David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

‘I am indeed. Fifteen years, come the Winter Festival.’

Well, that made sense from what Balbinus had told me about the guy’s concern for his customers’ welfare. My heart bled. ‘Actually, that’s why I dropped in,’ I said. ‘The third murder. I understand the victim – Tarbeisus, wasn’t that the name? – had a room here.’

That got me a cautious look. ‘He did. What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘No sweat. It’s just that I’m interested in his movements up to the time he disappeared. Who he mixed with, whether he was involved in any particular business deals, that sort of thing. Any help I can get, really.’

‘Oh.’ The cautious look vanished. ‘Not much I can do for you there, sir. As you can see, we’re packed out and short-staffed, and it’s always like this. I haven’t got the time to think what I’m doing myself, if you catch my meaning, let alone watch the customers.’

‘Right. Right. Maybe someone else, then? One of his merchant cronies?’

‘You could try Frontus over there in the corner. The man with the eye-patch.’ He nodded in the direction of a middle-aged guy sitting at one of the tables chatting to another two punters with their backs to me. ‘He’s one of the big local retailers, in most days to check on who’s new in town and what they’re selling. He’d be your best bet. Yes, sir.’ He turned to another customer who’d come up beside me. ‘Same again, was it?’

I slipped the remaining coins into my pouch, picked up my cup and took it over to the one-eyed man’s table. He looked up.

‘Excuse me for butting in,’ I said. ‘You have a moment or two to spare?’

‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘More, if you like. Pull up a stool, if you can find one.’

‘That’s OK.’ One of the other two punters stood up. ‘The gentleman can have mine; I was just leaving anyway. We’ve a firm deal on that consignment of Samian?’

‘We do. Delivery by the first of next month, yes? I’ll see you later, Tertius.’ The man left. ‘Now, sir, what can I do for you?’

I sat. ‘The name’s Marcus Corvinus,’ I said. ‘I’m looking into-’

‘Yes, I know. Poor Drutus. Anda, too. They’ll be sadly missed, both of them. They were well-liked, and they’d both been coming here for years. Mind you, I’m afraid if that’s what you wanted to talk to me about I know no more than anyone else.’

‘Actually, it was about the other guy. The one whose body was found yesterday morning down in the commercial quarter. Trebonius Tarbeisus.’

‘Ah. In that case, I can tell you even less. This was his first time in Augusta, and I barely knew him.’

‘You talked to him, though? Before he disappeared?’

‘Certainly I did. Made a point of it, in fact, as I do with every new face. But then a lot of other people did as well, Ruber here for one. That’s so, Ruber, is it not?’

‘Aye, that’s so.’ The other man – a few years younger, built like a wrestler but running to fat – took a pull at his beer mug. ‘He was good company, was Tarbeisus. His samples were good, too, what I saw of them, better than what I sell at present, and that shifts pretty smartly to begin with. We could’ve done a lot of business, him and me. Pity he got stiffed.’

Right. Well, there spoke the voice of healthy commercial enterprise. It was no wonder that trade was the life-blood of the empire and merchants its bone and sinew. ‘He wasn’t from anywhere near here, as I understand?’ I said.

‘No. Somewhere down south, I think,’ Frontus said. ‘I can’t recall exactly.’

‘So what do you know about him?’

‘Precious little, like I say.’ Frontus was drinking wine. He took another mouthful from the cup. ‘He arrived eight or nine days back, from Durocortorum, and he was on his way up north to Moguntiacum, or so he said. Travelling light, sussing out the local markets on the way for future use, the usual kind of thing, so he spent a lot of time in here chatting to various people, showing his samples, getting orders or promises of them. That’s about it, really.’

‘He’d no connections with Britain, at all, had he?’

That got me a sharp, monocular look. ‘Not that he mentioned in my hearing, no. What made you think he might have?’

‘No reason. Just a thought.’

Frontus chuckled. ‘Then it wasn’t a very intelligent one, if you don’t mind me saying so. You’re in the wrong part of Gaul for that, Corvinus. Oh, over in the west of the province near the Lower German border, certainly, but the traders you’ll meet around these parts, the ones who travel, anyway, mostly work the north-south route between Massilia and the Upper Rhine. Durocortorum’s about as far west as they go. Certainly things might change if the British market opens up in future, but that’s a long way off.’

‘He have much to do with any of the merchants here in particular? I mean, anyone who stands out?’

‘No. None more than any other. Like I told you, he did the rounds, professionally speaking, as any trader new to an area would. And he was a sociable sort in himself, fond of a drink and willing to put his hand in his money-pouch when his turn came to do the buying.’

‘So you can’t think of anything, well, out of the ordinary about the guy? Nothing he said or did that you noticed that was in any way unusual?’

‘Not a thing. He was just your ordinary out-of-town merchant, drumming up custom and doing a little useful networking before he moved on.’

Bugger. Well, I hadn’t really expected anything else, had I? Still, there had to be some reason why the guy had been killed. Drutus and Anda, fair enough, given that now I knew they’d been more than they seemed. But Tarbeisus? If he was as squeaky-clean and innocent as he was beginning to sound, then why the hell should anyone want to take him out?

Anda …

The tavern-keeper – his landlord – had said that what seemed to have excited the guy, and led eventually to his and Drutus’s deaths, was that someone was lying because ‘he’d never been there’. Assuming – and it was a fair assumption, given that Anda was well-travelled – that ‘there’ referred to a town or city …

‘One more question, pal,’ I said. ‘Anda. Drutus’s servant. Did he come in here much, by any chance?’

‘Anda?’ Frontus looked puzzled. ‘Of course he did, with or without Drutus. I told you, they’d both been coming here for years. He dropped in most days when the two of them were through from Durocortorum.’

‘So he’d’ve been in the bar when Tarbeisus was doing his networking?’

‘Possibly. That depends. It’s perfectly likely, though.’

‘Can you give me a for instance?’

The guy was frowning. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Any occasion when they were both in here at the same time. That you noticed.’

‘The afternoon of the day he was killed, as a matter of fact. Anda, I mean.’

And Tarbeisus himself had been murdered – probably – two days later.

Bullseye!

‘OK,’ I said. ‘This is important, so I want you to think carefully and take it slow. They were both here, right? Anda and Tarbeisus.’

‘Yes.’

‘Together?’

‘No. Tarbeisus was standing by the counter, Anda was sitting with friends at one of the tables.’

‘Which one would that be?’ He pointed, and I followed his finger. Uh-huh; practically slap-bang next to the bar counter itself. ‘And who was Tarbeisus with? You remember?’

‘I’m afraid not. The place was full to bursting. There were half a dozen people standing there who couldn’t get seats, and he was just one of the group. Besides, I wasn’t paying any attention; I’d business of my own to discuss with a customer. Ruber, you were there, weren’t you? Do you remember?’