David Wishart - No Cause for Concern

‘Fine. Well, I’ll talk to Astrapton before I leave. Just to check. Now. How about friends? People he might’ve confided in?’

‘If he didn’t tell me where he was going, Corvinus, then he’d be hardly likely to -’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I know. But just in case. You got a name you can give me? Of a best friend?’

‘You could try Quintus Bellarius. They go out drinking together.’

‘And where would I find him?’

‘I don’t know. He’s Titus’s friend, not mine, and we’ve only met once or twice.’

‘But -’

‘Father doesn’t like me getting too involved with Titus outside the house, especially since my engagement to Liber, so I don’t really know any of his friends except by name. And of course we haven’t wanted to do anything that would make Father suspicious. Ask at the Three Elms, they go there quite often. You’d’ve passed it on the way here, down Pincian Road between the Gardens of Pompey and Lucullus. They might be able to help.’

Yeah, and I remembered the place from the last time, four years back: pricey and pretentious as hell, but they’d had some of the best Velletrian I’d ever tasted. ‘Right. I’ll try that.’

‘Do you think you’ll find him? Titus, I mean.’

I gave her the honest answer. ‘Maybe. I’ll do my best, anyway. If we’re lucky he may even be shacked up with that friend of his.’ I stood up. ‘I won’t disturb your mother, particularly since it’s bad news. You want to show me where this Astrapton hangs out?’

She got up too. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll get a slave to take you.’ She raised her voice. ‘Celer!’

One of the bought help materialised out of nowhere. Right; sign of an efficient household and top-rate bought help. You don’t see them until you need them, and then they’ve been there all the time.

‘Yes, miss,’ the slave said.

‘Take Valerius Corvinus to Astrapton’s office.’

‘Yes, miss. This way, sir.’

I went to talk to the accountant.

‘Office’ was dignifying things: it was hardly bigger than a cubby-hole furnished with desk, chair, visitor’s stool and wax-tablet-filled bookshelves. Astrapton was sitting on the second of the list. The guy was your typical sharp-as-they-come-and-going-places young Greek: thick, blue-black curly hair under his freedman’s cap scented with oil I could smell from two yards away, limpid blue-black eyes, blue-black designer stubble, a snazzy Greek-style tunic and a selection of rings on his fingers that must’ve cost half of his yearly income.

‘Good morning, sir,’ he said when I walked in. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Valerius Corvinus,’ I said. ‘Your boss’s wife asked me to trace her missing son.’

He blinked. ‘Oh, yes? Then I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t help you there.’

‘You were the last one to see them, I understand.’ I pulled up the stool and sat down in front of the desk. ‘Him and his slave. Going out of the gate. That correct?’

‘Ah…yes. Yes, it is.’

‘Did you talk to them at all?’

‘I didn’t talk to Titus at any time. Or rather, he didn’t talk to me.’

Yeah, well. Fair enough. Sempronia had already said that the guy didn’t mix with his father’s business underlings on principle. ‘Okay. Just the details, then. Were they on foot?’

‘Yes.’

‘Carrying anything?’

‘The slave had a couple of bags.’

‘And you weren’t suspicious?’

‘Why should I be? Where they were going, if they were going anywhere, and what they were carrying was none of my business. And even if I had asked Luscius wouldn’t’ve told me.’

‘Fine. And what time was this exactly?’

‘Just before dawn.’

‘Before dawn? That not a little early for you to be going out on business, pal? I assume it was business.’

‘Yes, it was. But no, it wasn’t unusual. The master wanted me to see someone urgently, and the person concerned wasn’t free later in the day. That happens quite often in my job. The hours aren’t what you’d call regular.’

Yeah, well: considering the nature of Eutacticus’s business concerns perhaps it wasn’t an avenue I wanted to explore. ‘So you saw which direction they took? Titus and the slave?’

He looked fazed for a moment. ‘Pardon?’

‘If you followed them out the gate, pal, then you must’ve seen which way they went. Left or right? Away from the city centre or towards it?’

He frowned. ‘Oh. Oh, yes. I see what you mean. But I can’t help you there either. I didn’t go out of the gate immediately. I realised I’d forgotten a document I needed, so I went back for it.’

‘Pity.’ Well, maybe the gate slave’d remember. I could ask him on my way out. ‘So. You’re absolutely sure about all this?’ For what it was worth. Jupiter!

‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

‘Anything else you can tell me?’

‘No.’

I shrugged and stood up. ‘Fine. Thanks for your time.’

‘You’re very welcome,’ he said, and went back to juggling the books.

I left. But I left puzzled. Eutacticus’s tame books-juggler had been forthcoming enough, sure, if you could call giving me practically zilch in the way of information being forthcoming. All the same, there’d been something slightly wrong about that interview: there was the hesitation over the answers for a start, and I’d definitely seen a flash of relief on his face when he’d picked up the pen at the end of it. Astrapton had more beans to spill, I’d’ve bet a dozen of Eutacticus’s Falernian on that. Trouble was, I was damned if I knew what they could be, and why he hadn’t spilled them.

On my way out, I stopped by the muscle-bound gorilla who doubled as gate-keeper.

He gave me a suspicious look. ‘Yeah?’

‘No problem, pal,’ I said. ‘I was just hoping that you could cast your mind back to seven days ago. Just before dawn, the morning young Master Titus disappeared.’

‘Yeah?’

‘You were on the gate then?’

‘Yeah.’

Well, I supposed that the fact that he could talk at all was a minor miracle in itself. And a vocabulary of one syllable is better than nothing.

‘You saw them go out, right?’

‘Could’ve done.’

Hey! A variation! ‘Fine. Which direction did they -?’

‘I said I could’ve done.’

Gods! ‘Which is it, pal? Did you see them go or didn’t you?’

‘Could be either.’

Bugger; we were definitely verging on the philosophical here. ‘You care to choose one, maybe?’

He stood up slowly. He topped me by a head and more than the corresponding width between the shoulders.

‘Look, sir,’ he said. ‘Strangers coming in I notice, right? That is my job, because if they don’t have no legit business they don’t go no further. You ask me about strangers coming in, I’ll tell you. I got a good memory for strangers coming in. Family going out, that’s a different thing. The master, the mistress, the kids, they’re in and out of here like a high priest in a brothel every fucking hour of every fucking day in the calendar. And when you’re a gate slave one fucking day is the same as another. So the answer where your seven days ago is concerned is I could’ve done. You get me?’

I sighed. ‘Yeah, I get you, pal. Could’ve done it is.’

‘Fine.’ He sat down again. ‘So long as we’re clear about it. Have a nice day, sir.’

Well, that was that. It would’ve been nice to have got a bit of corroboration, though, because when push came to shove I didn’t trust Astrapton more than half. Then again, maybe I was imagining things and the guy just had the ordinary guilty conscience natural to all creative accountants.

Okay. Next stop the Three Elms to see if I could trace Titus’s pal Quintus Bellarius. It was getting on for half way through the day in any case, and I reckoned I was due a half jug of wine. Or maybe just a cup, unless they’d lowered their prices since last time.