David Wishart - Trade Secrets

‘I don’t know, dear. I only said it was a possibility, which it is. Who else did you talk to?’

‘Titus Vibius. The supplier Festus replaced.’

‘Anything there?’

I frowned. ‘Maybe. He hated Tullius, that was for sure, and in the way of business that made sense, because the bastard nearly bankrupted him.’ I told her about the cancelled contract. ‘Even so, and even if that were a good enough reason in itself for murder, which I doubt, the timing’d be all wrong. After all, it was past history, over a year ago, and the guy’s business is more or less back on an even keel these days.’

‘Does he have a wife?’

I shot her a glance. ‘No. He’s a widower. He has a daughter, sure, a real looker. I wondered about her at the time, but I doubt if she’s a factor.’

‘Why so?’

‘Because it wouldn’t fit the pattern. She’s barely more than a kid, and from what we know of Tullius’s tomcatting activities he went for older, married women. Besides, like I said, there’s the question of timing.’

‘It’s another possibility, though, isn’t it?’ She was still twisting the lock of hair. ‘Myself, I’d like to know how long Vibius’s wife has been dead. And how she died.’

I stared at her; gods, the lady had a more suspicious mind than I did. Fortunately. ‘Uh … good point,’ I said. ‘Well done. OK, filed for reference.’

‘So what are your plans now?’

‘I’ll try to have a word with the two wives, see what they have to say. Vecilius’s Hermia’ll be tricky, sure, because the house is bang next door to the workshop and I can’t see chummie being too cooperative, or too friendly if he knows I’m calling. Marcia’s easier: she’s gone off to her mother’s near the Capenan Gate, or she probably has. And there’s the Ostia side of things to check out as well. Lots to be going on with.’ I took a swallow of the wine. ‘So. How are things on the domestic front? Any developments in the Petillius saga?’

‘Absolutely none. I passed Tyndaris in the street this morning and got a frozen glare. Oh, and according to Bathyllus the household had a visit afterwards from a monumental sculptor. I suspect the next stage will be a small tomb in the garden.’

Fuck. The gods save me from OTT cat-lovers. Well, if the silly beggars wanted to throw their money around that was their concern. We’d just have to keep our heads below the parapet and hope things calmed down.

‘Well, if we’re lucky the whole thing will just-’ I stopped; I’d heard the front door and the sound of footsteps crossing the lobby.

The kids were back. I took a deep breath and a hefty gulp of wine; chances were I was going to need it.

‘Hi.’ Marilla came in, with Clarus in tow. ‘What time’s dinner? We’re starving.’

‘Another hour, I’m afraid, dear,’ Perilla said.

‘Marcus been good?’ She grinned at me as she lay down on the third couch. ‘The small one, I mean.’

‘Good as gold. He’s upstairs with Mysta, being changed. I think he’s cutting his first tooth.’

‘Yes, he is dribbling a lot.’

‘So where did you go?’

‘The Saepta.’ Clarus settled down beside Marilla. ‘Shopping.’

I winced; no wonder the guy was looking frayed round the edges. With two-and-a-half years of marriage under his belt, I’d’ve thought he would have developed shopping-avoidance strategies by now – after all, they’re among the most essential survival skills for husbands – but evidently not. Still, living down in the Alban Hills he wouldn’t’ve had the practice.

‘Marilla, you should have told me!’ Perilla said. ‘I’d’ve come with you.’

‘It was only an afterthought.’ Marilla looked round: Bathyllus had come up on her blind side, touting for orders. ‘Oh. Some fruit juice, please, Bathyllus. And if dinner’s going to be another hour, could you bring me a cheese roll? Or make it two. With a slice of ham and some pickles.’

‘Certainly, madam.’ He looked at Clarus. ‘Sir?’

‘Wine, Bathyllus. Just wine.’

I grinned. He was no great wine drinker, our Clarus; the shopping trip had obviously been Fraught.

‘I’ll have a top-up, too, little guy,’ I said, draining my cup and handing it to him. ‘Perilla?’

‘No, not for me.’

Bathyllus went out.

‘We’d actually intended to go up to Sallust Gardens, which we did,’ Marilla said. ‘But coming back we got a bit side-tracked. Still, it was only a sort of preliminary reconnaissance. I didn’t buy much, and we can easily go again tomorrow.’

I didn’t even look at Clarus.

‘That’d be marvellous, dear,’ Perilla said. ‘We’ll make a whole day of it. There are two new shops off Augustus Square you won’t know about that are well worth a look.’

Marilla turned back to me.

‘So how did it go, Corvinus?’ she said.

‘Ah … how did what go?’

‘Your visit to what’s-his-name. Your Palatine Watch Commander friend.’ I hesitated. ‘You did go over and talk to him this morning, didn’t you?’

Hell; here we went. ‘Decimus Lippillus,’ I said. ‘Yeah, more or less. First thing, as it happens. A complete coincidence, that. He’s just been moved to Tuscan Street from Public Pond, and-’

‘Did he agree to let you look into things?’

‘In essence, but-’

‘That’s marvellous! So you’ll be taking the case.’

‘Um … no, not exactly.’

‘ What? ’

‘The fact is, Marilla, to tell you the truth, not to put too fine a point on it, I’m a bit busy with other things at present, so-’

‘What sort of …?’ She stopped. ‘You toad! You lying toad! You’re working on a case after all!’

‘Come on, Princess! Give me a break, OK?’ I glanced over at Perilla, but she was industriously picking a thread off her tunic. ‘I can explain.’

‘Are you or aren’t you?’

‘Uh … yeah, as it happens, I am, but-’

‘You told me at breakfast yesterday that you weren’t!’

‘No. To be fair, what I actually said was-’

‘All right. You fudged. Same difference. And you’d certainly told Clarus you weren’t in so many words the morning before.’

‘Hold on, Marilla! That was true enough at the time! Tullia sodding Gemella didn’t tell me her sodding brother had been killed until that afternoon.’

‘Marcus, dear, please ,’ Perilla murmured.

‘Yeah, well.’

‘I call it mean.’ Marilla was glaring at me. ‘Mean, despicable and toadlike.’

‘She’s right, Corvinus,’ Clarus said.

Shit; what had happened to male solidarity? And I would’ve expected Perilla to have put in her pennyworth by now; she was as guilty as I was. I’d be having words with the lady later. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bathyllus come in with a loaded tray, do a sharp about-turn, and disappear again. Traitors, the lot of them.

‘Very well,’ Marilla said. ‘One murder is as good as another, I suppose. You can tell us – Clarus and me – about it now, please, because I assume Perilla knows the full details already.’ I saw the lady wince, and despite myself I grinned: she’d just have to grit her teeth, and frankly it served her damn well right. ‘Tullia Gemella, you said.’

‘Marilla, dear, I don’t think-’ Perilla began mildly.

The Princess just gave her a Look. I grinned again.

‘OK, Bathyllus,’ I said loudly. ‘You can come in now. Serve away.’ He did, like he was walking on eggs.

So while Marilla tucked into her cheese rolls, with pauses for mouth-full questions, I told them.

At least Marilla was committed to the extended shopping trip next day, and the more opportunities I had to establish clear lines of demarcation – i.e. it was my job to hike around Rome solving murders, and hers to keep off my back – the better.