David Wishart - Trade Secrets

‘Corvinus. Valerius Corvinus. We met yesterday.’

‘That should be perfectly in order, sir. Was it business, or a private visit?’

‘A bit of both. I’m staying at Caesia Fulvina’s place.’ I couldn’t for the moment remember the husband’s name. ‘Just up the road. I thought I’d call in on the off-chance since I was passing.’

‘Oh, yes. I know the villa well, sir. And the Lady Caesia.’ He opened the gate. ‘Now, as I say, if you’d like to wait in the garden I’ll see if the master is receiving. The bench over by the hedge there should be perfectly comfortable.’

He hobbled off up the drive, and I settled down on the bench and looked around me. Nice garden, and like the rest of the place, from what I could see of it now that I was inside the grounds, impeccably kept. The bits and bobs were impressive too – some nice statues, obviously copies of Greek originals, and not too many to clutter the place up. Whatever his questionable business interests, Fundanius had good taste, and if he had money then he knew how to spend it. I’d reckon that if he and Mamilia did have a thing going she’d be far more his type than her late husband’s. And she’d said that she’d been trying to persuade Correllius into buying a seaside property, hadn’t she? Maybe she’d get her wish. Second-hand, as it were.

Clearly kindred spirits, in essence anyway, whatever contrary circumstances there might be. Some sort of alliance between Mamilia and Fundanius, unlikely as it seemed, was beginning to look like a viable proposition.

The slave came back.

‘The master will see you, sir,’ he said. ‘He’s on the breakfast terrace. If you’d like to follow me?’

We went round the corner of the villa’s nearside wing. That part of the garden – the east side – had a terrace sheltered by a trellised vine. Fundanius was sitting at a table with the remains of an al fresco breakfast on it.

He stood up.

‘Corvinus,’ he said. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure. Have a seat. You’ve breakfasted?’

‘Yeah. Yes, thanks.’ I sat down on one of the Gallic wickerwork chairs. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you so early, but like I told your gate-slave I’m staying just up the road and I thought I’d just drop in in passing on my way to town.’

‘Oh, my dear chap! Don’t give it another thought! You’re very welcome at any time, as is any friend of Aelius Tubero’s.’ Yeah, that was the Sewers and Aqueducts husband’s name. ‘I don’t see much of him, but he’s an excellent neighbour when he and his wife do come through to Ostia. Very good company, both of them. You must give him my regards when next you see him.’ He sat down again. ‘Now. Partly business, my slave said. What would that be?’ Straight to the point, and for all the bonhomie, there was more than a smidgeon of reserve and suspicion in the guy’s voice; I’d have my work cut out here. ‘Nothing to do with Marcus Correllius’s death, I hope, because there I’m afraid I can’t be of any help to you at all.’

‘No.’ I crossed my legs and went into my prepared spiel. ‘Actually, we were thinking – my wife and I, that is – about renting or buying one of the villas along the coast. Nothing too grand, just somewhere to get away to now and again. I was wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, as a local man – businessman – if you might be able to point us in the right direction.’

‘Ah.’ He smiled, and I could almost feel him relax. ‘It is very pleasant here after Rome, isn’t it? Especially in the summer months. Not too pricey, either, compared with some places. I hear that the Alban Hills are getting really expensive, and as for Baiae and the Bay of Naples prices are simply ridiculous. And you’ve come to the right man. I don’t specialize in that area myself, but I do keep my ear to the ground. Coincidentally, there is a very nice little property just come onto the rental market not too far away. A bit further along the coast from where you’re staying, so not quite as handy for town, but that’s reflected in the price. The Rusticellius place. I know the person who’s handling it, and I can give you the details, if you like.’

‘That’d be marvellous,’ I said. ‘It’s just an idea so far, but we thought that while we’re in the area we’d check out the possibilities.’

‘Very wise. Very wise. I’ll see you get them before you leave.’ He settled back in his chair. ‘So. You’re enjoying your time in Ostia?’

‘Very much so. Like you say, it’s a lot more pleasant here than in Rome this time of year.’

‘A shame that the circumstances of your visit aren’t … well, a little more conducive to enjoyment. Or so I’d assume from our brief meeting yesterday at poor Correllius’s house.’

Uh-huh; well, he’d brought the subject up himself. Almost certainly deliberately: now that I’d shown, as far as he was concerned, my bona fides I was about to be squeezed dry. Which was absolutely fine with me, because it gave me the latitude to do a little gentle return squeezing on my own account.

‘My wife was just saying the same,’ I said.

‘He was stabbed, I understand. After he had died a natural death, of course.’

I’d’ve very much liked to ask the guy how exactly he’d come by that little nugget of information, because the answer would’ve been interesting, but I was playing careful here. Careful, garrulous, and dumb. Besides, I could make an educated guess.

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘My adopted daughter found the body. And my son-in-law examined it. He’s the local doctor at Castrimoenium, up in the Alban Hills, and they were through on a visit. Not the sort of thing you’d expect to happen when you’re on holiday, is it?’

‘No, indeed. Strange business. Strange.’ Fundanius was frowning. ‘And you’re investigating? Off your own bat, I mean, not at the request of the authorities or of Correllius’s family?’ I said nothing. ‘Why would that be, now?’

I shrugged. ‘Simple curiosity. Like I said, my daughter and son-in-law were there at the time.’

His interest sharpened. ‘At the actual time of the stabbing? They witnessed it?’

‘No. But they didn’t miss it by much. At least, that’s how it appears.’

‘Have you any idea who the perpetrator was?’

‘The chances are that it was a man by the name of Pullius.’ Not a flicker, and I was watching for it. ‘Certainly he’d arranged to meet Correllius in front of the Pollio Library. And he seems to have disappeared without a trace. We have a description, of course, but-’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes. A lady’s maid saw the whole thing, although she didn’t realize at the time there was something funny going on.’

‘What were the man’s reasons? Do you know?’ Casual; too casual. I could hear the note of underlying interest in his voice.

‘Not so far,’ I said. Then, casually in my turn: ‘Might you have any idea yourself? I mean, you knew Correllius, as a business associate at least. You may even have come across this Pullius, if the business angle was legitimate.’

He was shaking his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I told you, I can’t be of any assistance whatsoever in that area, unfortunately. And although Marcus Correllius and I did have some dealings together I’d call us friendly rivals rather than associates as such; I certainly wouldn’t have any inside information as to his business affairs. As for your Pullius, I’ve never heard of the man. If he is involved in business of any kind, then I can assure you he transacts none of it here in Ostia.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘My theory is that he’s either from well out of town or more probably the name is false and the business meeting was just an excuse to set Correllius up. Who’d want to do a thing like that, do you imagine? Anyone spring to mind?’