David Wishart: Trade Secrets

Jupiter! I took my wine through to the atrium. No sign of Clarus and Marilla yet – they were obviously making a day of it – but Perilla was lying on the couch with her usual book. I kissed her, went over to the couch opposite, and lay down.

‘What’s this about a funeral?’ I said.

‘Bathyllus told you, then?’ She laid the book aside. ‘Oh, yes. Properly conducted and complete with flute player. I watched it from upstairs. It was quite impressive, really, particularly the eulogy.’

Gods, this was surreal! ‘Couldn’t they just have dug a hole in the garden for the brute and planted a rose tree on top? I mean-’

‘I suspect it was done for our benefit, dear, to make us feel guilty. And of course because the body cremated was a cat’s, the usual rules about funerals having to be held outside the city limits don’t apply. What on earth prompted you to pick him up in the first place? It was simply asking for trouble.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be nailed by the male equivalent of an avenging Fury two seconds later, did I?’ I took a morose swallow of the wine.

‘How did he die, do you know?’

‘No idea. Probably ran under a passing cart when he was out last night killing mice or screwing the local queens. You make contact at all? With next door, that is?’

‘I tried. Their major-domo slammed the door in my face before I could get a word out.’

Ah. Well, I hadn’t really expected anything else. We’d just have to wait this one out and hope that hell froze over soon.

‘So. How was your day?’ she said. ‘Did you talk to Annia?’

‘Sure.’ I gave her the basic rundown. ‘The case looks open and shut, easy-peasy. The only real question is which of the outraged husbands did it.’

‘You believe that?’

‘There’re a couple of curious points. But on the whole it’s the most likely explanation, yeah.’

‘What sort of curious points?’

‘The question of why the guy went anywhere near Trigemina Gate Street only a day after both of his lady friends’ better halves had threatened to rip his head off, for a start, particularly on a public holiday when there was no need, business-wise. That was just asking for trouble. Me, I’d’ve kept well clear. Probably permanently.’

‘Mm.’ She was twisting a lock of hair.

‘Then there’s the Ostian incident. That doesn’t make sense. The guy told his wife, but not his partner. Having a load of amphoras dropped on you isn’t something that’d slip your mind. And it’s worth at least a passing mention.’

‘You’re sure the thing happened at all?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘It’s a theoretical possibility. Your only source for the story is Annia herself. She could have made it up.’

‘Why the hell should she want to do that?’

‘I don’t know. I said: it’s just a possibility. Or, of course, Tullius’s partner might have been lying when he said he knew nothing about it.’

‘That’s just as crazy. Again, why? Particularly since he gave me all the information I’d need to check it.’ I took another gulp of the wine. ‘In fact, everyone I’ve talked to so far – including the brother – has been pretty much up-front about things. They’re happy enough that I’m trying to trace the killer and willing enough to cooperate, but equally none of them’re making any secret of the fact that they think a world without Tullius is a far better place. At least, that’s the impression I’ve been getting so far.’

‘Never mind, dear. No doubt it’ll all work out in the end. So what about tomorrow?’

‘I thought I’d call in at the local Watch station, see what they can tell me. I don’t know the guy there, but he’s bound to know Lippillus, so that should help.’ Decimus Lippillus was an old friend of mine, head of the Public Pond Watch. ‘Then I’ll have a word with the two husbands, find out what their stories are. Talk to the wives as well, if they’re around. There’s another guy, too, a Titus Vibius, lives in more or less the same area, who might bear a substantial grudge. I’ll call in on him while I’m at it.’

‘What about the Ostia side of things?’

‘That can wait. Oh, sure, I’ll go down there in another day or so, check it out, probably drop by at Agron’s while I’m in the neighbourhood and split a jug of wine.’ Agron was another old friend, an Illyrian with a cart-building business.

‘One thing about this case, lady: we’re not short on leads. It makes a nice change.’ There was the sound of voices from the direction of the lobby. ‘Ah. That’s the kids back.’

It was; a moment or two later, Clarus and Marilla came in with the nurse Mysta holding the well-wrapped-up Sprog. Perilla smiled at them.

‘Just in time for dinner,’ she said. ‘Did you have a nice day?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Marilla was beaming.

There was something very wrong here; or not wrong , exactly, just distinctly odd. Clarus was looking definitely shifty, while Marilla looked like the cat who’s finally nailed the canary.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘So tell us about it. You know you want to.’

‘Take Marcus upstairs,’ Marilla said to Mysta. ‘I’ll be up in a minute.’ Mysta left, and she turned back to me. ‘We’ve got a murder for you.’

I stared. ‘You have a what ?’

‘Or not exactly a murder. Although it comes to the same thing, really. At the Pollio.’ She settled down on the third couch. Clarus cleared his throat and sat down next to her.

‘You’re kidding!’ I said. I glanced at Perilla. She was staring too.

‘No, it’s true enough,’ Clarus said.

‘I thought you’d be pleased.’ Marilla was still beaming.

‘Now look here, Princess-’ I began.

‘The man was stabbed. Only he was dead already. And when I told the Watch officer who we were he said he knew you, so-’

Gods! ‘Look, Marilla, let’s just have this in order, OK?’ I said. Perilla had her mouth open to say something, but I held up a hand and she closed it. ‘You’re saying someone was killed – murdered – at the Pollio Library, right? While you were there. And that you were involved.’ Jupiter, I didn’t believe this! She’d only been in Rome five minutes. And the Pollio, for fuck’s sake! No one gets themselves murdered at the Pollio! ‘Take it slowly, a bit at a time.’

‘All right.’ She glanced at Clarus. ‘I told you. I was sitting on a bench in the Pollio gardens with Mysta and Marcus, waiting for Clarus to finish; you know that bit at the side, near the Danaid Porch, with the fountain and the benches?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I know it.’

‘Anyway, there was this man on another bench a few yards away, who was there when I arrived. I thought he was asleep, only it turned out that he wasn’t. Clarus arrived, and we were just getting ready to go when he sort of toppled over. Clarus went to check that he was all right, of course, and he was dead. He’d been stabbed in the back. Only-’

‘Only he was dead already,’ Clarus said.

‘How do you know that, pal?’ I said.

‘You want the clinical details, Corvinus?’

‘Ah … no.’ Gods! ‘No, I’ll take your word for it.’

‘There was hardly any blood. From the looks of things, he’d had an apoplexy. He’d been dead for at least an hour.’

‘So why-’ I began.

‘Marcus, dear …’ Perilla murmured.

‘Anyway,’ Marilla said, ‘Clarus went inside and told them, and they sent for the Watch. We had to stay, of course, because there’d be sure to be questions-’

‘Naturally you did,’ I said. Chances were, under the circumstances, you couldn’t’ve pulled the little lady away with grappling hooks and a team of oxen. Bugger!