David Wishart: Trade Secrets

Lippillus frowned. ‘Damn. Well, it can’t be helped. I’ll do what I can, of course – am doing what I can, with what resources I can spare – but I can’t promise much. You want the details anyway? Just in case?’

‘Sure. So what’ve you got?’

‘Not a lot so far, and it all comes from the slave he brought with him. Like I said, the guy’s name was Marcus Correllius, and he was an Ostian businessman.’

‘What kind of businessman?’

‘Mercurius – that’s the slave – didn’t say, but he gave me a contact address. Private house, on the Hinge to the south of Ostia’s Market Square. That’s a pretty expensive area, seemingly, so chummie wasn’t short of a silver piece or two.’

‘The slave wasn’t in the Pollio garden at the time of the murder, presumably?’

‘No. Correllius had sent him away, told him to come back in a couple of hours. Which he did, just after your Marilla and her husband found the body.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Curious; you’d’ve thought his master would’ve wanted the bought help to be on call. ‘So what was he doing at the Pollio in the first place? Correllius, I mean?’

‘A business meeting. Mercurius didn’t know the details, just that the meeting was with a guy named Marcus Pullius.’

‘In Rome ? And at the Pollio? Why the hell not in Ostia?’

Lippillus shrugged. ‘No idea, and like I say the slave didn’t know either. But it’s not all that strange. Most Ostian businessmen have dealings with people and companies based in the city, and who did the travelling would depend on the circumstances. As far as the Pollio goes, it’s a common enough meeting place. Well-known, central, easy to find if you’re from out of town like Correllius was.’

Yeah, true: even so, if this Pullius were local himself – which, presumably, he was, or why Rome at all? – and a businessman in his own right, then surely he’d have an office where they could’ve met and discussed things in privacy and comfort. And if Correllius was as big a wheel as his private circumstances suggested then he was no hick from the sticks; he’d know his way round Rome well enough. So why choose a park bench to meet, for the gods’ sakes?

‘Who’s this Marcus Pullius, then?’ I said. ‘He come forward?’

‘No, we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him. And Mercurius didn’t know anything about him, either. He’d never seen the guy before, never even heard the name.’

Odder and odder, and the whole thing was beginning to stink to high heaven. Even if, contrary to all indications, Pullius wasn’t the actual perp and had just decided for reasons of his own not to get involved, if he’d been important enough for Correllius to have travelled all the way from Ostia to see then I’d’ve expected his slave to know something about him. Unless he did and wasn’t telling, of course, and that made things more interesting still.

‘This Mercurius doesn’t seem to know very much,’ I said.

‘Yeah. I noticed that at the time. Of course I did. He seemed to be straight enough in himself, mind. And he was certainly upset.’

‘You trying to trace Pullius?’

Lippillus grinned. ‘Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs, Corvinus! Of course I am, as far as I’m able. But no luck so far.’

Hell; leave it. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Were there any witnesses? To the actual stabbing, I mean?’ Unlikely, sure: I knew those benches outside the Pollio, and it would’ve been easy enough for someone to step up behind an ostensibly sleeping man, do the business, and be off and away unseen in a matter of seconds. Particularly if he’d all the time in the world to wait his chance.

‘That’s something else we’re working on. Nothing so far, certainly no one who was currently using the library, because I asked. Naturally, I did. And remember, it could’ve happened any time up to an hour before the body was found, so any witness would probably have been long gone. That’s assuming they knew they were a witness in the crime sense, which under the circumstances they probably wouldn’t.’

Bugger; I was getting hooked, despite myself. Even so, like Lippillus, I’d got other, more important, fish to fry at present; like it or not, I’d just have to leave things as they were and pass on.

‘OK, pal,’ I said. ‘You’ll keep me informed like you said, just in case?’

‘Sure. No problem. So what’s this Tullius business? Trigemina Gate Street, you said?’

‘Yeah.’ I gave him the details. ‘I’m on my way over there now.’

‘That’s Gaius Memmius’s patch. He’s Watch Commander for the Aventine. A good lad, Memmius, and a good officer. He’ll help you if he can. Just mention my name.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll do that.’ I would, too: as with everything in Rome, having a friend in common made things a lot easier, and not all Watch Commanders appreciated a civilian outsider poking his nose into Watch affairs. ‘You got time for a cup of wine somewhere? It’ll have to be a quick one, because I’m pushed this morning.’

He laughed. ‘You kidding? I didn’t even have breakfast this morning, or any morning this month. I told you: I’m up to my eyeballs.’

‘Another time, then. Sorry I can’t help more.’

‘That’s OK. Offer’s open, and like I said I’ll send you word of any developments. Look after yourself, Marcus, and give my regards to the family.’

I left.

So; next stop the Thirteenth District Watch station on the Aventine, near the Temple of the Moon.

I was lucky; not only did Watch Commander Memmius know Lippillus well, but he’d mentioned my name to him a couple of times in the past, which made things a lot easier: like I say, some commanders, particularly the ones who owe their jobs to the fact that they’re drinking cronies of the City Prefect, can be pretty snooty.

I gave him the spiel, for what it was worth so far.

‘That’s right.’ He rested his elbows on the desk in front of him. ‘Tullius was found just after sunset four days ago at the Shrine of Melobosis in an alleyway off Trigemina Gate Street. Single stab to the heart. The bugger wouldn’t’ve known what hit him.’

‘Was the body hidden at all?’

‘No. That was odd, because it could’ve been, easily, because the shrine’s pretty overgrown. Whoever Melobosis was, she didn’t have all that many worshippers.’

‘One of the Daughters of Ocean. Or so my clever-clogs wife tells me.’

‘Is that right, now?’ He grinned. ‘You learn something new every day. Anyway, the guy was lying presumably where he fell, out in the open. The kid who found him had just taken his girlfriend inside for some privacy, and they tripped over the corpse in the darkness. A bit of a put-off, that, under the circumstances. Inconvenient, too. The youngsters had been using the shrine for their evening bouts of privacy for quite a while, and now the girl won’t go near the place.’

‘No one saw anything, I suppose? Saw the victim or the perp going in, I mean?’

‘No. Not that I’ve been able to find out. The alley’s a dead end, and most of the buildings in the area are offices that are only used during daylight hours. Also, of course, the fifteenth being Mercury’s festival, they’d’ve been closed all day anyway.’

So barring a visit by a casual worshipper to the shrine itself – which seemed unlikely, from what Memmius was saying – the body could’ve lain undiscovered there since the previous night. Bugger!

‘You happen to know anything about two of the local residents? Or almost local. A Lucilius Festus and a Titus Vecilius.’

Memmius frowned. ‘Why do you ask? You have a reason to think one of them did it?’

‘It’s a possibility. Just a possibility.’ I had to go careful here: Memmius was a nice guy, and what with the Lippillus connection he was amenable enough, but he was still official, and I’d no proof. ‘They had connections with the dead man, and they both have businesses on Trigemina Gate Street itself, that’s all. I’m just checking angles.’