Food for the Fishes (Marcus Corvinus Book 10)

by David Wishart

  Not that I had to take it lying down, mind.

  ‘Fair enough, pal,’ I said. ‘Very laudable. Although I’m just a bit curious to know how you square that attitude with bushwhacking my stepfather.’

  He looked at me. Just...looked. I had the distinct feeling that making that little comment had not been a wise move. Finally, he said: ‘You want to talk to me or not?’

  ‘Uh...sure.’

  ‘Go ahead, then. I’m all ears. And remember what I said about the pussyfooting.’

  Shit! We had a real touchy bugger here, didn’t we? Unfortunately, he was a touchy bugger with a pair of attendant trolls downstairs who’d come when he whistled, so maybe I’d better make a few allowances. ‘You, ah, didn’t see eye to eye with Murena over his plans to build a hotel, I understand?’ I said.

  ‘Damn right I didn’t. Hotels were none of his business.’

  ‘Why not? It’s a free country.’

  He leaned forward and I got the full benefit of his ongoing breath problems. I sat back quickly. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Baiae’s a small place and you don’t get far in it by poaching on another man’s preserve. Me, my niche is accommodation, girls and gambling, full stop. I don’t touch restaurants, cookshops and wineshops - that’s Publius Callion’s patch - and I don’t own carriage or boat hire outlets either, because that’s Mamma Gylippe. The same goes for a dozen other types of enterprise that’re big here and getting bigger year by year. I could, sure, I’ve got the money to invest, but I don’t because that’s the way things work locally, I’ve got to live in this town like everybody else, and in business one hand washes the other. There’s unwritten rules and we all know them. Murena’s bag was fish farming. He was doing okay, and if he’d wanted to expand in that direction I’d’ve had no quarrel with him. As it was, when he bought the Juventius estate to build a hotel it was war to the knife. Now have I made myself clear?’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, more or less.’

  ‘Good.’ He sat back again. ‘Then we talk on that basis. If you expect me to shed any tears for Lucius Licinius Murena, boy, then you’ll wait until hell freezes.’

  ‘Not even as your patron?’

  That got me another long look that could’ve been pickled for a year in acid. Then he said: ‘I’ll only tell you this once, Corvinus, so I suggest you listen very, very carefully. Murena owned me when I was a kid, sure, I don’t deny it. But that bastard was never my patron. Not ever.’

  ‘Why not? It’s the usual arrangement, isn’t it?’

  ‘Maybe so, but it wasn’t in my case, boy. I made my own way, pulled myself up by my own fucking bootstraps, with no help from him. He didn’t offer it, I didn’t want it. I don’t owe him nothing, and never have. Clear?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Point taken. ‘So why did he free you in the first place? You mind telling me that?’

  ‘He didn’t. I bought myself off him, fair and square.’

  ‘You what?’

  His eyes challenged me. ‘Sure. For hard cash, paid upfront. All Murena did was agree to take the money.’

  I must’ve been goggling. Jupiter alive, this didn’t add up, no way! Slaves, even the bargain-basement type, which Philippus wouldn’t’ve been, don’t come cheap. And no slave, the age he must’ve been then, could’ve had anywhere near what it’d cost to buy himself out, not even if he was moonlighting behind the master’s back, which is the usual slave trick to build up a nest-egg.

  ‘Uh...how did you manage that, pal?’ I said.

  ‘That’s my business. But it’s the plain truth, I’m telling you to your face, and you just remember it. Where Murena and me was concerned the account was cleared long ago.’

  ‘Fine.’ It wasn’t, not by a long chalk. Still, I wasn’t going to argue the point. Not with this venomous dwarf ready to jump down my throat and rip my liver out at the first objection. ‘Ah...care to tell me how you got your original stake?’

  The glare hadn’t shifted. ‘Sure. Gladly. I found a fucking pixie’s hat and got my three wishes. And you might as well believe me, Corvinus, because that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Okay, okay!’ No change out of that one either, then, and the topic not so much closed as nailed shut, barred and padlocked and with a bloody great warning notice pinned on it. Well, on present showing I hadn’t really expected anything else. Touchy wasn’t the word. Time to back off. ‘So let’s change the subject,’ I said. ‘You know the family? Murena’s family? I mean currently, as it were?’

  I could feel him relax slightly, but he still looked about as friendly as a rhino with piles. ‘No. Except by reputation and report. Barring Aulus Nerva, of course.’

  The way he said it suggested he didn’t have much time for them, Nerva included. ‘You mind giving me a thumbnail sketch? Just for the record?’

  ‘Of Nerva? The bastard’s got some business sense, more than you’d think to look at him. He’s more of a nose for it than his father, anyway. He’d do better if he’d cut down on the gambling, but that’s his affair, and I’m not crying.’

  Yeah, Gellia had mentioned Nerva’s gambling debts. Apropos of which: ‘He comes in here pretty often, doesn’t he?’

  ‘He’s a regular customer of mine, sure.’

  ‘He play privately or against the house?’

  Philippus shifted in his chair. ‘A bit of both,’ he said. ‘Most of the punters do. But then I’d say that was none of your concern either.’

  ‘Was he here four nights ago? The night of the murder?’

  He frowned. ‘Think he did it, do you?’ I didn’t answer. ‘Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. Either him or that cold bugger of a brother of his. They’re both bastards and always were. But that I can’t tell you, not from personal knowledge because I wasn’t in that night myself.’ His eyes challenged me to make something of it, but I kept my mouth shut. ‘He claim he was?’

  ‘There, uh, seems to be a bit of disagreement on that score,’ I said.

  ‘It’s easy to check. Ask any of the girls on your way out. They’ll remember. They know all the regular customers.’

  ‘Yeah. Thanks. I’ll do that.’ I shifted ground again. ‘With Murena dead he’d take over on the business side of things, would he?’

  Philippus was suddenly tense again. ‘Him and Titus Chlorus, sure,’ he said. ‘Plus the partner, Tattius.’

  ‘Equal shares, three ways? I don’t mean money, I mean deciding policy.’

  He shrugged. ‘That’s their concern. They’d have to work it out among them.’

  The guy was obfuscating; that was plain as the nose on his face. Still, he hadn’t told me to piss off yet, so I pushed things. ‘I’ve met Tattius already. He’s not the policy-deciding type.’

  ‘Fine. Then it’d be just the two of them.’

  ‘How about Chlorus? I know he takes care of the finances - the formal accounts, at least - but how involved is he with the planning?’

  Philippus shrugged again. ‘Don’t ask me. Like I say, I keep to my own side of the fence, I don’t know nothing about other people’s arrangements.’

  ‘But you know Chlorus?’

  ‘I told you. By reputation. Just by reputation. I haven’t set eyes on him for years. He doesn’t gamble, but he’s a good lawyer and good with figures.’

  ‘I get the impression the two of them don’t exactly hit it off. As brothers, I mean. And I understand Nerva’s a bit too fond of Chlorus’s wife. That’d spill over onto the business side, wouldn’t it?’

  The acid look was back. ‘I don’t deal in smut, Corvinus,’ Philippus said slowly. ‘And like I say I’m not involved with the family, either. Not any more, not personally. You want to talk about the business side of things, where it affects me, that’s fine, but nothing else.’

  ‘Okay. So with Murena gone what happens to his hotel plans? You think his sons’ll go ahead with them?’

  Pause; long pause.

  ‘That’s up to them,’ he said at last. ‘They know my opinion on that score, at least Nerva does. And you know it you
rself now. If you want anything more you’ll have to ask them direct.’

  Another door slammed. Well, that was to be expected, although it raised a few interesting questions. Like just how far Philippus was prepared to go to discourage them if they did carry on. And how far he’d gone already. ‘Nerva’s pretty thick with Aquillius Florus, isn’t he?’ I said.

  The eyes narrowed. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But I got the impression that they were in business together on their own account as well as being gambling pals. That so?’

  ‘It’s possible.’ He was cautious. ‘What exactly makes you think that?’

  ‘Just something Florus said when we were talking downstairs.Something about a grain barge.’ I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I hadn’t caught the look that Nerva had given his less-than-up-to-speed sidekick when he’d dropped the information, but it was worth a passing question. ‘You know anything about that?’

  Philippus didn’t answer at once. He sat back, his left hand - I noticed the fingernails were broken and chewed - resting on the desk top. The fingers drummed briefly.

  ‘No,’ he said carefully. ‘No, I can’t say that I do, boy. I’m obliged to you. They mention any details?’

  ‘Uh-uh. Just that.’

  ‘Is that so, now?’ He sucked on a tooth. Then, suddenly, he got up. ‘Okay, Corvinus. I’ve given you all the time I can spare, and I’ve important business to see to. It was nice talking to you. Oh - and if you’re a gambling man yourself you’ll be very welcome any time you care to drop in. I owe you one.’

  ‘That go for my stepfather as well?’

  ‘Naturally. Always glad to see someone whose credit’s good. And Helvius Priscus seemed to take to the place.’ He must’ve noticed my expression, because he chuckled. ‘Don’t worry on that score, boy. We run an honest house here, and I’ve a reputation to keep up. My girls’ll cover any bet a customer cares to make if he has the money to back it, sure, but they play fair and they don’t use loaded dice. Or if they do they’re out on their backsides quicker than you can spit, and they know it. Now I’ll see you to the door.’

  When we got back downstairs Nerva and Florus had gone. Maybe I was imagining things, but I reckoned Philippus didn’t look too pleased.

  I asked the African girl privately whether Nerva had been in the evening of the murder, and she gave me a categorical no. Florus got an equally-categorical yes: he’d played a few games of dice with one of the other girls, but he hadn’t arrived until later, well after sunset. So that was one set of questions answered, anyway.

  Which left me with the rest.

  Time for a think, and a spot of lunch. There’re plenty of cookshops in the Market Square area. I chose one with tables outside that looked reasonably full, checked what was on offer from the board - seafood dumplings with green beans in a coriander sauce: this is Baiae, remember - , gave the order to the waiter and settled back with a half jug to be going on with.

  So. Not a bad morning’s work. The biggie latterly, of course, was the mystery about how Philippus had got his freedom and his start in business. Oh, sure, on the face of it that could have nothing directly to do with Murena’s death, but just the fact that he’d clammed up so spectacularly was more than curious.

  Added to which, the events that all seemed to have taken place around the same time - let’s say about thirty years back - were piling up. I laid them out. First, Murena’s move from Rome and his partnership with Tattius. Second, Tattius’s marriage to Penelope. Third, the death of Murena’s first wife. Fourth, Philippus’s manumission...

  Not the smidgeon of an explanation or a reason for any of them. Oh, I could theorise, but –

  ‘May I join you, Corvinus?’

  I refocused and looked up. We were doing well for members of the Murena family today. First Nerva, now Chlorus.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah, sure. Help yourself.’

  Things were moving.

  12

  I caught the waiter’s eye and made a tipping motion with my right hand as if I was holding a winecup. He nodded and disappeared inside.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.’ Chlorus pulled up the chair opposite: the cookshop was one of these chichi places heavy on the Gallic wickerwork. ‘I can’t stay long in any case; I’m on my way to an appointment with my banker in the Square.’ Matey as hell, just like his brother. No prizes, though, for guessing why Corvinus was suddenly flavour of the month, not where these bastards were concerned; I waited for the inevitable question, and it came. ‘How are things going? Any progress?’

  I gave him what I’d given Nerva. ‘I’m plugging along.’

  ‘Good. Good.’ There was a pause. Then when I didn’t amplify: ‘My apologies for the scene you witnessed a few days ago, by the way. Father’s death came as a great shock to us all. We were all rather...overwrought.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘So I noticed.’

  Silence again; maybe he’d caught my tone. I hoped so, because mutual family backstabbing was one thing, but fake tears I could do without. At least Penelope had been upfront.

  The waiter came back with my dumplings and a second cup.

  ‘You like some lunch?’ I said.

  ‘No. No, I don’t eat at all at mid-day, and as I said I have an appointment. A little wine would be welcome, though.’

  I poured. It was good stuff, better than I’d expected in a tourist trap like this: Campanian, sure, but not the mass-produced rotgut from the big estates that you get in Rome. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Cheers.’ He raised the cup. ‘Incidentally, I hear you had a talk with Diodotus.’

  ‘Oh? And where did you hear that?’

  He ignored the question. ‘Did you ask him about the fainting fits?’

  ‘Yeah. He said they weren’t as sudden - or as violent - as all that.’

  ‘Really? I’m surprised.’

  ‘That the fits weren’t serious? Or that Diodotus told me they weren’t?’

  He let that one go past him as well. All I got was a bland smile. ‘You...ah...formed an opinion of him? Diodotus, I mean?’

  ‘Yeah. He struck me as straight enough.’

  ‘Indeed.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well, you’re entitled to your view.’

  ‘Right.’ I picked up the spoon and started in on the dumplings. If the guy wanted any dirt spreading re the doctor, he’d have to do it himself.

  Which was just what he proceeded to do.

  ‘You know that he owns a half-share in the bath-house round the corner from here? On the edge of Market Square?’

  I put the spoon down. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘The co-owner is Lucius Philippus.’

  Shit. ‘Is that so, now?’ I said.

  ‘It isn’t generally known, but yes.’ He took a sip of his wine. ‘Interesting, isn’t it?’

  Interesting was right: my brain was buzzing. Philippus had mentioned accommodation as one of his areas of investment, sure, but a bath-house didn’t exactly fit into that category, or into any of the others. And I hadn’t known that he and the doctor had any connection at all. Of course, Oily Chlorus here could be shooting me a line, but things like that are easily checked and I doubted if he’d take the risk. I wondered what other little nuggets I was missing where Philippus was concerned. He hadn’t liked Murena, that was certain. And by his own admission he hadn’t been at the gambling hall the night of the murder.

  ‘Then there was the Drepanum incident,’ Chlorus said. ‘Something else you should know about him. That’s interesting as well.’

  ‘Uh...what Drepanum incident would that be, now?’

  ‘I heard of it quite by chance when I was in the town on business a few months back. Seemingly Diodotus used to practise there before he moved to Baiae. There was a’ - he paused and took another sip from his cup - ‘another young wife with a rich elderly husband. Diodotus was treating him for the stone. The man died, suddenly and unexpectedly, in his litter.’
>
  ‘These things happen, pal.’ I picked up my spoon and kept my tone expressionless. ‘Especially if the guy was getting on in years.’

  ‘Indeed they do, Corvinus. However, the coincidence is striking, wouldn’t you say? And Diodotus left Drepanum shortly afterwards.’

  Yeah, well; no surprises there. I knew enough about doctors and doctoring to know that if you lost a patient under these circumstances it didn’t do much for your professional street cred. Still, despite the obvious fact - the painfully obvious fact - that Chlorus was still sharpening his knife for Diodotus and Gellia, he was right; if true, the story was interesting. And I hadn’t crossed Diodotus off the list, far from it. ‘Does Gellia know about this?’

  ‘Of course. That’s the point.’ He looked at me slyly. ‘I told her myself immediately I got back. Perhaps a mistake, in retrospect.’

  Uh-huh. ‘What about Murena?’

  He frowned. ‘I beg your pardon? I’m not with you.’

  ‘Did you tell him as well?’

  A momentary hesitation. ‘Yes, I did, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He...paid no attention.’

  From Chlorus’s slightly poker-up-the-rectum expression the old man had probably laughed in his face. That’s not to say, mind, that he’d been right to do it. Only - if the news that the rumour was out had got back to Diodotus through either Murena or Gellia - I would’ve thought if anything else that should his thoughts be tending that way the knowledge that his current patient knew he’d been under suspicion of murder once already would’ve put the brakes on a repeat performance.

  ‘You mind if I ask you about something else?’ I said. ‘Not connected with Diodotus?’

  ‘Of course not. I’m delighted to help in any way.’

  Yeah, right. Sure he was. My grip on the spoon tightened. ‘Your brother and Aquillius Florus. They’ve got some business together involving a grain barge. You know anything about that?’