‘Go ahead.’
She took a deep breath. ‘It’s about Satrius, sir.’
Which was as far as she got before clamming up again. Jupiter! This was like pulling teeth! And I’m never at my best with terrified, mousey little slave girls. ‘You want to talk to Perilla rather than me, Cleia?’ I said. ‘I can get her if –’
‘No!’ The eyes came up; they were red-rimmed, with black shadows under them. ‘The mistress said it had to be you. You’d know what to do.’
‘Okay.’ I sat down beside her. ‘In your own time, then. But I don’t bite.’
‘He killed Astrapton.’
‘What?’
‘It’s true, sir. Or at least I think it is.’
‘Ah…you care to tell me why?’ I had to fight to keep my voice level.
‘He knew where he was hiding.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, of course he did. I went round with him myself, and –’
‘No. Before. Three days ago.’
I sat back. ‘Three days ago? But –’ This didn’t make sense. I’d been there in Eutacticus’s study when Satrius had told him that Astrapton had just been traced. And that was two days ago, not three, after we’d got back from the Golden Fleece. Satrius hadn’t known where Astrapton was then…
Or at least if he had he’d kept the information to himself.
Shit!
‘How do you know?’ I said calmly.
‘My brother told me.’
‘Your brother?’
‘My brother Alexander, sir. He said he told Satrius where to look for Astrapton – where to start looking, at least – the day before he died.’
My brain was whirling. ‘That was pretty fast work,’ I said. ‘The word didn’t go out that Astrapton had done a runner until three days ago. So how did your brother know where he’d gone?’
‘He’s one of the clerks, sir. They got on together, him and Astrapton. They shared the same interests.’ She glanced up at me quickly under lowered lashes. ‘Girls. That sort of thing. You know? About a month ago, Astrapton mentioned one he’d found one in the Subura who worked as a dancer in a club called Cupid’s Bow.’
‘You have a name, maybe? For the girl, I mean.’
‘Lysidice. At least, I think that was it. He’d set her up in a flat of her own, in the tenement next door. Astrapton could afford that. He always had plenty of money.’
‘Okay. Go on.’
‘Alexander’s clever, sir. When Astrapton disappeared, he –’
‘Put two and two together. Right.’ Gods! ‘And he told Satrius all this, yes?’
‘As soon as he knew Astrapton was missing.’
Three days ago. Sure, it fitted: with a definite address in his pocket, Laughing George could’ve gone straight to the poor bastard and zeroed him before he had time to unpack. The only question – and it was the biggie – was why?
Unless he was working for Paetinius Senior, of course. And that opened a whole new can of worms.
Mind you, if that was the case then the guy was running a hell of a risk. If Eutacticus found out – which, now, he would, because I’d tell him myself assuming the girl’s story checked out; I couldn’t risk not doing it – then Satrius was crows’-meat. ‘Can I talk to your brother directly?’
She looked frightened. ‘No! Please!’
‘Why not?’
‘He saw me leaving the house. Satrius, I mean. This morning.’
‘So?’
‘He knows that Alexander knows. He knows he’s my brother. If he suspected anything, if he followed me, then –!’ Forget frightened; the kid was terrified. ‘Sir, I wouldn’t’ve come at all if the mistress hadn’t sent me! She made me come! Please!’
I stood up. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘Your brother’s in no danger, right? Satrius isn’t a fool. If he hasn’t tried anything yet – which he hasn’t – then he wouldn’t dare do it now, not with me and your mistress both knowing the story. If the guy came to any harm as far as he’s concerned it’d only put the lid on things.’ Shit; Perilla’d be a lot better at this than I would. Reassurance wasn’t my bag. Where was the lady when I needed her? ‘Okay. Compromise. You get back. If Satrius should ask you where you’ve been, or even if he has followed you and knows you came here, you tell him that your mistress sent you to ask me whether I have any more news. The answer was no. Tell Sempronia from me she’ll have to confirm that if need be. You got that?’
She nodded dumbly.
‘Good. I’ll drop by later today and –’
‘No!’
‘Cleia, listen. It’s no big deal. I’ve been to the house twice before, and I was meaning to come round today in any case. Talk it over with Sempronia and your brother. If he does decide to see me personally –’ She shivered and clutched herself. ‘If he does, then we can work something out. In that case there’ll be no risk, none, I guarantee it. Now off you go. And thank you.’
She left, and I sat back down on the couch to think.
Okay. It made some kind of sense, and it fitted in with the theory so far. Where Astrapton’s death was concerned, it cleared up the problem of timing: Eutacticus’s organisation might’ve been efficient, but a scant two days between the guy walking out of the gate and being traced to a Suburan flat was pretty good going. I should’ve wondered about that at the time. Oh, sure, the theory held good where the actual murder was concerned: if Astrapton was working for Paetinius, which he was by the guy’s own admission, then it was well within the bounds of credibility that Paetinius would know where to find him, and if he was killed on Paetinius’s orders that part of things was cut and dried. But Eutacticus’s team was another matter. Without any firm leads to go on – and if there had been I’d never known what they were – it should’ve taken a lot longer than it did. The Subura’s a big place, and Rome itself’s a hell of a lot bigger.
It fitted in with the circumstances of young Luscius’s death, too. Pace what I’d said to Perilla, I’d never been quite happy with the explanation there: from what I’d seen of them both, neither of our two theoretical murderers quite came up to scratch: I didn’t know how the slave Lynchus weighed in, but Titus Luscius’s friend Bellarius had said the guy was no pushover where fighting went. You’d have to factor in the element of surprise, sure, and that might well be crucial, but neither Astrapton nor Paetinius were expert killers. Satrius was, in spades; if need be, I’d bet that he could’ve taken both Luscius and his slave easily. And if both he and Astrapton were working for the same boss then it was a partnership made in heaven. Or wherever.
It explained other things, too: Satrius’s reluctance, when we found Astrapton’s body, to let me talk to his girlfriend’s neighbours, and the missing cash; Eutacticus himself had said that it’d be second nature to any of his hit-men, or Paetinius’s, to liberate any pouches they found lying around.
Yeah. It added up. What precisely it added up to, I didn’t fully understand yet. But at least for once we were ahead of the game. So long as Satrius didn’t know he’d been rumbled. I just hoped, whatever assurances I’d given Cleia, that he didn’t.
Meanwhile, I’d got a name and a place: Lysidice, and the Cupid’s Bow club, next door to where we’d found the body. Even if I didn’t get to speak to Alexander, I could do a bit of independent checking. If it got me involved with the local Watch re Astrapton’s death, then tough: I’d just have to get Lippillus to put in a good word for me with his opposite number in the Fourth District. And if Eutacticus had any complaints he could go and screw himself.
* * *
Luckily Agron had arranged to see a man about a big cart-building contract that morning, and Cass had gone off with Perilla on one of their usual shop-until-you-drop binges where male company is positively discouraged, so I was free of the usual host obligations for the present. I walked over to the Subura and found the street where Satrius had taken me three days before. Sure enough, next to the tenement Astrapton had died in was a two-storey building with a plaque set into the wall beside the door showing Cupid taking aim at a lady we
aring a smirk and not much else. At that range, and given the breadth of the target, the kid couldn’t miss. The door was locked, which was par for the course at this time of day. I knocked and kept on knocking until the grille opened.
‘Piss off,’ the guy behind it said. ‘We’re closed until sunset.’
The reaction wasn’t exactly unexpected. I didn’t have Laughing George with me this time, but I did have the magic words.
‘You want me to go back and tell Sempronius Eutacticus that?’ I said.
The door was opened with alacrity.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ the slave said. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘The boss in?’
‘Yes, sir. Just go straight through.’
I did, into the main room of the club itself. Forget the Fleece; Cupid’s Bow was pretty basic, with nothing but a low stage, a bar area, some third-class murals on the wall that looked like they’d been painted by a particularly dirty-minded but talentless child of six, and a few unmatched tables and chairs that any self-respecting auction room in Rome would’ve sold off for scrap. This was the Subura, after all, and what the local punters were interested in was naked flesh and booze at rock-bottom prices, not flashy décor.
The owner – that had to be him, sitting at one of the tables, tucking into a late breakfast or early lunch of bread and bean stew – fitted the place. Sleazy, greasy and with as much visible appeal as a snot-filled handkerchief.
‘Yeah?’ he said through a mouthful of the local cookshop’s best. ‘What’s your business?’
‘The name’s Marcus Corvinus, pal,’ I said. ‘I’m representing Sempronius Eutacticus.’
The magic words again. He swallowed, stood up and brushed crumbs and stray beans off his tunic. I could grow to like this.
‘Eutacticus?’
‘That’s right. He understands you’ve got a girl working here. A dancer. Name of Lysidice.’
‘What does Eutacticus want with her?’
‘Just a five-minute chat. Or rather, I do as his rep. She does work here, then?’
‘Did. I haven’t seen her for days. Not since her boyfriend was found stiff in her room with his throat cut. She’s cleared out completely.’ He belched. ‘That what this is about?’
‘More or less. The boyfriend was Eutacticus’s accountant.’
‘Oh, fuck!’ The guy swallowed again. Not beans this time; he just swallowed. ‘He thinks she did it?’
‘No. He knows who was responsible. He’s just curious about the details. Hence the visit.’
‘Me, I don’t know nothing.’
It could be true, of course. If I’d been the Watch, sure, it would’ve been the instinctive reply from any Suburan worth his salt, the verbal equivalent of a knee-jerk, and I’d’ve discounted it as such on principle. On the other hand, when one of Eutacticus’s reps – self-styled, naturally, but he wasn’t to know that – was the person doing the asking it was more believable. Not completely believable, mind, but there you went. A little pressure might do it.
‘Come on, pal,’ I said. ‘You can do better than that, surely? The boss really, really wants hard information here. If I ask around, maybe the girl’s neighbours, and find you were holding out on me then when I tell him he isn’t going to be very pleased, is he?’
The guy practically whimpered. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘She was back in here not long after she’d finished her stint and gone home, in a bit of a state, saying she was in trouble and asking for money.’
‘This was the night before? Before the body was discovered, I mean?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You give her it? The money?’
‘Lysidice’s a nice girl. Never any trouble, like most of them are, never asked for a sub before. And she was desperate, I could see that. I paid her the wages she was owed, maybe a touch more.’
Okay; so that fixed the time of the murder to the previous night. It also let the girl off the hook as far as pocketing any cash Astrapton had brought with him was concerned. The person who’d taken that, Satrius or whoever, must’ve been the guy’s killer. ‘She didn’t say what the trouble was? Or where she was going?’
‘No. I swear. I didn’t know nothing about her boyfriend until the next day, when one of the other girls who works here went round to visit and found the body.’
‘What about the neighbours? That late in the evening they’d be at home, right? No one saw or heard anything?’
He looked at me as if I’d grown an extra head. ‘This is the Subura,’ he said. ‘Here you keep your doors locked after dark. You don’t look outside them. And if you do hear anything that sounds like trouble you forget about it as soon as you hear it, because trouble is catching. Besides, the flat opposite’s empty.’
‘Right. Thanks for your help, pal. You’ve been very informative.’ I turned to go. ‘By the way, you happen to know someone called Satrius?’
‘Eutacticus’s man?’ He looked, suddenly, nervous. ‘Yeah. Not personally, just the name.’
‘You ever see him around here? Has anyone?’
‘He the one who did it?’
Well, disreputable blot on the landscape the guy might be, but he was quick enough on the uptake. ‘Just answer the question, pal.’
‘No. No, I’m sorry. Can’t help you there.’
I tried the magic word again. ‘Not even if it’s Eutacticus doing the asking?’
He was sweating, but he looked me straight in the eye. ‘I’ve never even seen the man,’ he said. ‘That’s the gods’ honest truth. I swear it.’
Yeah, maybe. Still, I’d seen the effect Laughing George had on people like this poor bastard. Scylla and Charybdis came to mind: getting on the wrong side of either of them from choice was a bad, bad idea. And until the boss of Cupid’s Bow personally saw Satrius’s ashes shovelled into an urn I’d bet he wouldn’t dare peach on him. Even then he’d probably think twice.
I left the guy to his beans.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Right. The Pincian. Only I wouldn’t hurry, to give Cleia a bit of breathing space and some time to talk things over with her brother. Not that I’d any fears that this would turn out a bum lead: the circumstantial side of her story had checked out at every turn, it fitted in with all the other facts and with the theory as well. Besides, the girl had been genuinely terrified at the thought of coming to see me at all.
So I killed a few hours in a friendly wineshop I knew on the way that had some decent wines on the board and rolled up at Eutacticus’s gate when the sun was well into its third quarter.
‘Go straight on in,’ the guy on the gate said. ‘The master’s expecting you.’
‘He is?’
‘Yeah. Has been for the last couple of hours, at least.’
Shit; I didn’t like the sound of this.
Eutacticus was in his study, talking to – or at, rather – a couple of guys I didn’t know but who looked like heavies. He looked up with a face like thunder.
‘What kept you, Corvinus?’ he snarled.
‘Uh…’
‘Never mind, you’re here now. You get the message?’
‘What message?’
He sent the heavies out with a flick of a finger. They trooped past me with set faces. ‘There’ve been developments. One of my clerks’s been found dead with a knife wound in his belly and Satrius is missing.’
Oh, gods. ‘Alexander?’
He stared. ‘How the fuck did you know that? Sit down. We have to talk.’
I did. ‘Okay. So tell me. What happened?’
‘Not much to tell. One of the garden slaves found the body earlier this morning stashed behind a tree at the back of the house. I sent for Satrius to get him to fetch you but Critias couldn’t trace him. The gate slave said he’d left the premises. What the fuck is going on here? And how the hell did you know about Alexander?’
I felt sick. ‘Your daughter’s maid came to see me this morning,’ I said. ‘She’s Alexander’s sister. She said that he’d told Satrius wh
ere to find Astrapton, the day before we went to the Subura and discovered the body.’
‘The day before? But Satrius told me –’
‘Right. Only he’d already killed the guy himself, the previous evening. I’ve just checked and it all works out.’
‘Satrius killed Astrapton?’
‘Yeah. Your stepson as well. At least, that’s what it looks like.’
‘Gods!’ Eutacticus sat back in his chair. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘Sure it does. Satrius was working for Paetinius. My guess is that he and Astrapton did the job together, on Paetinius’s orders.’
‘Satrius has been with me for years! I trusted the bastard!’
I shrugged. ‘That’s the theory. And it fits the facts, right down the line.’
‘You’re sure about this? One hundred percent, cast iron sure?’
‘Yeah.’
He got up, made for the door, opened it and bellowed:
‘Critias!’
The major-domo must’ve been waiting in the corridor, because he was straight in.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Put the word out. I want Satrius found. Tear the fucking city apart if you have to, but find him!’
The guy looked scared. ‘Yes, sir.’ He left.
‘He’ll’ve gone to Paetinius,’ I said. ‘Or at least that’s my best bet. Where else could he go?’
‘I’ll get him.’ Eutacticus came back to the desk and sat down. ‘Sooner or later. Don’t you worry about that. And when I do the bastard won’t die easy. As for Paetinius, I told you before, he’s dead meat.’
Well, I’d reckon the jury was still out on that one. When I’d talked to him, Paetinius Senior hadn’t seemed to be too concerned on that score, and Lippillus had said the guy had pretty considerable clout of his own. He’d’ve had to be fairly sure of his ground before he risked an all-out war with Eutacticus to begin with; he might even have decided the odds would be on his side when the shit hit the shovel and engineered the confrontation deliberately. Still, that was none of my concern; they were both crooks, and the pair of them could go to hell in a handcart with my blessing. In any event, I certainly wasn’t going to broach the subject with Eutacticus himself. I kept my mouth firmly shut.
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