Lindsey Davis - Falco 15 - The Accusers

by The Accusers(lit)

SMUFFLING NOISES announced trouble. I deduced that Nux was now lying outside in the corridor, full length, with her paws against the door and her nose pressed to the gap at the bottom. I could also detect that little Julia must be prone alongside, bottom up, mimicking Nux. They could not get in. However, more competent noises told me that someone else, someone adept at domestic burglary, was working on the latch with a piece of wire expertly poked through the side crack in the door. We were about to be invaded. I had seen enough children rescued from cupboards to know who was coming to get me.

  Helena was sitting in her chair, fully clad and innocent, when the door opened. Nux shot in and hurled herself on to the bed. Julia was being gripped under a firm arm.

  `Hello, Ma.’

  `This door sticks!’ exclaimed my mother, as if she assumed I had not noticed the problem. `What can you expect - in this house?’ Her disapproving sniff referred to my father, who had owned the house previously. Then she looked me over. `What happened to you, then?’

  `I’m fine.’

  `I asked what happened. Still, I see you survived.’ Helena had quietly relinquished her chair, taking Julia. Julia tried the screaming-at-father trick, though in the presence of her awesome grandma she moderated the noise. My curly-haired daughter had a fine sense of who would tolerate nonsense. Ma perched in the wicker chair with a scowl like a particularly anti-social goddess of retribution.

  `How are you, dear mother? How is Aristagoras?’

  `Who?’ asked Ma, as she always did when anyone enquired after her eighty-year-old boyfriend. I backed off. I never had the nerve to ascertain exactly what was going on. My father had asked me to find out - which was another reason not to. `I heard there was trouble,’ Ma sniffed. `I see that’s right.’

  `Misunderstanding with some men who don’t like my current workload… Who told you?’ I assumed it was Petronius, then I remembered that Maia and Petro were not speaking to Ma. Whereas a sane mother might be expected to feel glad that her troubled daughter had now found stability with a good-looking, salaried officer who adored her, mine kept passing remarks about Petro’s estranged wife not deserving to lose him…

  `Anacrites never forgets his poor old landlady.’

  `Bull’s bollocks!’

  `I don’t know who taught you to be so crude.’ Ma sniffed, implying it was Pa.

  Anacrites was the Chief Spy - a one-time follower of my sister Maia, who had turned violent when she dumped him. Even before that he was my long-term enemy - but he had been Ma’s lodger and she thought him little lower than a Sun God in a twinkly diadem. I had other views about where his rays shone.

  I ignored the low hint that Anacrites, who was not even family, paid more attention to my mother than I did. `I did not want that bastard to know I was back in Rome.’

  `Don’t get your name everywhere in the Forum then. He says you are a byword for stupidity, because of this law work.’

  `He thinks that only because I’m bringing justice to the innocent - a concept far too noble for Anacrites.’

  Faced with a son who had noble motives, Ma lost interest. She lowered her voice. `He knows Maia is back too.’ She was worried, seeking reassurance. I sighed. I had none to give. If the Spy still harboured resentment, Maia was in for trouble.

  Helena asked, `Does Anacrites know about Maia and Petronius?’

  `He asked me,’ said Ma.

  `And you told him!’ I scoffed.

  `He knew anyway.’

  Another problem.

  Helena passed Julia back to my mother. ‘Junilla Tacita, if you could stay for a while and keep an eye on my brood, I should be very glad. My brother’s wife is having her baby and I would appreciate a chance to go over there.’

  Thrilled to be asked, Ma let a put-upon look pass over her features for a suitable moment as she pinned down Julia’s plump thrashing legs. `If they need a nurse, you have the right candidate sitting right downstairs. I was talking to her earlier - well, someone had to show some civility; poor dear, she’s quite abandoned, all by herself in the hall -‘

  `Who, Ma?’

  ‘Ursulina Prisca. She seems a very nice woman,’ Ma told me pointedly.

  ‘Quintus is looking after her woes.’ Helena was searching for her ear-rings. My mother’s keen black eyes had spotted the search and noted that the jewellery had ended up on the table. She sensed something private, though in the more interesting quest to set us straight about Ursulina, it passed without comment.

  `Well, your Quintus needs to sort out that pig-farm business before the cousin ruins everything. Tell him the assessment of the walnut crop sounds very low to me.’ Ma and Ursulina Prisca must have found each other kindred spirits. `The valuer is a liability, and if you want my advice -‘Which we didn’t. `Which of course will not be welcome as I’m just an old lady who brought up seven children single-handed, and I’m supposed to have no knowledge of the world -‘

  `What advice, Ma?’

  `Do not trust the freedman with the limp!’

  Helena told Mother gently that she would pass all that on to Quintus, who was very good at caring for widows.

  `I wish I had someone to look after me!’ snapped Ma. `If they need a good midwife -‘

  `I’m sure Mother has found them one,’ Helena muttered. Upon mention of Julia Justa, Ma shut her mouth like a tightly pleated furnishing feature on a smooth bolster. She had a wonderful complexion, which belied her age. It was a tribute to home-macerated face cream, brewed to a secret recipe which Ma passed off as mainly rose petals (this may have been true, but on principle my mother managed to make it sound like a bluff}.

  When Helena escaped to see about Claudia Rufina’s progress, I claimed I was feeling poorly and needed to be left alone to sleep. After another hour of rollicking comment, my mother did leave me, removing my daughter and dog too. Exhausted, I fell into a deep slumber.

  Honorius was the first of the forage party to report in.

  `Negrinus refuses flatly to contest the will. No reason. I thought his sister, Carina, might argue - but she backed him up. Her husband, Laco, appeared for once - though he would not interfere.’

  `So Negrinus is throwing it all away.’

  Honorius sat on my bed with his arms folded. ‘Negrinus is an odd body, Falco. One minute he shows all the anger you’d expect from a man in his situation. Then he suddenly implodes and seems to accept being shoved down a shit-hole by his closest relatives.’

  `He is keeping something from us,’ I said. `He’ll fight for himself when he’s about to be charged with parricide - an offence that will get him sewn in a sack and thrown into the sea if he’s found guilty. But when the penalty is less drastic, he reins back. He must have a reason to lie low.’

  `So it’s find the reason, then?’

  `Oh yes - but you tell me where to start!’

  We were both at a loss.

  `I tried to see Saffia,’ Honorius then told me. I refrained from throwing my water jug at his stupid head. Tantrums don’t suit mature men. Anyway it was a decent jug. `No luck. Incommunicado. Household in uproar. Males barred on the threshold. She has gone into labour, I was informed.,

  ‘They must be putting birth-inducement powders in the aqueducts,’ I growled. `We have to see her. She seems to have gripped old Metellus by the privates - with the rest of the family all standing back helplessly to watch.’

  `Well yes, but it won’t look too good, Falco, if we harass Saffia for answers while she’s in full birth pang!’

  `You’re a softie. It’s just the moment.’

  `That’s one of your jokes,’ Honorius replied stiffly.

  `You’re scared you’ll end up snipping an umbilical cord or gathering up the afterbirth.’

  The young man with the neat haircut managed not to shudder. `Since Saffia was out, I tackled Calpurnia -‘ This was even worse. Honorius had no idea of following orders or working in a systematic way as part of a team. `She was at home, I’m certain. She just refused to see me.’

  With a restraint that
Helena would have applauded, I begged Honorius to do nothing with our suspects and witnesses unless I asked him specifically.

  `Right. So you don’t want me to interview the clown, I take it?’

  `What clown?’ I demanded through clenched teeth.

  He looked huffy. `The one who was intended to be the satire at the Metellus funeral. I obtained his address from Biltis, that woman mourner Aelianus interviewed. Biltis,’ Honorius repeated. `Her name was in your original report to Silius. You know, before the charges we brought against Juliana… I’m trying to get things moving, Falco. I feel I am wasting my efforts, however.’

  He finished whining, before I lost it and belted him. `Any other suspects you’ve barged in on without consulting me?’ I was livid. But it was good work to go back to the old report, and it was sensible to use the mourner, Biltis, to track down the clown. They were both marked up in Helena’s notes as needing further enquiry. I myself had intended to look for the clown, when I got around to it.

  Hurt, Honorius clammed up.

  `Well, the clown was a bright idea.’ Praise failed to mollify Honorius. `Perhaps he’ll know why Calpurnia upset her husband enough to be left almost nothing, and why Birdy has been written out too.’

  `That’s what I thought.’

  I said I would go to see the clown tomorrow, row, but that Honorius could come with me. He quietened down.

  `I wonder how funeral comedians do their research, Falco? If they just used the bland material that bereaved families supply to them, their performances would be pretty tame. At all the funerals I have attended or watched passing by, the clowns have given the dead man quite a raw deal. They can really hit on a person’s weaknesses, and the crowds respond to it. Do they have methods of finding out stories the family would prefer to keep quiet?’

  I smiled. `They do. They winkle hard.’ He still looked puzzled. `They use informers, Honorius!’

  Helena came home, bringing the news that Claudia Rufina had been safely delivered of a son. `It didn’t take too long and there were no panics. Claudia is sleeping; Quintus is sobbing with emotion but he’ll get over it. My mother wore herself out but she’s fine now - father and she are collapsed in a salon with an amphora of wine. The baby has all its limbs, and a tuft of dark hair, and seems likely to live. You’re an uncle, Aulus!’ Aelianus had overheard the news as he arrived. He pulled a mocking face, while presenting Nux with a large packet of skin-ailment ointment. Nux knew the scent, and hid under the bed. `You and I have our first nephew. Be nice, and maybe they will name him after you.’

  `Oh I hope not!’ Helena was teasing, but her brother sounded horrified. `I suppose now I’m expected to buy it a gold bulla to hang round its fat little neck?’

  `No need, dear,’ Helena told him sweetly. `Mother has bought one to be your gift.’

  Aelianus contained his grumpiness. Maybe the thought that his younger brother’s bachelor spree was over had cheered him up.

  As he waited for the fuss over the new baby to subside, I could see he was elated. As soon as we could politely forget about his brother, I asked what was up.

  `Just as well you sent me out, not young Quintus, Falco. I started at the Forum, and was intending to work over to the eastern side, moving towards where the Metelli live. I checked all the streets at the back of the public buildings on the western side first. Around there it’s bookshops and jewellers mainly, but one or two other booths can be found tucked in under the Palatine. I thought there might be incense-sellers -‘

  `An entirely sane presumption, given the temples.’ Honorius sounded unduly straight. Aelianus shot him a surly look in case he was being sarcastic.

  He let the pause linger, milking it. Then he came out with his big discovery: `I found a man who admitted selling hemlock, last autumn.’

  `Well done.’ I was surprised.

  `Mind you,’ murmured Honorius, playing the sceptical advocate, `was it the right hemlock?’

  `It’s our stuff,’ smirked Aelianus. He seemed unfazed by Honorius.

  `Proving this is the dose used on Metellus won’t be easy after all this time -‘

  `This was not a simple transaction; hemlock isn’t a stock item,’ said Aelianus, suddenly the expert. `You don’t just turn up and pick your bunch of leaves from the bundles hanging on a stall. It was special order; the seller had to have the plant fetched from a market garden he owns out in the countryside.’

  `So he had several meetings with the buyer?’ I could see where Aulus was heading.

  `At least two. Naturally I wanted to know more about this buyer,’ Aelianus emphasised heavily to Honorius.

  Honorius had an ear for a witness who was about to make a dramatic statement. `And?’

  `The seeker of endless sleep was a man in his forties. Not patrician, not a slave, probably not a freedman either. Stocky, shorn head, heavy outerwear, could be a bruiser. Familiar?’ Stilled, I glanced at him. Aelianus knew I had recognised the description. Honorius nervously shook his head.

  `Could almost be someone daft enough to settle up with a signature!’ Aelianus grinned. `He wanted to pay with cash, but hemlock is an unusual request and the seller was an opportunist, so the price was exorbitant. The buyer fetched out his purse, but he hadn’t enough money on him. Sadly, just as he was about to write a banker’s draft on his employer’s account, he changed his mind.’

  `Now that would have been a piece of luck for us - and absolutely daft for him!’ I said. `He never did it?’

  ‘No. He remembered some coins that he kept in his boot. My seller joked that he could identify him by his athlete’s foot.’

  `Sensational in court! Enough suspense,’ I chivvied. `Who was this poison-purchaser?’ I already knew, of course. So when Aelianus tried to squeeze more glory from the moment by dragging things out even longer, I myself said quietly, `It was Bratta.’

  Bratta was the informer used by Paccius Africanus. He was on my mind today. For one thing, as I lay dreaming in bed I had become sure it was Bratta’s voice that had ordered me to give up this case last night. Once I had thought of him, I had no doubt it had been Bratta’s boot that kicked me in the eye.

  XXVI

  WE TOOK stock.

  `You have,’ listed Helena, annoying both her brother and Honorius by the ease with which she took charge, `an opinion that Calpurnia Cara must have offended her husband.’

  `That can be built up well in court,’ Honorius interposed.

  `No doubt. Alternatively, Rubirius Metellus may just have been a mean old tyrant, who behaved spitefully to a wife of forty years who deserved far better!’

  `But we make our point first.’ Honorius smiled.

  Helena shrugged. `I see. You say, What husband would dream of removing from his faithful wife all the comforts she has enjoyed through their long marriage - unless he believes her affection is fraudulent - maybe he even suspects she is capable of murder if he will not act as she wishes…’

  `Why did they not divorce?’ I wondered.

  `Easy,’ Helena snapped. ‘Metellus had written her out of his will - but Calpurnia did not know.’ She gave me a long look and I made two mental notes. One, it was time I prepared a testament. Two, Helena Justina should feature in it.

  `But if he hated her, why not tell her?’

  `Scared, Marcus.’

  `A man scared of his wife!’

  `Yes, how unlikely. But we know she thought him a coward, darling… Then,’ said Helena calmly to Honorius, `you have a link between Paccius urging Metellus to commit suicide, Calpurnia suggesting death by hemlock, and Bratta, known to be a runaround for Paccius, buying hemlock. Yes, the defence can argue that the drug was for other purposes - but you will ask them what. There are not many uses commonly. You can dismiss any suggestion as a curious coincidence.’

  `They will maintain Bratta simply bought the hemlock for use by Negrinus,’ Honorius offered. `They’ll say Negrinus requested it.’

  `He will deny it.’

  `They will say he’s a shamele
ss liar. We can only retaliate by trying to discredit them.’

  `I’ll sort that,’ I said. `Your job is to imply Paccius Africanus - now openly attacking Negrinus - has become an evil influence in the Metellus family. Stress a dark connection between Paccius and the mother -‘

  `Conspiracy with Calpurnia? Unproven,’ reflected Honorius, `but any jury will assume the reasons were sexual. We don’t even have to say it. They will be eager to draw the worst conclusion. Then -‘

  `Then Paccius had also worked on Metellus, wickedly persuading him to disinherit his son and two daughters, in favour of Saffia,’ I ticked off

  `So… we suggest an unsuitable affinity between Metellus and his daughter-in-law, plus more immorality between Paccius and Saffia.’ Honorius, supposedly the young idealist, came out with these shameless slurs automatically. I was impressed.

  `Working with Silius has had its effect,’ I commented.

  `Working against Silius and Paccius will not be easy.’

  `That’s right,’ I grinned. `Be aware of the odds. Then you can’t fail.’

  Honorius was silent. The good-looking patrician always knew when we were mocking him, though he never knew how to respond. Taking pity, Helena asked if he would make anything of my identification of Bratta among my last night’s attackers. Honorius turned to her, answering courteously, `We do not have much else to offer the court. So yes. It always goes down well to suggest that the opposition uses thuggery.’

  `Threats are viewed badly by juries - and they hate disorder in the streets,’ I agreed.

  Honorius had been mulling. `I shall present Negrinus as an unworldly, innocent victim, set up by a gang of cynical bullies who habitually try to pervert justice. Keep that bandage on your eye, Falco. In fact, Helena Justina, it would help if you could pad it out to look slightly bigger. If his bruises fade, you may be able to enhance them with a little feminine eye colour -‘

  `Eye paint?’ Helena asked frostily. I was aware that she used it on special occasions; I grinned at her.

  `Yes, try orchid rouge, with smudges of blue put on afterwards.’ Honorius was serious. He had done it in the past. How fortunate that this manipulator was on our side - though we had yet to see what tricks the others would play to disadvantage us.