Then I set off for the Asinian Gardens.
I’d no plan, of course, and hardly time to make one, even if that had been possible at such short notice. I reckoned that my best bet was to be absolutely truthful. If I could convince the kidnappers that neither I nor Bathyllus knew where Damon was and persuade them to cut me a bit of slack over the delivery then that was about all I could hope for. If they’d play ball maybe I could talk Eutacticus into taking a more urgent interest, and if he could find the bastards – and consequently Bathyllus – before they lost patience and decided to cut their losses then....
Yeah, right. Far too many ifs and maybes. The long and short of it was, practically speaking, I hadn’t a hope in hell.
Fuck.
There was one aspect of all this, though, that did puzzle me, and if I’d been more in the mood for an intellectual challenge I’d’ve given it a bit of extended thought. How had the kidnappers known I’d had any dealings with Damon at all? Let alone – as they thought – be in a position to hand him over? Oh, sure, they’d known about the Aventine tenement and Damon’s existence from the start, no argument, but the guy’s subsequent movements and contacts were another thing entirely. And what they didn’t know on that subject was just as interesting: they didn’t know where he’d been hiding out, because if they had they’d obviously have bagged him in the interim and saved themselves a lot of grief. And they clearly didn’t know he’d done a runner.
It was odd, to say the least, and I don’t do odd. Certainly, when – if – I got the chance to think things through it’d be well worth the effort.
It was well into the second hour when I reached the Gardens. I went through the gate. This early in the morning there was no one around. These places don’t get busy until much later in the day, and even then only when the weather’s good, which that day it wasn’t; and besides, unlike the city’s other, bigger public gardens – the Sallustian on the Quirinal and Maecenas Gardens to the north – the Asinian ones aren’t so popular. Which, obviously, was further evidence, if I needed it, that there’d been a planning brain at work here.
Fine; I’d got to the Gardens on time. But where the hell was the Grotto of the Nymphs? Small or not, they still covered a fair acreage, and I just didn’t have time for the luxury of getting lost. I took a path at random and tried to keep my increasing feeling of desperation in check.
I was lucky; when I rounded the first bend there was an old guy hoeing one of the flower beds.
‘Morning, Gramps,’ I said. ‘I’m looking for Nymphs’ Grotto. Can you tell me where it is?’
He stopped hoeing and turned to look at me. Peer at me, rather: he was eighty if he was a day, and not a spry eighty, either.
‘What?’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to speak up. Ears aren’t too good this morning.’
Fuck. ‘The Grotto of the Nymphs,’ I shouted. ‘Where is it?’
‘Oh. Now you’re asking.’ He leaned on his hoe and looked around him like he’d suddenly been transported to a country far away and beyond the ken of mortals. Then he pointed to the left. ‘Over there, sir. Near the boundary wall. Carry on for a bit and there’s a path leading that way further on. You can’t miss it.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, and moved past him. I’d only got a few yards when he called me back.
‘Hold on, sir. Nymphs’ Grotto, did you say?’
I turned. Jupiter! ‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.’
‘Sorry, sir, my mistake. That’s the Grotto of Pan. You want to carry on straight. You’ll see a big ilex where the path forks. Take the right hand fork and it’ll lead you straight to it.’
‘Got you.’ I started off at a half-run. I didn’t trust the old bugger’s directions further than he could stagger on a good day with the wind behind him, but there wasn’t much time left and they were all I had. I’d just have to keep my fingers crossed.
Well, at least the big ilex was where he’d said it would be, and yes, the path forked just beyond it. So far so good; score one for Tithonus. I took the right hand branch and broke into a proper run.
I could see the grotto ahead of me now, an outcrop of stone at the end of the path with water cascading down it partly hiding the cave opening, and with some serious female statuary showing coyly through the ferns on either side. There was a low wall in front holding the water in to form a pool, and a man sitting on it.
I slowed to a walk, and he glanced up and past me. He didn’t look too pleased, which I supposed was understandable under the circumstances.
‘Valerius Corvinus?’ he said. He was a big guy built like a wrestler, the hired muscle type. Obviously the more loquacious of Lydia’s wineshop pals.
‘That’s me,’ I said.
‘Where’s the slave?’
‘We, uh, need to talk about that.’
‘What’s to talk about?’ He stood up slowly. Six feet, easy, and like I say solid muscle. ‘You were told to bring him, end of story.’
‘Yeah, well, truth of the matter is I didn’t have him to bring.’
He turned to one side and spat.
‘Is that so, now?’ he said.
‘That’s so. I did have him but he ran off three days back. I haven’t seen him since. Sorry, pal, but I can’t help you. Not for the present, at least.’
He gave me a long, slow, considering look. Then he grunted. ‘That’s a pity,’ he said. I didn’t reply. ‘A real pity. Whether you’re telling the truth or not.’
‘It’s the truth. Where’s my major-domo?’
‘Safe enough.’ He grinned; not a pleasant grin. ‘For the moment, anyway. Although seeing as you’ve come alone I doubt if that’ll last long.’
‘You bastard.’ I said it quietly.
‘Proud of it.’ The grin widened. ‘How do you want it done? Throat cut? Stabbed like that fucker Oplonius? Or something a tad more lingering? He might be able to help us more than you claim to be able to, and it’d be stupid not to give him the same chance as we gave Oplonius. Your decision, friend, but make it now and make it quick.’
‘Bathyllus doesn’t know where Damon is any more than I do,’ I said.
‘Fine. Then it’ll make it all the worse for him, won’t it?’ I’d begun reaching surreptitiously beneath my cloak for the knife, and he shook his head. ‘I really wouldn’t do that. Dagger in your belt, is it? Believe me, I’d break your arm before you had a chance to use it, and then I’d use it on you myself. Slowly. Besides, if I’m not back by noon your slave’s dead in any case.’
I took my hand away. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘This whole thing’s pointless. I’m telling you, neither of us knows where Damon’s got to, and we haven’t a hope in hell of finding him, either. All this is for nothing; you’re killing an innocent man for no reason. If you and your boss, whoever he is, want the fucking necklace then look for it elsewhere, and good luck to you. All I want is my major-domo back in one piece. Understand?’
He was staring at me. ‘Necklace?’ he said. ‘What necklace?’
Things went very quiet, and we were staring at each other in mutual incomprehension when Satrius walked out of the undergrowth to one side of the grotto. Without breaking stride, he pulled the guy towards him and stuck a knife three times in rapid succession into his chest.
The guy slumped, his wide-open eyes still fixed on me; I doubt if he’d even noticed Satrius coming until the last split second. Satrius stepped back, letting him slip to the ground. Then he bent, wiped his knife on the man’s tunic, and put it back in his belt.
‘You okay, Corvinus?’ he said.
I was still in shock. ‘Where the hell did you come from?’ I said.
‘Been here all the time. At least, as long as chummie here has.’ He poked at the corpse with his foot. ‘Boss’s orders.’
‘What? How did Eutacticus know that–’
‘Look, just save it, right? We can’t stick around, not with him’ – he kicked the corpse again – ‘lying there. Somebody might come along and notice, and we’d both be in schtook. Anyway, the b
oss will want to see you. Any questions, you can ask him personal.’
He was already heading off down the path, and I was on the point of following when the implications of what had just happened hit me.
Bathyllus.
‘Wait a minute!’ I said. ‘You stupid bastard, you were listening, so you must’ve heard! He told me if he wasn’t back by noon my chief slave would be dead. What the fuck did you have to kill him for?’
He stopped and turned. ‘Boss’s orders again, pal,’ he said. ‘It’s over and done, no problem. Don’t let it worry you.’
He carried on walking. I caught him up and pulled him round to face me. ‘The hell with that!’ I snapped.
He didn’t move, just looked down at my hand gripping his arm. I let go, quickly, and he shrugged.
‘Don’t talk,’ he said. ‘Just walk. It’s a long way to the Pincian, and the boss isn’t a patient man.’
I felt sick. Gods! What was I going to do now?
. . .
We got to Eutacticus’s place when the sun had barely an hour’s worth of distance to go to noon. Satrius took me straight up to the great man’s study.
He was sitting at his desk working through a pile of wax tablets and flimsies. Yeah, well, I supposed that even crooks had to keep on top of the paperwork these days.
He looked up as we came in and put down the pen he was holding.
‘Corvinus.’ He gave me a genial nod. ‘Everything go okay, Satrius?’
‘Yeah, boss. Easy as pie, all taken care of. No problems.’
‘That’s good. Give us a few minutes.’ Satrius left, closing the door behind him. ‘Sit down and relax, Corvinus. You’ve had an exciting morning.’
There was a stool next to me. I sat. I was shaking, and it wasn’t with fear this time. I was angry as hell.
‘You bastard!’ I said. ‘Your tame ape of a hit-man has just cost the life of my major-domo!’
‘Is that so, now?’ Eutacticus said quietly. He picked up the pen, made a note on the tablet in front of him, and set it down again. ‘I’m really sorry to hear that. But call me bastard again and you’ll leave this room on a stretcher.’ He smiled his hungry-crocodile smile. ‘As for your description of Satrius, well, it’s not too wide of the mark so I’ll let it pass. Although I wouldn’t use it to him if I were you.’
I took a deep breath and willed my fists to unclench. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘But the least you can do is answer a few questions. How did you know in advance about the rendezvous in the Asinian Gardens?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Come on, pal! Your...Satrius said he’d got to Nymphs’ Grotto ahead of me, ergo he didn’t follow me there, ergo he knew where I was going before I arrived. And he was there on your orders. Add all that up for yourself.’
‘He didn’t follow you. He followed the other man.’
‘Okay. So how was he able to do that? Follow him from where?’
‘From where he and his friend were holding your slave.’
‘What?’ I jumped to my feet. ‘You mean you knew where he was all the time and you left him there? You complete and utter–!’
‘Careful.’ Eutacticus hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even reacted. ‘You’ve been warned already. And I don’t give warnings twice. Now sit back down.’
I did, slowly. There wasn’t any point in losing my temper, quite the reverse; in fact, it might well be the biggest mistake of my life. And wherever they were keeping Bathyllus it’d be too late now to do anything about it.
Gods!
‘To finish answering your question, then,’ Eutacticus said mildly, as though nothing had happened. ‘Give me a bit of credit, I’m not an amateur like those bastards were. I told you I’d be looking for them, and when I look for someone I don’t mess around. With that pair I didn’t even have to break sweat. Although to be fair the starting point was a complete accident.’
‘Yeah? And how was that?’
‘Come on yourself, Corvinus! Use your brain! I’ve had men watching your house sunrise to sunrise ever since I knew you were hand-in-glove with that Damon character in case he turned up again. And seeing your major-domo was the fucker’s brother they had particular instructions to watch out for him and stick to him like glue if he set a foot outside.’
Hell! I should’ve thought of that possibility, sure I should. Maybe it was just as well that Damon hadn’t got back in touch, because Eutacticus wouldn’t’ve given him the benefit of the doubt and nailed him before he could reach me.
‘So when your Bathyllus goes out on his own yesterday morning,’ Eutacticus went on, ‘my lads naturally follow. Then they notice that they’re not the only ones interested in him, so they hang back to check what’s going on. Bathyllus gets lifted at the door of the Suburan tenement and taken inside, and they don’t interfere, because that’s not their remit, but they watch and wait until the three of them – Bathyllus and our two pals – come back out, then tag along behind and see where they end up. Which, by the way, isn’t far from the Gardens: the cellar of a wineshop outside the Latin Gate. They report back to me. In the meantime you’ve been round here yourself with your story about–’
There was a soft knock on the door. It opened, and Satrius put his head round.
‘Ready yet, boss?’ he said.
‘Just about done. It doesn’t matter, send him in anyway.’ Eutacticus gave me another of his basking-crocodile smiles.
The door opened fully. I goggled.
‘Bathyllus!’
‘Ah...yes, sir.’ The little guy was looking embarrassed as hell, and far grubbier and more dishevelled than I’d ever seen him, but he didn’t seem to be any worse for wear otherwise. At least he was alive with all his bits still attached, which was a miracle in itself. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble. Please believe me that it was not intentional.’
‘Bugger that, sunshine! No trouble at all!’ I turned back to Eutacticus, beaming. ‘You want a favour from me in future, any time, any thing, you’ve got it, pal, just ask. That is brilliant!’
‘Oh, I’ll be sure to do that, Corvinus, don’t you worry,’ he said. ‘I pay my debts, but I also collect when they’re owed. And now you owe me, never forget that because I won’t. Ever. Clear?’
‘Sure. No problem.’
‘Good. Just so long as that’s settled. Mind you, to be fair, it was the other bastard I wanted, the second of the two, the man who was holding him. Your house slave here was just an incidental.’
My interest sharpened. ‘You’ve got him here?’ I said.
He gave me a long, cold fish stare. Then, finally, he said, ‘What’s left of him, yes.’
Oh, shit. ‘He’s dead?’ Bugger! That was both of them. There went the shooting match again; I could’ve wept. ‘Why the hell kill him? You had him safe!’
Eutacticus just looked at me. He definitely wasn’t smiling now. ‘Corvinus, let’s get one thing straight, okay?’ he said. ‘Your interests and mine are two different things, and frankly I couldn’t give a toss for yours. All I’m interested in – all I’ve ever been interested in, right from the start – is getting my necklace back. Now, when I thought, thanks to you, that those two were after it as well I was happy to play along. Only in the course of the prolonged chat between me and the bastard who was looking after your slave here it turns out that they weren’t interested in the necklace at all. That they didn’t even know it existed. So what would you expect me to do? Pat him on the back and say, “My mistake, friend”?’
‘You could’ve let him go.’
Eutacticus chuckled; not a nice sound. ‘The hell I could! After all the trouble he’d put me to? Besides, believe me, the state he was in by the time we’d finished our talk killing him was a mercy.’
My guts went cold, and I noticed Bathyllus was looking pretty green as well. ‘What about the other one?’ I said. ‘The one Satrius killed. He have to die too?’
‘Sure he did, and with even more reason. I’d already got one of the pair under wraps
, or at least I would have by the time Satrius was done, so I didn’t need his pal. And when I gave Satrius his orders I still thought he was after the necklace, so I couldn’t have him running around free, could I? On the other hand, lifting him like he’d lifted your Bathyllus and bringing him back to the Pincian would just have been too damn tricky. The game wasn’t worth the candle. Don’t complicate things any more than you have to, that’s always been my rule, boy, and it’s the best there is.’
Yeah, all very logical, but the logic made me sick to my stomach. I wouldn’t be shedding any tears for that particular beauty, mind – I’d met him, after all, and if anyone deserved what he’d got it was him – but I was sorry, and felt slightly guilty, about the other one. Him I hadn’t met, sure, but from Lydia’s description of the conversation in the wineshop, or lack of one on his side, he struck me as a bit of an also-ran.
‘So if the pair of them weren’t after the necklace,’ I said, ‘then what were they after? Your, uh, house guest tell you that?’
There was a long silence. Eutacticus simply gave me his dead codfish stare and kept it going. I began to sweat again in earnest.
‘Listen, Corvinus,’ he said finally. ‘I’ve got a lot of time for you. You may not think it, but I have. You’re a clever bugger. Plus, anyone who can come to me off their own bat and tell me to my face in my own house that they think I’ve been suckered into a dodgy half million sesterce deal has guts, and I admire guts.’ Uh-huh; I just hoped he was being metaphorical here, although with Eutacticus you could never be sure. ‘Even when it turns out he’s been talking through his backside and put me to a lot of trouble for nothing.’ I winced. ‘So I’m going to give you a piece of advice, and if you’ve any sense you’ll take it. Go home, forget this whole thing. I’ll even throw in Damon for free: when I find him, and I will, if he has the necklace and gives it back to me the bugger’s off the hook, just like we agreed if he turned himself in to you first. You understand?’
Shit; what was going on here? This was Eutacticus, for Jupiter’s sake! ‘Ah, yeah, sure, I understand,’ I said. ‘But–’
Family Commitments (Marcus Corvinus Book 20) Page 11
