‘Very well.’ I noticed that her left hand had strayed to the curl of hair above her ear. Good sign; we might live through this after all. ‘You were going to say. Her younger brother...?’
‘Right. Turns out that he was Scribonianus’s aide in Dalmatia, the time of the abortive revolt. And that after Scribonianus killed himself he was executed for treason on Claudius’s orders. Only him, no one else.’
‘In Rome or Dalmatia?’
‘I didn’t ask, but from the way Secundus told it I’d imagine Dalmatia. Agents were sent out from Rome to see that he was chopped, and one of his officer pals brought the news home to Helena.’
‘Hmm.’ She pulled on the curl. ‘So your assumption is what?’
‘Perilla, I don’t know, okay? All I’ve got at present are unconnected facts.’ I sat down on the couch. ‘Two more for you. Gaius – that was the younger brother’s name – hero-worshipped Sextus, or that’s how I see it reading between the lines. And Sextus and his elder brother Gnaeus were pretty much at daggers drawn; certainly Gnaeus had no time for him, however it went the other way. That’s it, unless you want the theory.’
‘If you’ve got one, yes, we may as well have it.’
I hid a grin; offhand as hell, a sure sign that the lady was hooked and trying to pretend she wasn’t. We were home and dry. ‘I’d say Gaius posed a threat to Messalina in some way, had something in his possession that could harm her, maybe a document linking her to the revolt, and Messalina had him chopped. Only she was too late: he’d already sent the whatever-it-was to his brother Sextus.’
‘How could he know where Sextus was? And even allowing for the fact he wanted to send it to a family member, why him? Why not his elder brother? Or Helena, for that matter?’
‘Helena wouldn’t be an option; whatever the thing was, just having it in her possession would’ve been dangerous, and he was too fond of his sister to do that to her. Gnaeus... I’m guessing, sure, but from the way Secundus talked about him I’d say young Gaius simply didn’t trust him. Sextus, well, he’d always had an idealised view of Sextus. It’s not too illogical a choice. As far as knowing Sextus’s whereabouts goes, there’s no reason to suppose the two of them hadn’t kept in touch after the guy was kicked out. Secretly, granted, but that’d be natural, considering the rest of the family had washed their hands of him.’
‘All right. All very interesting and convincing. But you still have to drop the case.’
I shook my head. ‘I told you,’ I said. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘Marcus, please see sense! We’ve been all through this and you know that it isn’t a matter of choice. If you’re too pig-headed obstinate to–’
‘No. I told you that as well; it’s got nothing to do with me. Look. Rufus warned me that if I didn’t take my nose out of his and Messalina’s business he’d see me nailed, yes?’
‘Of course. That’s the whole point.’
‘So what happens when he finds out – and he will, because one gets you ten he has this place and me staked out round the clock – that a couple of days after I visit Secundus, who’s head of military admin, he and his wife, who Rufus knows damn well is Gaius Sentius’s sister, drop round for dinner? You think he’ll believe it was a coincidence? I wouldn’t, myself, not for one fucking minute, and that bastard is not in the business of making allowances.’
She was staring at me in horror. ‘Oh, Marcus!’
‘Right. It’s not just me who’s threatened, either. He can only assume that now Helena and Secundus are involved, or at least there’s a good chance that they’re aware of what’s going on. So how long do you think it’ll be before they’re chopped on a trumped-up charge as well?’
‘What can you do?’
‘The only thing I can do. Go for Rufus’s third option.’
‘What third option?’
Yeah, I hadn’t told her about that, had I, because it hadn’t seemed viable at the time. ‘I can play on his and Messalina’s side. Find Damon for them and hand him over. If I do that then we’re all square again.’
‘But, Marcus, you can’t! He’s Bathyllus’s brother! They’ll kill him!’
‘Why should they? They don’t want Damon, any more than they want me. They want whatever Damon has got, courtesy of his master, and as far as I’m concerned now they can have it.’
‘You don’t know where Damon is!’
‘I don’t, but Sempronius Eutacticus does.’
She shook her head. ‘Eutacticus won’t help. He told you so.’
‘Yeah, well, that was before, when I didn’t have the information he was trying to keep from me, that he’d accidentally beaten out of Ligurinus’s sidekick. That the two of them were working for the empress. He’s got no reason to cover up now. Besides, it was his man Satrius who knifed Ligurinus, and if I’m being threatened with a murder rap then he’s the root cause of it. Eutacticus may be a crook, but he works to his own code. I reckon that would weigh, certainly enough to justify a little arm-twisting.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Have another talk with Eutacticus, of course. See if he’ll act as middle-man between me and Rufus, try to broker a deal.’ I yawned; suddenly I felt dead beat. ‘Tomorrow. It’ll mean putting off the trip to Castrimoenium, sure, but hopefully not for too long. Or you could go ahead and I’ll catch you up.’
‘You really think I would do that?’
I grinned. ‘Yeah, well, maybe not.’ I stood up, went over and kissed her. ‘Bed?’
‘Bed.’
22
I went over to Eutacticus’s immediately after breakfast. He was in the back garden again, sitting on a bench beneath a cherry tree with an open book roll in his hands. When he saw me coming he set the roll down beside him, but not before I’d glimpsed its title-tag: The Girl from Halicarnassus.
Well, well: so he was a clandestine Alexandrian tunic-ripper reader, was he? I was learning a lot about Sempronius Eutacticus this time round.
‘Morning, pal,’ I said. ‘Sorry to disturb.’
He shifted the book so that the tag was hidden. ‘Corvinus, are you trying to get seriously up my nose or what?’ he snapped. ‘I told you the last time you were here that–’
‘Oplonius was a guy named Sextus Sentius.’ There was a wicker chair to one side of the bench. I pulled it towards me and sat. ‘His younger brother Gaius was aide to Arruntius Scribonianus, the Dalmatian governor who tried to stage a revolt three years ago. The brother sent Sextus something, maybe a letter, I don’t know exactly, but whatever it was Valeria Messalina and Suillius Rufus wanted it very badly. They used Rufus’s freedman Ligurinus and his pal Caprius to get it for them, but they screwed up. To cut a long story short, you put the heat on Caprius thinking he and his pal had something to do with your stolen necklace, only to find you’d accidentally bagged one of the empress’s agents who coughed up a lot of things – political things – that you really didn’t want to hear. Now tell me I’m wrong.’
That got me the cold fish-eyed stare.
‘So?’ he said.
‘Just making a point. The stable door’s wide open and the horse is long gone. I’m grateful that you tried to protect me by keeping me away from Damon, sure, but it isn’t appropriate any more. Quite the reverse.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, really. In fact, I need to see him asap.’
‘You mind telling me why?’
‘Because it might just save his life. And mine. Rufus is threatening to hit me with a murder rap for killing Ligurinus, that your boy Satrius zeroed in the Asinian Gardens.’
‘That’s your own fault, Corvinus. If you’d just let things be when I advised you to you wouldn’t be in this mess. And if you remember I offered to take care of that witness for you before he could cause any trouble.’
‘Yeah, well, slitting the throat of a garden slave just because he’s been good enough to point a stranger in the right direction is just a tad over the top, for my money.’
Eutactic
us grunted. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I can’t see the problem myself, but it was your decision to make. So. You want to know where Damon is holed up?’
I hesitated. ‘Actually, I was hoping for bit more than that.’
‘Were you, indeed?’
‘Yeah.’ Here we went. ‘Matters have sort of suddenly reached a crisis. Through no fault of mine, at least not a deliberate one. What I need to do is get whatever Gaius Sentius sent to his brother and do a trade-off with Rufus, pretty damn quick. Only I could, like, really use a middle-man to broker the deal and see fair play on both sides.’
‘And you think I’ll do that for you?’
‘Uh...yeah. Yeah, more or less. Or I was hoping you would.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Come on, Eutacticus! It’s no skin off your nose, and if things go pear-shaped I’m cooked.’
‘My heart bleeds.’
‘You want me to beg?’
The cold-fish look again. I began to sweat.
Finally, he said, ‘Okay, Corvinus, you’ve got it, just this once. If I let you get chopped I’d probably regret it afterwards.’ I sagged in relief, and his lips twisted in a half-smile. ‘That’s probably, note, so don’t pat yourself on the back too hard. But don’t forget, you owe me again. Seriously.’ He stood up. ‘Okay. Follow me and we’ll get you set up somewhere.’
‘What about Damon? I’ll need to find him first.’
‘Use your brain, boy. If your friends have any sense they’ll’ve been watching you. You lead them to Damon, or Damon comes to you at home, and you’re both in the bag before you can say knife. You’re my guest for the duration. I’ll get my lads to pick the slave up and bring him here.’
‘So what’s to stop your boys being jumped on too?’ I said. That just got me a long, uncomprehending stare. Yeah; right. Well, I supposed Rufus and co would be welcome to try it, but unless they had a squad of Praetorians on call I doubted if they’d get very far.
Eutacticus set out for the house. ‘You want me to send someone back to your place?’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Tell them where you are and not to worry?’
‘Yeah, that’d be great.’ Mind you, if the skivvy was anyone of the size, shape and physiognomy of Satrius I couldn’t see the reassurance working to any degree. Still, I appreciated the thought. Consideration, now, no less. Maybe the bastard was mellowing. ‘How long do you think it’ll take?’
‘To get Damon? No more than an hour, maybe two. He’s been working as a trampler in a fuller’s shop off Cyprian Street. Where the rest of the business is concerned you tell me.’
So Damon had stuck with the Subura after all. Mind you, he’d be as safe there as anywhere: the Subura is a rabbit warren, particularly where the alleyways off the main streets are concerned, and the locals pride themselves in minding their own business. But a fuller’s trampler! That didn’t augur well. I just hoped that if I was to be in Damon’s company for all that long wherever Eutacticus was putting me up was well ventilated. Not that I had very high hopes in that direction, mind: given the sadistic bastard’s twisted sense of humour I might well be spending my next few hours in a broom cupboard. Sharing it with the brooms, what’s more. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I’d no illusions about my status, or lack of it, at present.
‘You know how to get in touch with Rufus?’ I said as we cleared the peristyle and entered the house itself.
‘Don’t teach your granny to suck eggs, Corvinus.’ There was a slave waiting inside. Eutacticus snapped his fingers at him and he obediently fell into line behind us.
Yeah, well, that was me told. I clamped my lips together firmly.
We threaded the labyrinth in silence. Finally, Eutacticus turned down a corridor leading to a closed oak-panelled door. He opened it.
‘That’s you for the duration,’ he said. ‘Be grateful.’
I almost whistled. Forget the broom cupboard, despite the guy’s surly manner he’d done me proud: the place was clearly one of the upmarket guest suites, with its own pooled atrium complete with assorted bronze statuary, a couple of seriously pricey murals on the walls, and a private courtyard garden from which drifted the tinkling sound of water from an ornamental fountain.
Crime obviously didn’t just pay in Eutacticus’s case; it factored in a whacking great entertainment allowance as well.
‘You’ll be fine here,’ he said. ‘Bedroom’s next door’ – nodding towards an opening to one side – ‘if things take longer than expected. You hungry?’
‘Uh-uh. Some wine would be good, though.’
‘No problem. Flavillus here’ll look after you.’ He turned to the slave and raised an eyebrow. The man scuttled off. ‘Now, I’ve a business to run and you’re an extra complication that I could do without. I’ll see you later.’
He made to go.
‘Hang on, pal,’ I said. ‘What happens now? I just sit here and twiddle my thumbs, do I?’
He paused, then turned back. Slowly. He wasn’t smiling.
‘Look, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Let’s get this clear. You ask for my help, you play things my way, completely. No arguments, no back-chat, no clever repartee. When I’ve fixed things up I’ll come and tell you. In the meantime, your part of the deal is to possess yourself with fucking patience. Just that, full stop, end of story. Understand?’
‘Uh...yeah.’ Jupiter! ‘Yeah, right. Got it.’
‘Good. Pleasure to have you. Enjoy your stay.’
He left.
The wine came – top of the range Massic, in a silver jug, so I couldn’t complain – and I settled down on the couch to wait. I took it easy, though: if dickering with Rufus in the near future was on the cards then I’d need to keep a clear head.
I was looking forward to seeing Damon again, mind. That slippery bastard had questions to answer.
He turned up, accompanied by the slave Flavillus, an hour or so later, edging into the room eyes fixed on me like it was the arena on a games day and I was one of the cats.
‘Morning, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘You all right, are you?’
‘Yeah, well, all right is a sort of relative term, isn’t it, pal?’ I said. ‘Finding that through no fault of your own you’re up to your neck in the political shit isn’t exactly conducive to a feeling of general well-being.’ I nodded to Flavillus. ‘That’s okay, sunshine. I can take things from here.’
The slave didn’t move. A big lad, Flavillus. Solid.
‘The boss told me I should stay and keep an eye on him, sir,’ he said. ‘In case he tries for another runner.’
Given where we were the bugger’s chances of making a dash for freedom and the outside world were comfortably within flying pigs territory; besides, where would he go? Still, it wasn’t my shout, and if Eutacticus wanted to play things careful then that was his privilege.
‘Fair enough,’ I said; at which point I got a noseful of the guy’s recently-adopted professional environment. Talk about bringing your work home with you. ‘You mind if we move outside, though?’
‘Not a problem, sir. There’s a bench, and’ – he glanced at Damon and sniffed – ‘I can bring out one of the stools.’
‘Perfect.’ I got up. ‘Right, Damon, let’s finish our interrupted chat, shall we? And we’ll have the truth this time around.’
He shrugged. ‘Suits me.’
Well, I doubted that very much, but there again he didn’t have the option any more. And whatever else he might be, Bathyllus’s wayward brother was your archetypal pragmatist. If there had been even the slightest chance of his getting himself off the hook he’d’ve wriggled like hell, but both he and I knew that this time he was well and truly gaffed.
We trooped outside into the courtyard garden, Flavillus leading the way with the stool. The garden wasn’t big – no more than twenty feet or so either side – but the fountain was more of a water feature let into the far wall, so there was plenty of clear breathing space. I settled onto the promised bench beneath an ornamental pear tree. Flavillus put the
stool down for Damon to sit on, leaving a decent distance between us, and stood with his back against one of the portico pillars, arms folded.
‘Okay, pal,’ I said to Damon. ‘Here’s how we do this. Just to save any more faffing around I tell you what I know, or think I know, and you take it from there. If at any point I go off beam you bring me back. And don’t even think about lying or covering up this time round, because if you do I’ll hand you over to Rufus myself before you can say “porky” and whistle while he guts you. Agreed?’
He swallowed; the name had registered, and knowing I knew it had hit him hard, as I meant that it should.
‘Fair enough,’ he said.
‘So. Your master was really Sextus Sentius, who was disinherited by his father twenty-odd years back. He took you with him, he became Gaius Oplonius, and the two of you set up a nice little racket as itinerant con men.’
‘Forget the “nice”, Corvinus. We made ends meet, sure, most of the time, just about, but that was as far as it went. And the old bastard, my master’s father, hadn’t left him much of an option.’
‘You are breaking my heart, friend; a crook is a crook, and Sentius was as bent as they come, probably since he cut his first tooth, from what his sister tells me. Anyway, that side of things isn’t relevant. What is, is that a month or so ago – call it that, for the sake of argument – he gets a surprise visit from a pal of his younger brother’s, who until he was chopped for treason three years back was aide to Arruntius Scribonianus, the Dalmatian governor. Why the delay, incidentally? You know, yourself?’
‘No mystery there. It took the guy that time to track us down. Oh, the master had kept in touch with Gaius, off and on, and he’d told him about the name change, but we didn’t have what you might call a permanent address. For obvious reasons. The master was just lucky that young Ventidius – that was the friend’s name – was such a persistent bugger. If lucky’s the right word.’ He winked. ‘Mind you, reading between the lines, the two of them, him and Gaius, had been pretty close, if you catch my meaning, so maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.’
Family Commitments (Marcus Corvinus Book 20) Page 21
