Illegally Dead (Marcus Corvinus Book 12)

by David Wishart

  There was something odd there, but I left it alone for the moment. We’d come back later. ‘So where were you?’ I said. ‘In your room?’

  ‘No. In the garden. He didn’t see me, at least I don’t think he did, because I was sitting in the little arbour by the rose-bed. You can see out from there, but it’s difficult to see in.’

  The garden? An hour after dawn? Odd was right. Still, we’d better sort out the most important point first. ‘Paulina,’ I said carefully. ‘If you saw Cosmus leaving your uncle’s rooms and you know - at least now - that he was the killer, then where do you come into things?’

  She looked at me wide-eyed. ‘Because I was responsible, of course. My uncle wouldn’t have died at all if it hadn’t been for...well, the way he treated me.’

  Yeah; I could imagine life hadn’t been too pleasant for the kid. After all, if Veturina had been going through hell these last twelve months for no reason then Paulina had probably been doing the same. Even so, for her to suggest that as Cosmus’s motive for murder was complete nonsense. From all I’d heard of him he didn’t exactly seem the altruistic type; certainly not to the extent of risking his own neck by bumping off his master as a favour to Paulina.

  ‘Uh...you sure about that?’ I said gently. ‘I mean, that that was Cosmus’s only reason?’

  She was scowling. ‘You’re down on him like everyone else, Valerius Corvinus, and you never even met him!’ she said. ‘Do you think that’s fair?’

  I caught Tyche’s eye. Her lips were set in a tight line and she nodded imperceptibly. Yeah, well: whatever the mistress’s opinion of Cosmus was, her maid certainly didn’t share it. I remembered what Scopas had said, about Cosmus being able to use his charm to get round the youngest members of the family, especially Paulina. Now that I’d seen her for myself, that made complete sense; it certainly explained her view of the boy and the large slice of wishful thinking involved where his motives were concerned. No surprises there, quite the reverse: he’d been good-looking, about her own age, attentive and probably good fun, and even if he was a slave that combination would’ve weighed a lot with someone like her. She’d never have let things go beyond mild flirting, sure, or if she had done then she was a bigger fool than I thought she was, but I’d bet she hadn’t had much experience even of that. Yeah, I could see how Paulina would easily get starry-eyed over Cosmus.

  ‘Maybe it isn’t fair, at that.’ I temporised. ‘And if your uncle was being cruel -’

  ‘I never said he was being cruel.’

  Said very quietly. The head was down again, and Tyche was looking at her hard, with pursed lips.

  Uh-oh.

  I let a few seconds go by. Then I said gently: ‘You want to tell me, Paulina?’

  ‘No. But I will.’ Her chin came up. ‘It...never got beyond touching, and that was when Aunt Veturina found out and put a stop to it. Besides, I kept my bedroom door locked so even if he tried to get in he couldn’t.’

  ‘That’s why you’d been getting up so early, isn’t it?’ I kept the conversational tone. ‘Because he did try.’

  ‘Sometimes, yes. First thing in the morning. Most mornings, by that stage.’ She frowned. ‘Valerius Corvinus, my uncle was a good man! He was! Before he was ill he’d never, ever have done anything like that, he’d have died first, believe me!’ There were tears in her eyes. ‘And now he is dead, and I’m glad. And that’s terrible.’

  Gods!

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ I said quietly. ‘It’s not terrible at all. And maybe it’s for the best, that part of it. Whoever killed him, and whatever their motives were.’

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I’m hoping. That they did it for the best of motives.’

  There was something in her voice that made the hairs rise on the back of my neck. Besides, that wasn’t exactly what I’d said. In fact -

  The penny dropped. Oh, shit!

  ‘You think your aunt killed your uncle, don’t you?’ I said.

  ‘Cosmus killed him.’ She wasn’t looking at me. ‘And I was responsible.’

  We needed to take this slowly. I drew a deep breath. ‘Look, Paulina,’ I said. ‘You may’ve liked Cosmus - he may’ve liked you - but you have to admit he wasn’t the greatest brain in the world. He’d never have thought of doctoring that medicine bottle on his own, however much he wanted to help you. And if you didn’t give him the idea then somebody else must have.’

  ‘I was responsible. My uncle wouldn’t have died if –’

  ‘No. Listen. You didn’t know, that morning when you ran, that your uncle had been murdered, did you? No one knew, except Cosmus and whoever told him to do what he did, and that wasn’t you, was it?’ She shook her head. ‘Fine.Your uncle was dead, sure, but to all intents and purposes his death was natural. So why did you run? You must’ve had some reason.’ Silence. Bugger! ‘Paulina, I’m sorry, but you really have to tell me.’ Silence: she’d dropped her eyes again and she was staring at her hands. ‘Something’d changed, hadn’t it? Something important, so important that when your uncle died right after it happened you linked the two events and you panicked. Maybe it was something you heard, or saw, the evening before when your uncle and aunt –’

  ‘Stop it!’ Her head came up. She was glaring at me. Over by the door, Tyche shifted on her stool, but she didn’t say anything.

  ‘All right,’ I said. I leaned back, away from her, and waited.

  Paulina’s gaze didn’t shift. ‘My uncle accused Aunt Veturina of sleeping with Uncle Castor,’ she snapped. ‘He said that as far as he was concerned she was nothing but an incestuous whore, that he wanted her out of his house and that he’d see to the formal divorce and prosecution as soon as they could be arranged. Is that what you want to know?’

  Sweet gods!

  ‘Yeah,’ I said softly. ‘Yeah, that’s it. Thank you, Paulina.’

  Well, that explained things. Scopas had known, of course, he had to have, and when I’d grilled the poor bastard he couldn’t just give me nothing, because he knew I knew there’d been a shouting match; so he’d twisted the truth as far as he dared, given me a sanitised version. For Castor’s adultery with Seia Lucinda read incest with his sister, Veturina under threat of divorce because of it and the two of them, not just Castor alone, out in the street. Still, I didn’t blame the guy for lying, no way: he’d only been protecting his mistress as best he could, for the best of reasons; and, in a way, protecting his master as well. If it’d been me instead of Hostilius, I’d hope that Bathyllus would have the nous to do the same.

  Paulina had burst into tears, and Tyche shot over like she was greased. The girl pushed her away and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her tunic. She was still glaring at me. ‘If Aunt Veturina did kill him the next morning, Valerius Corvinus,’ she said, ‘or have him killed, then she had every reason to, and my uncle - my real uncle - would’ve blessed her for it.’ I closed my eyes, briefly. ‘But she wouldn’t have done, not just for herself, I know she wouldn’t. She did it for me. If you’d been me what would you have done, when my uncle died? I couldn’t stay and face her, every day, not saying anything; not knowing what I knew. I had to leave. I had to.’

  ‘Right. Right.’ Shit, what a mess!

  ‘Are you going to tell her? Where I am?’

  I’d been asking myself the same question. Legally, the answer had to be yes: the girl was Veturina’s ward, and no one had formally accused Veturina of any crime. Even so, there were good reasons why I shouldn’t, not the least being that the lady herself had tried to cover up the fact that the girl was missing.

  ‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ I said. ‘But I’ll have to tell Libanius. Have you got any other relatives anywhere?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Not close ones, anyway. That was why Uncle Lucius and Aunt Veturina took me in.’

  ‘Maybe Libanius can arrange something, then.’ I stood up; I felt sick to my stomach. ‘We’ll leave it to him.’

  ‘All right.’ Paulina lowered her eyes. ‘Thank yo
u for coming, Valerius Corvinus. I’m glad I talked to you. And...if you do see my aunt, and it’s possible, could you say thank you to her as well, from me? Don’t say why, just say I said it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah, I’ll do that.’

  I left.

  ‘Veturina killed him, or got her brother to,’ I said to Perilla when I finally got home a couple of hours later after a long talk with Libanius. ‘And the gods know I don’t blame her for it. Him, either.’

  ‘You’re absolutely sure?’ Perilla was looking grave. We were sitting on the terrace with a pre-dinner drink. I hadn’t told her about Meton yet: there was no point in worrying the lady unduly, and anyway I hadn’t decided how to handle that particular problem.

  ‘Yeah.’ I put my head back and closed my eyes. ‘What Paulina said clinches it. The situation had just got impossible, and all three of the family members were involved. If Hostilius had lived another day, Veturina would’ve been divorced and out of the house, she and Castor would’ve been formally accused of incest, and unless Paulina went with her aunt she’d’ve been left alone with her uncle and raped within the month. Veturina’d have to be less than a step down from one of the Graces not to kill him.’

  ‘What about Cosmus?’

  I opened my eyes and shrugged. ‘Under the circumstances, lady, he’s a detail, and if it was Castor set things up then he’s explicable. Not excusable, but explicable.’

  She was quiet for a long time. Then she said: ‘What happens now?’

  ‘That’s up to Libanius. I’ve made my report, and he can arrange for Veturina to be prosecuted, with or without her brother, or he can just let the whole business drop. Me, I’d say that’d be by far the best course for all concerned, Hostilius included. Veturina might go through a hard time with the locals, sure, but she can always sell up and move if things get too bad; the same goes for Castor. Case over, close the book.’ I slammed my winecup down. ‘Fuck!’

  ‘Gently, Marcus!’

  ‘Yeah, well.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is how it was allowed to get this far. The man was clearly certifiable, he wasn’t responsible for his actions. Under any reasonable circumstances he would have been locked up months ago.’

  ‘That would’ve needed the impetus to come from his next of kin,’ I said. ‘Veturina herself. And it would’ve been an admission that the situation was hopeless. Where would you have drawn the line yourself, Perilla, if it’d been you that had to decide?’ She didn’t answer. ‘Besides, when push came to absolute shove she made the kindest decision. Oh, Hostilius would’ve brought the charges, of adultery and incest, like he threatened, I don’t doubt that; but no judge in the country who knew the background would’ve given them a moment’s credence. She was safe enough there. Only –’

  ‘Only she’d have to defend herself on the grounds that her husband was insane, with the inevitable result. Then watch him getting worse, more unlike himself, day after day until he died in any case. Hating her for what she’d done.’ Perilla shivered. ‘The poor woman. The poor man. You’re right, Marcus, it was the kindest decision she could make.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I took a morose swig of my wine.

  ‘What about the rest of it? The dead woman up in Caba and the will? Are you dropping those too?’

  I shook my head. ‘Uh-uh, or not unless Libanius objects. They may not be pieces of the same puzzle, lady, but they’re puzzles that need solving in themselves. Besides, Alexis has been beavering away in the public records office over in Bovillae for the last two days trying to fit a name to the man who attacked Hostilius. If I pulled the plug on him now the guy’d never forgive me. Clarus and Marilla wouldn’t be too happy about it either.’ I grinned. ‘Which reminds me. You want the good news or the bad? Nothing to do with wills or murders. I’d recommend the good, because the bad is pretty horrific, but it’s your choice.’

  ‘All right then.’ I told her about my short conversation with Hyperion, and she beamed. ‘Oh, that is excellent! Aunt Marcia will be so pleased!’

  Yeah; that was partly why I’d hurried things. Marcia had been taken bad the day after we’d arrived, and although Hyperion had said it was nothing really serious, so long as she kept to her bed for a few days, it was a sign of things to come.

  ‘I’m quite pleased myself,’ I said. ‘Clarus is a nice guy.’

  ‘When did he ask you?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Permission to marry Marilla, of course.’

  ‘Ah...’

  Perilla stared at me open mouthed. ‘You mean he hasn’t? Not at all?’ She started to laugh. ‘For Juno’s sake, Marcus, you can’t just assume that –!’

  ‘It’ll be okay, lady. Trust me.’

  ‘Oh, I do. I do. It’s only that I sort of imagined that the original idea might come from Clarus and Marilla themselves, that’s all.’

  ‘Yeah, well...’

  ‘So what was the bad news?’

  ‘Meton’s having an affair with a married woman.’

  Pause. ‘I’m sorry, dear? Say that again?’

  ‘Meton’s having an affair with a married woman.’

  ‘He’s what?’ Perilla doesn’t do gobsmacked, normally. On this occasion she did, in spades.

  ‘Yeah. Her name’s Renia, she’s married to a locksmith, and she is hot.’

  ‘Marcus, this is dreadful! You’re absolutely sure?’

  ‘I saw them myself.’

  ‘Oh, bugger!’

  ‘Ah...Perilla..?’

  She ignored me. ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘We could ground him after all and take the consequences. I mean, we’re not here forever. Once we go back to Rome –’

  ‘It won’t make a blind bit of difference, in fact it’ll make things worse. He’ll sulk for months. He might even break into the cooking wine.’

  I shuddered. The last time Meton had hit the booze it’d taken Decimus Lippillus of the City Watch and an incendiary device to get him out of the kitchen. I wasn’t going through that again. ‘All right. Suggestions.’

  She was drumming her fingers on the table and frowning. ‘What about the woman?’ she said.

  ‘What about the woman?’

  ‘We could talk to her. Get her to end the affair on her side. After all, she is married, and for a freeborn woman to have relations with a slave is an offence.’

  I grinned. ‘Blackmail, lady?’

  She sniffed. ‘In the best of possible causes.’

  ‘Right. Right.’

  ‘Do you know where she lives?’

  ‘No, but it’d be easy enough for Alexis to follow Meton next time he jumps the wall and –’ I stopped. ‘Bugger. He’s in Bovillae, isn’t he?’

  ‘What about Bathyllus?’

  ‘Be serious, Perilla.’

  ‘Yes, well, perhaps not. And not Lysias, either, he’d be worse than useless. One of the other slaves, then. Aunt Marcia’s.’

  ‘Lady, most of them can practically remember the celebrations after Actium. They couldn’t follow a fucking snail without sitting down for a rest every five minutes. And I wouldn’t trust any of the others to do the job because they haven’t got brains enough amongst them to fill a saltspoon.’

  ‘In that case –’

  ‘Hi, Corvinus. Perilla. Did you have a nice day?’

  I turned round. Marilla was coming up the terrace steps, accompanied by the slavering Placida. ‘Oh, hi, Princess.’

  ‘Clarus says he might have some information tomorrow for you on the dead woman. I left him having a look at her.’

  ‘Uh...right. Right.’

  ‘What’s for dinner?’

  ‘Veal with a caraway sauce and green beans in coriander.’ Perilla was smiling. ‘Or so Bathyllus reports. Marcus?’

  ‘What? Oh. Oh, yeah.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I, uh, was wondering if you and Clarus would consider getting engaged.’

  ‘Yes. Hyperion said. Of course we would.’

  ‘Ah...fine.’ I glanced at Perilla. ‘That’s
settled, then.’

  ‘Clarus says the stains on the back of her tunic are especially interesting –’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘– but I won’t spoil it for him.’

  ‘Good. Uh...Princess?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ve got a job for you.’

  21

  I rode over to Bovillae the next morning; largely to see how Alexis was getting on, but also to pick up a few loose strands. Such as Publius Novius, for example. That guy’s name was cropping up far too often for comfort, and besides I wanted to see him and judge him for myself.

  Bovillae’s a lot bigger than Castrimoenium - most places are - but it isn’t the hub of the universe, not even close. The records office was in the main square, with a statue of the Divine Augustus outside, arm raised and pointing commandingly in the direction of the public latrine across the way, his noble laurel-wreathed forehead striped with the recent offering of an irreverent pigeon. I parked the mare at the horse-trough and went inside.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The clerk behind the counter looked up. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I think you’ve got one of my slaves here. Guy called Alexis? He’s looking for –’

  ‘Oh, yes. You must be Valerius Corvinus. Yes, he’s here. You’ll find him rather dusty, I’m afraid, but that’s only to be expected under the circumstances.’ He lifted the counter’s wooden flap. ‘Come in and I’ll take you to him.’

  ‘How’s he getting on?’ I said as he led me down a gloomy corridor into the heart of the building. ‘Any luck yet, do you know?’

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him that yourself, sir. We don’t have much call to dig into thirty-year-old trials as a rule, and I’ve had to leave him completely to his own devices. Which I was happy to do, with Quintus Libanius’s authorisation.’ He stopped at a door, opened it and stepped back to let me through. ‘Here we are. Dead records.’

  The room was long and narrow, and it had pigeon-holes all round the walls, all of them full. It was a sunny day outside, but the only light here came in dust-mote-clouded shafts from latticed clerestory windows high above us. Alexis was perched on a stepladder half way along. He looked round and down as we came in...