Finished Business

by David Wishart

  Shit; the gloves were off here and no mistake!

  ‘Are you?’ I said.

  Asiaticus laughed. ‘Oh, now, Corvinus!’ he said. ‘You know Caesar doesn’t believe that! It’s been thoroughly gone into by better men than you, and the possibility has been dismissed for the nonsense it is. You’re not thinking of accusing us to him again yourself, are you? Because trust me, that would be very, very silly.’

  ‘Yeah, I know that, pal,’ I said equably. ‘The thought never entered my head.’

  The smile slipped a bit. ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘I told you that the last time I saw you. Or at least I told Cassius Longinus in your hearing. I’m investigating the death of Naevius Surdinus. At his niece’s request. She wasn’t satisfied – and quite rightly so – that the job was properly finished. I’m finishing it now, that’s all.’

  I’d fazed him, which was all to the good. Always nice to see one of those cocksure bastards have to go in for a bit of drastic retrenching.

  ‘What have I to do with Surdinus?’ he said. ‘I hardly knew the man.’

  ‘But I said,’ I was bland, ‘I came to talk to the tribune here. I didn’t even know you’d be visiting. Still, now you mention it, I think you had some connection with him, at least. Maybe quite a lot.’

  ‘Such as what?’

  ‘The day after I called in at your pal Longinus’s, somebody arranged for me to be attacked. For reasons that we won’t go into, it must’ve been one of the four of you, and for more reasons ditto it had to be you.’

  ‘That’s complete nonsense!’ But his eyelids had flickered. ‘I told you, beyond a nodding acquaintance I had no connection with Naevius Surdinus whatsoever. Why the hell would I want to kill him?’

  ‘Because I think he … posed a danger.’

  ‘Oh? What sort of danger?’

  Shit; I was sweating here myself, now. The answer, of course – if the theory held, precise whys and wherefores aside – was to the members of the inner conspiracy, of which, if he’d been the guy behind Surdinus’s death, ipso facto Asiaticus was one, if not the actual guiding force. Exactly the area I was pussy-footing around. From the smug way the guy was looking at me, he knew it too. This was a challenge.

  Like he’d said, I didn’t have enough in the bank for a direct accusation. I folded.

  ‘I’m not completely sure of that yet,’ I said.

  ‘Fine. Fine.’ He was smiling again. ‘Well, you just keep it that way, will you, Corvinus? It might be safer.’

  ‘Incidentally,’ I said, ‘where’s Anicius Cerialis at present?’

  The smile faltered. ‘What?’

  ‘Mind your own fucking business,’ Papinius ground out. Silent or not up to now, he hadn’t taken his eyes off me throughout the whole conversation.

  I turned to him. ‘It was an innocent-enough question, pal,’ I said mildly. ‘This is his house, after all.’

  ‘He’s in Capua,’ Asiaticus said. ‘Negotiating the sale of some property he owns there. Why do you ask?’

  I shrugged. ‘Just curious,’ I said. ‘It just struck me that he wouldn’t be exactly flavour of the month here, that’s all.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t he be?’

  ‘Well, you know best about that. But me, if I’d found out that he was responsible for blowing the whistle on some of my friends, even though they were … misguided’ – I chose the word carefully – ‘then I’d be pretty miffed with him. Particularly if they’d ended up tortured to death. I’m thinking primarily of Julius Graecinus. He was a good mate of yours, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he was,’ Asiaticus said stiffly. ‘But, as you say, he was misguided enough to conspire against the emperor. I’m afraid he deserved all he got. And I certainly don’t hold Cerialis’s loyalty against him.’

  I glanced at Papinius. He was clenching and unclenching his fists. Yeah, well, pal, I thought, if you don’t then someone else does, in spades. I remembered the last time I’d been in this room, with Papinius’s brother lying dead on the couch and Papinius himself getting stewed and gritting his teeth while he went through the motions of covering up for the guy’s murderers. That’d been an instance of loyalty as well, although in the elder Papinius’s case it’d been a conflict of loyalties. Which was why I’d come here in the first place. If it hadn’t been for the accident of Asiaticus being here, I might’ve had a chance of turning him. As it was, he’d clearly been told to keep his mouth firmly closed and toe the party line.

  Ah, well. You win some, you lose some. And there might be another opportunity later.

  ‘While we’re on the subject of your mates,’ I said easily, ‘I was at a dinner party yesterday evening with a couple more of them. At the palace. We sat together, as it happens.’

  ‘Really. How splendid for you.’

  ‘Yeah. Tiberius Claudius and Annius Vinicianus.’

  Was that another flicker? ‘Claudius, I know very well,’ he said. ‘We’ve been close friends for years, and of course I owe what political career I once had to the good graces of his mother, the Lady Antonia. But Vinicianus … no, you’ve misunderstood, Corvinus. I certainly know the gentleman, and we’ve sat together at dinner parties at the palace ourselves, but I wouldn’t count him a positive friend. Only an acquaintance.’

  ‘Uh-huh. These, uh, dinners at the palace. Your wife’d be there, wouldn’t she? The emperor’s erstwhile sister-in-law?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ He’d coloured slightly. ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Not a lot. I’d just heard that the emperor was sweet on her for a while, that’s all.’

  I thought Asiaticus was going to hit me. Even Papinius looked startled.

  ‘My marital circumstances, Corvinus,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘are no bloody concern of yours. Now if your only remaining business is to waste everyone’s time by making snide remarks, I’d suggest that you leave.’

  I glanced at Papinius, but he was still obviously obeying instructions and keeping out of things. Well, under the circumstances there wasn’t much more I could do in any case.

  ‘Fine, pal,’ I said. ‘We didn’t get round to the subject of Arrecinus Clemens, mind. Your boss, Papinius, the joint Prefect of Praetorians. Not that it matters much, I’ve got enough to be going on with at present.’ Both of them were staring at me now. Papinius’s mouth was slightly open. ‘Me, I’d like to see this thing wrapped up by the start of the Palatine Games, but we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed, right?’

  ‘What did you say?’ Asiaticus whispered. His face had gone grey.

  I gave him a sunny smile. ‘Just some nonsense of Naevia Postuma’s,’ I said. ‘You know she talks to Alexander? The Alexander, I mean. Well, seemingly she – or he, rather – thinks it’s some sort of key date. Nonsense, like I say, but I’d rather keep the old girl happy.’ I turned. ‘Well, thanks for all your help, gentlemen. It’s been most … illuminating.’

  I left. I could feel their eyes boring into my back all the way to the front door. Cages duly rattled, with a vengeance.

  I just hoped I hadn’t shaken the bars too hard, that was all.

  ‘Marcus, you absolute fool!’ Perilla snapped when I told her how the interview had gone. ‘You’ve put yourself in terrible danger!’

  ‘Yeah, well, maybe I did get a bit carried away, but—’

  ‘Don’t you realize? If you’re right, which you probably are, those men are on the verge of staging a coup d’état. They can’t take risks, and they are not going to balk at killing anyone they even suspect might prevent them succeeding!’ She was sitting up on her couch and glaring at me. ‘You bloody, bloody idiot!’

  ‘Perilla, look, there’re only seven days to go to the Games. If that’s when it’s going to happen—’

  ‘You cannot help the emperor by getting yourself killed. And frankly I can’t see why you should even risk it. You admit he’s a monster, or rapidly becoming one, and that Rome would be better off without him.’

 
‘True, but—’

  ‘Holy Mother Juno, you don’t even like the man! You haven’t even got that excuse!’

  I sighed. ‘Perilla, we’ve been through this already. I told you: liking or whatever has nothing to do with it. Murder is murder, and treason’s treason. Gaius is the emperor, and he’s a human being.’ I held my hand up as she opened her mouth. ‘OK. The jury’s out on that last one, I admit, but still. I can’t just sit back twiddling my thumbs and let it happen. Not when there’s a chance I can stop it.’

  ‘Very well. Take your chances. Go to him and tell him what you know. At least then it’ll be out of your hands, and it may well save your life.’

  ‘Don’t be melodramatic.’

  ‘I am not being melodramatic, Marcus! I’m being … bloody … realistic!’

  Jupiter! I took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly.

  ‘I can’t do that,’ I said. ‘I keep telling you, I don’t actually know anything. Not for absolute sure. That’s the problem.’

  ‘Very well. Tell him what you think you know. It’s better than nothing, and as you say you’re running out of time.’

  Fair point. More than fair: I couldn’t spend the next seven days faffing around in the hope that something would magically pop up, only to have Gaius murdered at the end of them. I sighed again.

  ‘Yeah. Maybe you’re right,’ I said. ‘I’ll go round to the palace first thing tomorrow morning. You happy now?’

  She sniffed. ‘Not especially. In fact, not at all, really, but I suppose it’s the best I can expect under the circumstances. So. What have we got? What’s the theory, at least?’

  ‘That there’s a conspiracy to assassinate Gaius during the Palatine Games. That the earlier conspiracy was a blind, constructed by the conspirators to distract Gaius’s and his man Felix’s attention from the real one a couple of months later and have them drop their guard. That …’ I stopped. ‘Shit!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘They’d need an agent provocateur. Someone party to the real conspiracy but involved – on the surface of things, anyway – with the fake one. And someone who, when the time came, would blow the whistle to Gaius and have the whole boiling rolled up.’

  ‘Valerius Asiaticus. Yes, we know.’

  ‘Uh-uh.’ I shook my head. ‘Not him. Oh, sure, he’s involved in the real conspiracy up to his neck, no arguments. But if he had been the whistle-blower, either Felix or Gaius himself would’ve told me in so many words. Besides, Gaius obviously despises the man.’

  ‘Very well, then. Who?’

  ‘Anicius Cerialis.’

  ‘What? Marcus, that is just silly! Cerialis was an agent provocateur, certainly, but he was working for …’ She stopped, and her eyes widened as her brain caught up. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Right. It had to be him. He was playing it three ways. The dupes in the first conspiracy – Graecinus and so on – thought he was with them right up until he sold them down the river to Gaius, which was how Gaius – or Felix, anyway – thought he’d arranged things. Only Cerialis wasn’t working for Gaius either; he was working for his pals in the real conspiracy, or acting on their instructions, anyway. My bet is that that’s why Surdinus died. Whether or not he was one of the dupes I don’t know; he may’ve been, because like a lot of them he was a starry-eyed idealist at heart. In any case, he found out somehow – or suspected, at least – that Cerialis was playing it two ways. Knowing he was working for Gaius would’ve been bad enough, but my guess is that he’d cut the corner and discovered he was with Asiaticus and his mates.’

  ‘Why so?’

  ‘Lady, we’ve been through this before, remember? Because if Surdinus had only discovered he was a double, Gaius – Felix, whoever – could’ve cut his losses and rolled the conspiracy up there and then. Like he did when I shoved my oar in. Inconvenient and scrappy, sure, and it’d offend Felix’s passion for neatness, but not the end of the world, because most if not all of the conspirators were known names already. Only if Surdinus were to tell Gaius that Cerialis was hobnobbing with someone outside the net, and that person was involved in the real conspiracy—’

  ‘It might well be blown in its turn.’ Panic attack forgotten; the lady was looking quite excited. Thrill of the chase; it happened every time. ‘Cerialis couldn’t take that risk. Marcus, that is brilliant!’

  ‘Yeah, well …’

  ‘So who have we got on the revised real-conspirator list?’

  I ticked them off. ‘Definites – at least, definite as far as I’m concerned: Cerialis himself; Valerius Asiaticus; Annius Vinicianus; Arrecinus Clemens. Plus Lucius Papinius, because the bets are that when the time comes, as one of the emperor’s guard, he’d be the actual assassin – him and enough of his like-minded and seriously armed mates to do the job properly. As Praetorian commander, Clemens could arrange that because he’d be able to fix the duty rosters. Distinct possibles: Cassius Chaerea – another candidate for the sharp end – and the freedman-secretary guy, Julius Callistus. Oh, sure, there’ll be others, there must be, but they’ll do for a start.’

  ‘What about the emperor’s replacement? You still believe it would be Marcus Vinicius?’

  Yeah, I’d been thinking a lot about that. I rubbed my chin.

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Vinicius is still the best bet. Not that I think he’s directly involved, mind; I’m with you on that. But his nephew definitely is, and like I say, with Gaius safely dead and Vinicius himself with his arm halfway up his back, he could get the appointment through the senate easy. Even so, after last night I’d take out a small side bet on Tiberius Claudius.’

  ‘What?’

  I grinned. ‘Yeah, I know. But like you said, he’s no fool in himself. Far from it. And he’s the last surviving male Julio-Claudian. If Vinicius were to refuse, which he might well do because he obviously has a lot of time for him personally, Claudius would be in with at least a chance. Besides, he’d have Asiaticus fighting his corner.’

  ‘Messalina would be pleased.’

  ‘Over the moon, lady. She’d give her eye-teeth to play Livia to Claudius’s Augustus. Even so, I reckon she’d have her work cut out. I take it back; that guy is no puppet material, he has a mind of his own. It’s just that so far he hasn’t been given the chance to use it.’

  ‘Marcus, you don’t think …’ She stopped again, and shook her head. ‘No, of course not. It’s silly. He wouldn’t.’

  ‘Wouldn’t what?’

  ‘Get himself involved with the conspiracy. Consciously and actively, I mean.’

  ‘It’s possible. I can’t say. How well do you know him yourself?’

  ‘Hardly at all, really. Certainly nowhere near as well as I know Vinicius.’

  ‘There you are, then. We’ll just have to mark it down as …’ I looked round. ‘Yeah, Bathyllus, what is it?’

  The little guy had tooled in on my blind side.

  ‘A visitor, sir,’ he said. ‘A freedman by the name of Leonidas. He says that you know him.’

  I frowned; who the hell was Leonidas? Then I remembered, and sat up sharply.

  Naevius Surdinus’s estate manager.

  Oh, gods. Please, please; just this once!

  ‘Wheel him in, Bathyllus,’ I said. ‘Spit-spot.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ He went out, leaving Perilla and me looking at each other in what your Alexandrian bodice-ripper would term ‘wild surmise’. It might be; we’d just have to keep our fingers crossed …

  Bathyllus came in with the little Sicilian in tow. Leonidas was beaming from ear to ear.

  ‘I thought that you’d like to know, sir,’ he said. ‘I’ve managed to trace our freedman friend. The one with the birthmark?’

  Joy in the morning! ‘Yeah, yeah, right,’ I said.

  ‘I put it out that I was looking for him as soon as you left, but to tell you the truth I’d given up hope. The news only came this morning. His name’s Valerius Sosibius and he has a—’

  ‘Valerius Sosibius? You’re sure?’


  ‘Yes, sir. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? I knew he couldn’t be one of yours because … well, still, there you are.’

  Shit! If this Sosibius was a freedman of Asiaticus’s – and he’d have to be, with that name – then we’d got the bastard cold. And if we’d got Asiaticus then we’d got the lot of them, because if I could lay physical hands on Surdinus’s actual killer then I’d have something concrete to take to Gaius after all. Once he was in the bag and talking – which he would do, trust Felix for that – the rest would follow …

  Score one for the freedman-cum-slave grapevine. Thank you, Jupiter! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  I punched the air. ‘Yesss!’

  Leonidas was looking a bit bemused. So, for that matter, was Perilla.

  ‘Marcus, dear,’ she murmured.

  Oh, yeah, right; pas devant les domestiques, or whatever the hell the correct Greek was. Let’s have a little Roman gravitas here. I lowered my arm quickly and cleared my throat. ‘I’m sorry, pal,’ I said. ‘Forgot myself for a moment. Carry on. You were saying?’

  ‘He has a shop in the Subura, sir. On Safety Incline. He’s a bookseller and copyist.’

  ‘He is a what?’

  ‘A bookseller and copyist, sir. He copies and sells books.’

  ‘Yeah, I got that bit.’ Gods! A homicidal bookseller! Now there was a first for you! At least he hadn’t beaten Surdinus to death with a first edition of Cato’s Farming is Fun. ‘Now you’re absolutely one hundred per cent cast-iron sure about all this, are you?’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir. My informant was a slave in Rubellius Rufus’s household. The old gentleman often uses Sosibius’s services, and Caeso – that’s the slave, sir – is in and out of the shop regularly. There’s no mistake, certainly about the birthmark. At least I hope there isn’t.’

  ‘Fantastic.’ I took out my purse and emptied out the contents – five gold pieces and a dozen bits of silver – into his waiting palms. ‘Pass half that on to Caeso, will you?’

  ‘Of course, sir. I don’t know him personally – the news came to me at third or fourth hand – but I’ll see he gets it.’ He was beaming again. ‘Even so, like I told you: myself, I’d’ve done it for nothing. Naevius Surdinus was a good master.’