Venus in copper mdf-3

by Lindsey Davis

  I went to bed, cursing women.

  Severina didn't want me; she wanted me to want her; not the same thing.

  Nor, I thought angrily (for the drink was now making me belligerent), was there any way that a pair of cool blue eyes would make me forget the girl who really made me furious; the girl I wanted to think about; the girl whose brown eyes once said so frankly that she wanted me…

  Frustrated beyond endurance, I crashed my clenched fist as hard as I could against the bedroom wall. Somewhere close by, within the building fabric, a shower of falling material rattled disturbingly as if I had shifted a joist. The debris trickled for a long time.

  In the darkness I moved my hand over the wall surface. Unable to find any damage to the plasterwork, I lay rigid with guilt and foreboding, listening for noises.

  Pretty soon I forgot to listen and fell asleep.

  Chapter XXXVIII

  I woke earlier than I might have done, due to my dreams. Dreams which disturbed me so badly I won't bother you by revealing what they were.

  To avoid further nightmares I sat up and dressed-a drawn-out procedure, given that it only consisted of pulling on a clean tunic over the crumpled one I had slept in, then finding my favourite boots where Ma had hidden them. During this struggle, I could hear some sort of racket going on. The old woman upstairs was bawling away at some poor soul as if he had thieved her only daughter's virginity.

  'You can only regret it!' a man's voice raged. Pleased that for once I was an innocent party in her delusions, I stuck my head out just as Cossus the letting agent tumbled downstairs past my door. He looked flustered.

  'Trouble?' I asked.

  'She's a mad old bag-' he mumbled, glancing back over one shoulder as if he feared the woman would call down a witch's curse on him. 'Some people never know what's good for them -'

  He seemed disinclined to dispel my curiosity so I contented myself with chivvying, 'What's happening about that water-carrier you promised me?'

  'Give us a chance…'

  This time I let him depart without a tip.

  I left home without any breakfast. Nursing a sore head, I set off to see the women on the Pincian. It took me some time to get there. My feet had apparently taken a vow against walking anywhere today. I fooled them by hiring a mule.

  Novus was being honoured in a brave style on his departure across the Styx. Throughout the house there was a dark smell of embalming oils and incense. Instead of a few indicative cyprus boughs, each doorway was guarded by a pair of whole trees. They must have uprooted a small forest. Trust this lot to create a spectacle even out of a funeral.

  The slaves were in strict black. The cloth looked brand-new. The freedwomen must have had sempstresses working all night.

  When I managed to get in to see them (for they were putting on a show of being too overwrought for visitors), Pollia and Atilia were veiled in elaborate swathes of exquisite white: the upper-class colour for mourning wear (more flattering).

  I muttered condolences then squared up to the situation: 'You may ask me how I dare to show my face…'

  Sabina Pollia cackled briefly. Grief can affect some people with irritability. As usual her face was beautifully presented, yet today it was apparent that her voice was ten years older than the face.

  I braced myself. 'Look; I did my best-which is all I ever promised you.' Hortensia Atilia's huge dark eyes, which looked more frightened than sorrowful, fastened on me anxiously. Sabina Pollia glared. 'You were right about Severina-though her timing seems inexplicable… There was no way to prevent what happened. But she won't escape justice this time -'

  'How can you be so confident?' Pollia asked me cuttingly.

  'Experience.'

  'You were confident before!'

  'No; I was cautious before. Now I'm angry -'

  'The matter has been reported to the Praetor,' Pollia broke in.

  'Yes; I suggested that myself-' I already guessed what was coming.

  'Then I suggest we leave the Praetor to deal with it!'

  After the whiplash of scorn from Pollia subsided, I started again cautiously: 'You commissioned me because I worked for the Palace, which happens to be where I was detained last evening-'

  'Our husbands have instructed us to discontinue your services.' This was Atilia, who had always appeared the more timid of the pair. Neither of these women would care a bent hairpin for what their husbands said; Felix and Crepito were mere ciphers. But one excuse was as another when clients were set on dismissing me.

  'Of course,' I said, 'you must respect your husband's wishes!'

  'You failed, Falco!' Pollia insisted.

  'Apparently!'

  Even with a raging hangover I knew how to be professional. They were both tense, expecting an angry outburst; I could relieve my feelings later so I disappointed them. 'Ladies, I never stick around if I have lost my clients' confidence.'

  I saluted them politely (since I wanted them to pay me), Then I left.

  The end of the case. Ah well; if I failed to recruit any other business I could always go back to working for the Palace.

  Signed off.

  Signed off again! It was always happening to me. Somehow the only clients who ever commissioned me were vacillating types. Hardly had I drummed up interest in their tawdry lives, than they changed their fretful little minds about needing me.

  I could have solved this one. I would have enjoyed doing so. Never mind; for a few weeks' surveillance I could now charge the two women extortionate expenses, then nip off out of it before the messy part. It was the best way to do business, for a philosophical man. Let the local law and order people give themselves headaches puzzling how Severina managed it this time. Let the Pincian magistrate try to bring her to court where the Praetor Corvinus on the Esquiline had failed. I was laughing. I could send a bill for my expenses, spend some time at the baths, enjoy myself, then read about official bungling in the Daily Gazette…

  But that was not the end of the case.

  I was about to stride haughtily past the ornate lodge where the Hortensius porter lurked, when I spotted somebody waiting nearby in the shade: thin arms and a black wire moustache bisecting his face. 'Hyacinthus!'

  He was waiting for me. 'Falco-can we talk?'

  'Certainly -'

  'I have to be quick. We have all been ordered not to speak to you.'

  'Why's that?' He glanced nervously up towards the house. I drew him off the main path and we squatted on our haunches beneath an elderly pine tree. 'Never mind why then-what's up?'

  'You were talking to Viridovix -'

  'Yes; I intended to have another word today -'

  Hyacinthus laughed briefly, then picked up a pine cone and hurled it among the trees. 'Did they pay you off?' he demanded.

  Well I'm sent off-it remains to be seen whether I get paid!'

  'Just present your bill. They don't want trouble.'

  Trouble? What trouble?'

  He was silent for a moment, then out it came: 'You won't be able to talk to the cook, again. Viridovix is dead!'

  Chapter XXXIX

  As soon as he said it I felt a cold sweat. 'What happened?'

  'He died last night. In his sleep.'

  'The same way as Novus?'

  'Don't think so. He looked quite peaceful. It appeared to be natural -'

  'Hah!'

  'He was healthy,' frowned Hyacinthus.

  'Cooks can always scavenge nourishment.' Viridovix was no age either; thirty, I reckoned. Like me; a boy. 'Is anyone looking into it?'

  'No chance! Someone suggested foul play to Felix-but he retorted that maybe Viridovix was so ashamed Hortensius Novus died after one of his meals, he committed suicide-I

  'Is that likely?'

  'You met him!' Hyacinthus scoffed.

  'Yes! Are the rest of you going to do anything about it?'

  'If the freedmen say no, how can we? He was,' pointed out my companion dourly, 'just a slave!' So were his friends,

  I chewed a finge
rnail. 'The Praetor who is investigating what happened to Novus ought to hear of this!'

  Hyacinthus scuffled to his feet in the loose earth. 'Forget that, Falco! The Praetor has a large loan underwritten by Crepito; he is bound to co-operate. The family want Novus buried quietly-and no other distractions.'

  'I thought they wanted to protect his interests? I thought that was why they hired me!'

  Hyacinthus looked shamefaced. 'I could never understand why they chose you,' he let slip. 'You had a reputation for bungling…'

  'Oh thanks!' I bit back an oath. Then I spat it out after all. It was one of my brother's: particularly colourful: the slave looked impressed. 'If they believed that, why commission me?'

  'Perhaps they thought you would be cheap.'

  'Then perhaps that was just one of their mistakes!'

  I remembered Helena saying that what impressed these ghastly people was expense.

  Even without seeing the body I shared the runabout's doubts about the cook's death. 'Viridovix was poisoned too,' I said. 'Though not with the same violent paralytic that dispatched Novus. 'You saw both corpses afterwards: do you agree?' The runabout nodded. I made up my mind. 'I needed to talk to Viridovix in more detail about yesterday afternoon. Now he's gone, can you possibly find me someone observant who would have been in the kitchens while the food for the dinner party was being prepared?'

  He looked uncertain. I reminded him that no one else would lift a finger to avenge the cook's death. Fellow feelings made him promise to find someone who would help. I told him my new address. Then, since he was growing anxious about being seen here with me, I let him scamper back to the house.

  I sat on under the tree, thinking about the man from Gaul. I had liked him. He accepted his fate but kept his own style. He had integrity. He was dignified.

  I thought about him for a long time. I owed him that.

  He had definitely been murdered. It must have been a slower poison than the one which struck down Novus, a less vicious kind. Presumably this too was intended for Novus-though I could not rule out the possibility he was not the only victim hoped for.

  Nor could I yet be certain that the same person had prepared both poisons. Or why at least two different attempts had been made; insurance, possibly. But I did know how the second drug was administered; that would haunt me for a long time. The poison must have been among the bitter-smelling spices which the cook took in his cup of Falernian.

  I still remembered how I mixed the wine for him: I had killed Viridovix myself.

  Chapter XL

  As I rode the hired mule south again, part of me was now saying this case would not be over until I had solved it, even if I had to wort without a fee. That was the brave and noble part. Another part (thinking of Viridovix) merely fell sordid and tired.

  I went home. There was no point going anywhere else. In particular, there was no point tangling with Severina Zotica until I had some unbreakable hold over that freckled female snake.

  Half an hour later she knocked on my door. I was thinking. To help, I was doing something practical.

  'Holiday, Falco?'

  'Mending a chair.' I was in a pedantic, bad-tempered mood.

  She stared at the battered wicker article, which had a semicircular back curving into boudoir arms. 'That's a woman's chair.'

  'Maybe when I've mended the chair I'll get a woman to go with it.'

  The redhead smiled nervously.

  She was wearing not black exactly, but some dark purple berry-juice shade; in her unconventional way this managed to imply greater respect for the dead than Pollia and Atilia had shown with all their yardage of dramatic white.

  I continued my work. The job had turned into one of those treasures where you start off intending to wind bad a few strands of loose material, but end up dismantling half the piece of furniture and rebuilding it from scratch. I had already spent two hours on it.

  To fend off Severina's annoying curiosity I snapped, 'The chair comes from my sister Galla. My mother produced some new cane. It's a pig of a job. And all the time I'm doing it I know that once Galla sees the thing serviceable, she will coo "Ooh, Marcus, you are clever!"-and ask to have her chair back again.'

  'You have the cane too dry,' Severina informed me. You ought to dampen it with a sponge -'

  'I can manage without advice.' The cane I was weaving snapped, halfway along a row. I fetched a wet sponge.

  Severina found herself a stool 'You go to a lot of trouble.'

  'Thoroughness pays.'

  She sat quiet, waiting for me to calm down. I had no intention of obliging. 'An aedile came to see me today, on behalf of the Pincian Hill magistrate.'

  I negotiated a tough end change, tugging at the cane to keep the work taut. 'No doubt you bamboozled him. I repositioned the chair between my knees.

  'I answered his questions.'

  'And he blithely went away?'

  Severina looked prim. 'Perhaps some people can see that without a motive, accusing me is illogical.'

  'Perhaps the Praetor likes a holiday in August. I soothed my aching fingers on the wet sponge. 'Anyway, here's another bonus: so long as you can fend off this aedile of his, no one else will bother you.'

  'What?'

  I got up from my knees, righted the chair, and sat in it. That put me higher than her slight, neat, shawl-wrapped figure as she still hugged her knees on my stool. 'I'm off the case, Zotica. Pollia and Atilia have dispensed with my services.'

  'Stupid of them!' Severina said. 'Anyone who cared about Novus would have let you carry on.'

  'They always did seem strangely half-hearted.'

  'I'm not surprised.' I suppressed any reaction. Whatever was to follow could only mean trouble. Still, with Severina that was nothing new. 'The fact they have dismissed you,' she continued, 'proves everything I say.'

  'How's that?'

  'Pollia and Atilia hired you to throw suspicion on me.'

  'Why?'

  'To disguise their own ambitions.'

  'What ambitions would those be?'

  Severina took a deep breath. 'There was serious friction between the three freedmen. Crepito and Felix disagreed with the way Novus handled their business affairs. Novus hated trouble, and wanted to end the partnership.'

  Much as I distrusted her, this reminded me what Viridovix had said about sensing disagreement among the freeman following their dinner. 'The other two would lose badly if he broke with them?'

  'Novus had always been the leader; he had all the initiative and ideas.'

  'So he would take a large sector of their business away with him?'

  'Exactly. Meeting me had not improved matters; if he married-especially if we had children-his present heirs would suffer.'

  'Felix and Crepito?'

  'Felix and Crepito's son. Atilia is obsessive about the boy; she was relying on an inheritance to found the child's career.'

  'What about Pollia?'

  'Pollia wants to plunder her husband's share of the cash.'

  What she said was making sense. I hated that: having established in my own mind that Severina was a villainess, I could not bring myself to readjust. 'Are you claiming that the freedmen, or their wives, would go so far as to kill Novus?'

  'Maybe they were all in it together.'

  'Don't judge other people by your own perverted standards! But I have to agree, the timing of the murder-when you and Novus had just announced the date of your wedding-does look significant.'

  Severina clapped her small white hands triumphantly. 'But it's worse than that: I told you Novus had enemies.' She had told me a number of things that were probably lies. I laughed. 'Listen to me, Falco!' I made a small gesture of apology, yet she kept me in suspense for a moment, sulkily.

  'What enemies?'

  'Apart from Crepito and Felix, he had also antagonised Appius Priscillus.

  'Do I gather he runs a rival organisation with overlapping interests? Tell me about that, Severina. What was the form at last night's dinner?'
/>   'A reconciliation; I've already told you. It was Priscillus I tried to warn you about before.'

  'He was threatening Novus?'

  'Novus, and the other two as well. That was why Atilia hardly lets her son out of her sight-one of the threats was to abduct him.' I knew Atilia took the child to school herself, which was highly unusual.

  'So which of these multiple suspects are you fingering?' I asked sarcastically.

  'That's the problem-I just don't know. Falco, what would you say if I asked to hire you myself?'

  I'd call for help, probably. 'Frankly the last thing I want is a commission from a professional bride-especially when she's midway between husbands, and tends to react unpredictably-'

  'You mean what nearly happened last night?' Severina coloured.

  'We can both forget last night.' My voice sounded lower than I had intended. I noticed that she started slightly, so her shawl slipped back, revealing her flame-coloured hair. 'We were drunk.' Severina gave me a straighter look that I liked.

  'Will you work for me?' she insisted.

  'I'll think about it.'

  'That means no.'

  'It means I'll think about it!'

  At that moment I was ready to throw the gold-digger downstairs. (In fact I was in two minds whether to give up my career altogether, hire a booth and take up chair mending…)

  There was a knock; Severina must have left my outer door ajar, and before I could answer it was pushed open. A man staggered in, gasping. His predicament was clear.

  He had just struggled up two flights of stairs-to deliver the biggest fish I ever saw.

  Chapter XLI

  I stood up. Very slowly.

  'Where do you want him, legate?' He was a small man. As he lurched in from the corridor he was holding my present up by its mouth because he could not get his arms round it: the fish looked almost as long as its deliverer was tall. It was wider than he was.

  'Slap him down here…'

  The man groaned, leaned back, then launched the fish sideways so it landed across the small table I used to lean my elbows on sometimes. Then, being a game trier, he jumped up and down, each time hauling my slippery present further on. Severina bobbed upright, daunted by a tailfin the size of an ostrich feather fan, which stuck over the edge of the table a foot from her nose.