Venus in copper mdf-3

by Lindsey Davis

  Helena was surprised. 'The dishes were gold!'

  'Not all. Anthea said she nearly didn't wash up the cake plate; I saw that, it was a giant silver comport Severina had given to Novus.'

  'I still think she was wasting eggs,' Helena muttered, inspecting our own crock doubtfully.

  'All right. Tell me instead what the runabout said about men watching the house.' She concentrated on the egg white; Helena did not believe in sharing her troubles with an invalid. 'I think we're safe,' I told her, because I knew who the watchers would be.

  'Marcus-'she began indignantly.

  'When you go out, march straight up and ask who sent them here.'

  'You know?'

  'Petronius. He has equipped us with a highly visible vigilante guard.'

  'If Petronius thinks that necessary, it frightens me even more!' We stared at each other. Helena must have decided there was no point creating a fuss. 'Did I ask the right questions?'

  'You always ask the right questions!'

  'The cakes are important, Marcus; I know they are. You could poison cakes individually. But ensuring the right victim took the right cake… I thought it must be the extra large one.'

  'I know you did,' I smiled at her.

  'That would have been perfect, Marcus! Hortensius Novus was the host. In such a vulgar house I bet they offer platters to the host first; Novus could be guaranteed to grab the best!'

  I smiled again. 'Yet Severina took it off the plate!'

  'This is a complete puzzle.'

  'Perhaps not. It could be that Severina is innocent. Maybe she went to the house, even though she was feeling off colour, because she had realised the banquet could be dangerous for her beloved. Maybe she really wanted to check for anything suspicious in the food.'

  'Is that what she says?' Actually, that was one line she had not inflicted on me yet. 'It could be,' Helena retorted bleakly, 'this is just what Severina wants you to think. Do you believe Viridovix knew she was checking for people trying to get at his food?'

  'Viridovix was no fool.'

  Helena growled. 'Perhaps you were meant to discover the business with the giant pastry; it could be a clever double bluff, while the poison was really somewhere else -'

  'Oh it was somewhere else!' We both fell silent. 'If he was poisoned at the dinner,' I said, 'it may rule out any connection with Priscillus. His business rival could not easily snuff him out in his own house.'

  'Could not Priscillus have bribed one of the Hortensius slaves?'

  'Risky. Slaves fall under suspicion so easily. It would take a large bribe-and then there is a risk that a slave with too much money becomes conspicuous.'

  'Not if the slave was Viridovix; and if Viridovix is now dead!'

  'I won't believe it was the cook.'

  'All right. You met him!' She noticed I was really too tired to go on. 'Are we any further forwards?' she asked, smoothing my bedcover.

  I lifted a scratched finger tenderly to her cheek. 'Oh I think so!' I leered at her cheekily.

  Helena put my arm back under the cover. 'It's time I fed the parrot; go to sleep!'

  'The parrot is old enough to feed itself.'

  She was still sitting quietly with me. 'You sound better; it's a good sign when you can talk.'

  'I can talk; I just can't move.' Something was on her mind. 'What is it, fruit?'

  'Nothing.'

  'I know my girl!'

  'Marcus, how do you bear the pain?'

  'At the time you're being beaten up, you tend to be too busy to notice it. Afterwards, you just have to be brave…' I was watching her. Sometimes Helena's dogged way of tackling life made her close in on herself. It was hard for anyone to reach her then, though sometimes she would turn to me. 'Sweetheart… when you lost the baby did it hurt?'

  'Mmm.' Despite the brief answer, she was prepared to communicate. There might never be another opportunity like this.

  'Is that why having another frightens you?'

  'I'm frightened of everything, Marcus. Not knowing what will happen. Not being able to do anything about it. The helplessness… Incompetent midwives, crass physicians with terrifying instruments-I'm frightened I'll die. I'm terrified that after all that effort the baby will die, and how will I bear it?… I love you very much!' she said suddenly. It did not seem irrelevant.

  'I would be there,' I promised her.

  She smiled sadly. 'You would find some urgent job to do!'

  'No,' I said.

  Helena wiped away her tears while I lay trying to look reliable. 'Now I'll go and feed the parrot,' she said.

  She made the mistake of looking back from the door.

  I grumbled plaintively, 'You're only using that parrot as a handy alibi!'

  'Look at the state of you!' Helena scoffed. 'Who needs an alibi?'

  Then before I could reach out and grab her she had to run, because a grinding noise announced that the damned parrot was learning to bend open the bars of its cage.

  'Oh stop being so wicked and tell me who did it!' Helena roared.

  But Chloe only shrieked back, 'Marcus has been a naughty boy!'

  Untrue, unfortunately.

  Chapter LIII

  Helena decided she would visit her parents before the Senator (with a large cudgel) came to visit me.

  I was half dozing when I thought I heard her returning; I lay low until someone came into the bedroom, when I shouted out, 'Is that you?'

  'Oh Juno!' Wrong voice! 'Yes; it's me-you frightened me!'

  Severina Zotica.

  I sat up abruptly. She had the parrot on her forearm, so she must have been into the office where we kept its cage. I wondered if the prying cat's little feet had also invaded Helena's room. Her nose would have brought her tripping in here, for Helena was a determined believer in fenugreek poultices, continually applied (unlike Petronius, who cleaned wounds once with his balsam resins, then tended to lose interest).

  My mashed features stopped the gold-digger short. 'Oh no! Oh, Falco, whatever happened to you?'

  'Appius Priscillus.'

  She was at the bedside, fluttering with concern. 'But you need looking after -'

  'Someone takes care of me.'

  Her eyes darted round quickly. She had already absorbed the fact that despite half a week's dissolute growth of beard, I was well sponged down, combed, and fitted out like an eastern potentate with cushions and bowls of figs. My abrasions and swellings had finished growing worse, though they had not yet begun to improve; the bandages were off to air them, but I had been covered up with a clean tunic-not for modesty, but to stop me prodding the bumps and scabs to check progress every five minutes.

  'Your mother?' Severina queried sharply.

  'Girlfriend,' I stated, for some reason not wanting her to know.

  Severina's white face seemed to become taut. At that moment the parrot crooned softly in its throat, so she stroked the feathers on its grey neck. 'You lied to me, Falco-about this bird-and about your woman friend too.'

  'Not at all.'

  'You said-'

  'I know what I said. It was true at the time. It's my girlfriend who needs Chloe for company. They both have tricky tempers; I think they're taming one another…' These jolly jests were making little headway. 'I'm sorry I couldn't keep in touch; I've not left the house since this. What can I do for you?'

  'One of my slaves heard a rumour Priscillus had had you worked over, so I rushed round here of course – I never imagined it would be so bad!'

  'It's getting better. No need to get fluffed up.'

  Helena's wicker chair was by my bed, so I motioned Severina to sit down. 'Nice to have a visitor.' The atmosphere seemed tense and I wanted to loosen the screw.

  She scowled. 'So where is your attendant?'

  'Helena?' The girl's insistency was irritating me, but stretched out on my own bed in comfort, I could not be bothered to fight. The redhead seemed to have an envious urge for possession, like a child snatching at other infants' toys before it has been taught
self-control. 'Helena Justina has gone to explain to her father, who happens to be a senator, why I have yet to put in an appearance to apologise for pinching his noble child. If a man rushes in with red crescents on his boots-' (the traditional patrician uniform) '-bearing a sharp sword and a furious expression, just step aside and let him get to me!'

  'You unspeakable hypocrite-you're after her money!'

  'Oh she's after mine. I have great difficulty keeping her away from my accounts!'

  People never believe the truth.

  There was a silence. I was still too sick to concern myself with other people's touchiness.

  'What's this, Falco?'

  I had a slate on the bed. 'Today's diagnosis was boredom; I was left here with orders to write a poem. Thought I might scribble a satire on why I hate parrots.'

  'What a rude man!' crooned Severina to the parrot.

  'What a rude man!' Chloe instantly answered her.

  'Quick learner!' I observed.

  Unabashed Severina turned back to me. 'Does this mean the investigation has ground to a halt?'

  'Ah! The investigation…' I joked, teasing her with flippancy. There were several queries I could have put to her: concerning egg-white glazes for instance, or thrownaway patisserie. But I had decided to complete my enquiries before I let Severina Zotica confuse the issue with more easy answers. I adopted my brave professional voice: 'I need a week at home in bed – but I shall have to make do with three days. Tomorrow morning is the funeral of the Hortensius chef, which I want to attend.'

  Severina looked troubled. 'What happened to Viridovix, Falco? I heard he had died, very suddenly. Is it something to do with what happened to Novus?'

  I smiled reassuringly. 'Viridovix died peacefully in his sleep.'

  'Then why are you going to his funeral?'

  'Firstly, I liked him. Also, it gets me near the house.'

  'Looking for clues?'

  'Could be.'

  'Falco, I don't understand you sometimes! I am your client, Falco. Why is it necessary to be so secretive?'

  'No complicated motive. All right: I think it might be useful to show the Hortensius family-and probably through them to warn that bastard Priscillus-that contrary to rumour I am still able to get about.' She looked down at me, as if she was afraid I might not manage it. 'Tell me, have you ever encountered this Priscillus?'

  She frowned suspiciously, though in fact the question was mere curiosity. 'When I was married to the apothecary, we lived near that house of his up on the Esquiline. Then when things between him and Novus were at their worst recently, I went to see Priscillus myself. I acted as go-between and took his invitation to the dinner-'

  'Novus agreed to that?'

  'Of course! I would never have gone otherwise.' I nodded gravely, amused by this shocked protest; of course no respectable female visits men. But then who is respectable; 'If it was Priscillus who killed my fiance, I helped bring it about!' She had a quaint way of overlooking ironies,

  'Calm down,' I clucked. 'A property war was about to erupt well before you took a hand in it. And now I've been on the receiving end of Priscillus when he felt disgruntled, I reckon Hortensius Novus was destined for Hades what- ever you did.'

  'Do you think it was Priscillus? Did he attack you because you had some evidence?'

  'Priscillus would probably have killed Novus if he could get away with it. I am not sure yet. My money is on Pollia and Atilia at the moment-' She looked satisfied with that alternative, as any woman would.

  I was starting to worry why Helena had been gone so long; I missed her if she left the house. I suggested Severina could stay and meet her. 'No; I was on my way to the baths-' So much for making a special journey to see me She persuaded the parrot to hop on to the post at the end of my bed. 'Now: you are going to the cook's funeral; I still don't really know why-' She paused, as if she did not entirely trust me. I scowled, which may not have given the reassurance she required. 'Will you come and see me afterwards?' 'If madam requires.'

  Before she left she told me to take care of myself (though I thought we had established someone else was doing that), then at the last moment she leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  I swear she expected me to grapple her onto the bed Some people show no respect for an invalid.

  'Alone at last!' I sighed at the parrot.

  'More front than the beach at Baiae!' the parrot returned colloquially.

  I started my poem.

  Afterwards I did some thinking.

  Anyone else who had been battered to cow-heel glue by Appius Priscillus might decide that alone convicted him of any unsolved deaths that month. I was not so sure. The sequence of events seemed illogical. Hortensius Novus had invited Priscillus to dinner, promising a pact; there was no way Priscillus could have known until the night was over that Novus would reject a merger after all. When things were looking hopeful, why come armed to murder him? The over-ostentatious cake rang with the women's resonance. Obvious and vulgar. Too obvious, it seemed to me-but crimes are often committed with ludicrously poor judgement. Criminals are supposed to be cunning and clever. Sometimes fools get away with a crackpot scheme because no one can believe they would have behaved so stupidly. Not me though. After five years as an informer, I was prepared to believe anything. I had been thoughtful too long. 'So tell me who did it? Chloe screamed. I threw my boot at her, just as Helena came in. She rushed out again, giggling helplessly. 'How was your father?' I shouted after her. 'He wants to talk to you.' 'I thought he might!'

  She poked her head back round the door curtain and gave me a smile which ought to have warned me there was worse to come. 'Actually, my mother does as well…'

  Helena Justina reckoned Falco's Satire I. I ('Let me tell you, Lucius, a hundred reasons why I hate this parrot…') was the best work I had ever done. Just my luck.

  Chapter LIV

  I make it a rule never to go to the funerals of people I have killed myself. But it seemed fair to make an exception for someone I had killed by accident.

  Helena was still sleeping on the reading couch in the other room, on the poor excuse that she would not disturb my convalescing frame. Something would have to be done about that. I was already enjoying myself, planning schemes for changing things.

  I got up quietly on my own. The day before I had dressed and mooched about the house to test my strength, but there was a subtle difference now I knew I was going outside. For the first time since I was hurt I made my own morning drink; watered the sleepy parrot; and looked about like a proprietor again (noticed that the crack in the wall seemed to be growing steadily). I took a beaker in to Helena. Hiding her anxiety, she pretended to be half asleep though an inch of warm cheek emerged from the coverlet to be kissed goodbye.

  'Take care…'

  'And you.'

  On legs which felt like cotton floss I walked downstairs, then I noticed a carrier staring at my bruises so I walked all the way back to find a hat. In case Helena had heard me and was frightened, I popped in to reassure her it was me.

  She had gone.

  Puzzled, I turned back into the corridor. The apartment was silent; even the parrot had hunched up and gone back to sleep.

  I pushed aside the curtain to my bedroom. Her beaker of hot honey now stood among my own pillowside litter of pens, coins and combs; Helena was in my bed. As soon as I left she must have scampered out and curled up here, where I had been.

  Her brown eyes stared at me like some defiant dog, left alone, which had jumped up on its master's couch the moment he left the house.

  She did not move. I waved the hat in explanation, hesitated, then crossed the room to kiss her goodbye again. I found the same cheek-then as I moved away she followed; her arms came round my neck, and our lips met. My stomach tensed. Then a brief moment of questioning dissolved into certainty: this was the old, sure welcome only Helena could give-the girl I so badly wanted, saying that she wanted me…

  I made myself stop. 'Work!' I groaned. No one would hold u
p the cook's funeral if I stayed to play.

  Helena smiled, still hanging round my neck as I feebly tried to free myself while my hands began to travel over and round her more deliberately. Those eyes of hers were so full of love and promise I was ready to forget everything. 'Work, Marcus…' she echoed. I kissed her again.

  'I think it's time,' I murmured, against Helena's mouth, 'I started coming home for lunch like a good Roman householder…'

  Helena kissed me.

  'Stay there!' I said. 'Don't stir-stay there and wait for me!'

  Chapter LV

  This time as I reached ground level some contractor's men were unloading their tools from a hand-drawn cart. A helpful sign. If the landlord was bringing in the finishing trades at last, maybe we should soon have new tenants too. Make the place less like living in a mausoleum. And some time -though probably not today! – I might persuade those fellows to stuff some hair and plaster in our crack.

  I felt good. Even though I was going to someone else's funeral, my life was cheering up.

  It was the Kalends of September. In Rome, still hot well into the evening, though in the northern parts of the Empire – Britain, for instance, where I had served in the army and later met Helena-there would be a damp chill now in the mornings and the long winter dark would already be making its approach felt on the late afternoons. Even here, time had taken a new turn round the spindle. I felt like a stranger. I had that uneasy mood which besets the emerging invalid, as if the city had lived through centuries in the few days I was confined to my sickroom.

  I had come out too soon. The air felt troublesome on my fragile skin. The bustle disconcerted me. Noise and colour shouted alarm signals to my brain. But the first real shock of my working day was that when my hired donkey blundered up the slope of the Pincian, the stall where Minnius used to sell his cakes had gone.

  There was nothing left. The stall, the awning, the delectable produce had all vanished. Even the oven had been dismantled. Someone had completely levelled the cake-man's pitch.

  Within the extensive Hortensius grounds, smoke from a portable altar led me to the scene of the funeral. Members of the household were still winding out in convoy from the mansion; I stood back while they assembled in a space among the pine trees. Viridovix would be in famous company. Pincian Hill boasts the Emperor Nero's surprisingly tasteful monument.