'You're hurt, sir?' he said when he reached me.
'No.' I massaged my shoulder where Ganymede's first attempt at taking my head off had caught it. 'No. I'm okay.'
'Isis be praised! What a brute!' He was sweating worse than I was; I could see the beads of moisture glistening among the thin strands of hair combed carefully across his bald scalp. 'A dreadful experience. Simply dreadful.'
'I've had worse.' I was looking around for my knife. I found it eventually wedged between two stones, far enough away and invisible enough to have ruled it out if I'd really needed it. 'Thanks, friend. He'd've had me cold if you hadn't come along.'
'Don't mention it, sir. We're only too glad to have been of service.' He took a napkin out of his tunic and mopped his forehead. 'The authorities really ought to do something about these footpads. Nights are bad enough, but when a gentleman can't walk the public streets in daylight without being set upon there's something sadly wrong with the world.'
'The Janiculan's hardly the Market Square,' I said. I could've added, And that guy was hardly an ordinary footpad, but I didn't; it would only have led to questions. I wiped the knife and slipped it back into its sheath.
'No, that's true. Even so...' He looked beyond me. 'Ah. Here's Lamprus back. I don't think he caught your friend. Did you, Lamprus?' The man-mountain gave a negative grunt and came over to stand beside him. It was like watching a warship docking. 'A shame. He's willing, sir, but he's no Pheidippides. Still, we'd better see you safely through Trans-Tiber just in case.'
'Thanks, but there's no need for that. I'm fine now.' I frowned; something smelt fishy here, although I couldn't quite say what. 'Uh, by the way, I didn't catch your name.'
He paused and smiled. 'Felix.'
'A freedman?'
'Yes, sir.' He ducked his head.
'Whose?'
'I used to belong to Sextus Titius Sabinus, sir.'
Uh-huh. The smell of rotten fish was getting stronger. I knew the name, sure I did. Sabinus was one of the men on my original shortlist, the close friend of Agrippina set up by a crowd of informers and executed for treason three years back. Now here was one of his freedmen jumping up out of nowhere with a tame gorilla in tow, just in time to save my neck for me. Neat; too neat. Coincidences like that happen, but I'd bet a year's income to a pitted olive that this wasn't the time. Felix and his big pet had been shadowing me.
'Titius Sabinus?' I said. 'Is that so?'
'Yes, sir. That is so.' His eyes met mine. They were grey and candid; and very, very smart.
'Sabinus is dead,' I said. 'Who do you work for now?'
'Myself, mostly. Although I still have connections with the family, of course.'
I folded my arms and grinned. 'Nuts. I don't believe you, pal. Not about working for yourself, anyway. You want to try again?'
There was a long silence while we stared at each other. I had the impression he was laughing, although his face was perfectly serious. Finally he took a deep breath and said, very slowly and carefully:
'No. Not really, Valerius Corvinus.'
So he knew my name, and he'd used it quite deliberately. Scrap coincidence, he'd been tailing me right enough. The only surprising thing was that he should give the game away straight off and so easily; and in that case maybe he could tell me a bit more. I uncrossed my arms and took a step forward.
Lamprus growled deep in his throat.
'I don't think, sir,' Felix said quietly, 'that that is a terribly good idea.'
My spine went cold and I backed off quickly. The rumbling subsided. Yeah, well, perhaps the guy had a point.
'You sure you don't want a second shot at telling me who your current boss is?' I said.
'Quite sure.' A half-smile. 'I'm sorry.'
'That's okay. Just checking.' I glanced at Lamprus. 'Is that thing safe?'
'Reasonably. Although he does tend to get overexcited.' He paused. 'What I will say, sir, is that I work for someone who has an interest in your continued survival.'
Yeah. That much I'd worked out for myself. 'That's nice to know, pal, but I like to know my friends' names. Are we talking about one of the Julians? Or maybe Arruntius or Lamia? Or someone else altogether?'
'Perhaps.'
Jupiter! I'd met looser clams. 'You care to tell me which?'
'That, unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to say.' His mouth drew itself into a prim line. 'Honestly, sir, I hate prevarication as much as you do and I really didn't envisage this conversation taking place at all. I find this whole affair most embarrassing.'
'You and me both, sunshine,' I said. Personally, I was finding it totally weird, and my head was beginning to spin. Maybe Ganymede had clipped me with his iron bar after all, and somehow I'd missed it.
'Also,' the little guy continued, 'I've been given very strict instructions which it's more than my life's worth to disobey. And I don't mean that figuratively. Isn't that so, Lamprus?'
The seven-foot gorilla grunted. Maybe it was a reply, but it could've been wind. I hadn't heard him speak yet, and I doubted if he included it in his repertoire of talents. Maybe he'd never learned, or lost the knack somehow.
'So your being Sabinus's freedman was a lie as well?' I said.
Felix looked shocked. 'Oh, no, sir! Most certainly not! I was his slave for many years. Lamprus also. In fact...' Felix stopped. 'No, perhaps I shouldn't say any more.'
'Hey, don't mind me! Talk away! Feel free!'
'I'm sorry,' he said firmly. 'I've talked quite enough already. My fault entirely. Lamprus, I think we should leave the gentleman before I exceed my brief totally. You agree?' The giant grunted again and Felix turned back to me, looking prim as hell. 'My apologies, sir. I'm simply not used to secrecy, you see, and I find it very uncongenial. I'm an open person normally, as I hope you appreciate, and I've been as frank with you as my instructions permit, but anything further would not be in anyone's interest, least of all my own. I'm pleased to have been of service, and happy that you escaped relatively unscathed. If you don't mind, we'll leave it at that.'
Gods, I didn't believe this! In a way, I was glad Lamprus was there to stop me shaking more out of him. Not that I kidded myself it would've been easy. Soft as Felix seemed, if push came to shove I suspected he'd simply refuse to talk altogether and I'd've felt guilty as hell putting the squeeze on him, whatever the result.
'Yeah. Yeah, okay.' I took a gold piece from my purse and held it out. 'Forget it. Here, friend. With my thanks'
Felix looked shocked. 'Oh, we really couldn't take that, could we, Lamprus?' A negative grunt. 'We will, however, see you back safely to the Sublician as per our instructions. From a suitable distance, of course. Good luck, sir, with your investigation. A pleasure to have met you, even under these unfortunate circumstances.'
'Wait!' I laid a hand on his arm. Lamprus growled, and I dropped it. 'One more thing. You know who that guy was? The one who attacked me?'
'No.' I got a look that was completely bland. 'I've no idea.'
Like hell he didn't. 'Yeah, well, forget that too.' I turned away, then back as a thought struck me. 'Oh, by the way and just out of interest. Your name isn't really Felix, is it? And when he's not running down muggers the Last of the Titans here doesn't answer to Lamprus, either?'
I knew as soon as I'd said the words that I'd hit the bull. Not that he seemed put out at all. In fact his face lit up in a huge smile.
'No, sir,' he said. 'Oh, well done! You're quite correct, these are not our proper names. Could I ask how you knew?'
I couldn't help smiling back. 'Just a hunch.'
'A very perspicatious one, then. Although it was lucky for you that I came along, wasn't it? And although Lamprus isn't exactly bright he really is rather splendid.'
I laughed. Puns, now. I was beginning to like Felix, or whoever the hell he really was: Lampros is Greek for 'bright' or 'splendid', just as Felix means lucky. So much for putting Bathyllus on a name hunt along the slave grapevine, which I would've done as soon as I got back.
'Than
ks again,' I said. 'This time for saving me some effort.'
He nodded. 'Don't mention it, sir. A pleasure.'
I moved off down the path towards the road and the river. I was sorry I probably wouldn't be seeing this little guy again. He was smart, and he had a sense of humour. He'd shown himself a pretty good tail, too: Jupiter knew how long he and his pal had been following me, but I'd never even suspected they were there, and if it hadn't been for the attack I still wouldn't know. Also, for someone who'd claimed to be totally wet behind the ears in the sneaky tricks department he'd done all right; better than all right. Forget the wide-eyed innocent pose, he'd told me just exactly as much as he'd wanted to, truth or lies, whichever, without making me feel he was holding anything back. That had taken real brains, and more than a pinch of downright sneakiness.
In which case before I was much older I'd make a point of finding out more about Titius Sabinus. Whether Felix had told the truth there or not, I'd bet a jug of Caecuban to a week-old mussel that handing me the name had been no accident.
I got home an hour later. There was a note waiting for me from Lippillus asking me to meet him on the Esquiline.
Someone had smashed in Vibius Celsus's skull.
15.
It was quite definitely murder: the back of Celsus's head had been smashed like an eggshell. Shit. This I felt really bad about; when I'd left him I'd told the poor bugger he was safe. Sure, I'd meant 'safe' as far as I was concerned, but it still left a bad taste, like any broken promise.
We were in the garden of the house. I hadn't been out here when I'd visited, of course. Although it was bigger than I'd thought it would be it was seriously run down and there were no statues worth talking about. If Celsus had been lying when he claimed he was broke then he certainly hadn't spent any ill-gotten Spanish gains on impressing the neighbours.
'When was it done?' I asked Lippillus's opposite number, the head of the Third Region Watch; the Third handled the Isis and Serapis and Temple of Peace districts, which took in both the Esquiline and the Caelian.
'Some time between mid-morning and noon.' Libanius Clemens indicated the stone bench and the blood-soaked book beside it: although the body itself had been removed for tidying up no one had touched the bookroll. 'He liked a quiet read in the mornings, seemingly. His chef found him when he came for the dinner instructions.'
I glanced at the book's title, miraculously unsplashed with bits of Celsus: The Pirates' Prisoner, one of the more lurid Alexandrian romances and not exactly adult reading. The poor guy should've stuck to getting all his thrills second-hand. Mid-morning was right. It would've left plenty of time for Ganymede to have got over from the Esquiline to the Janiculan and have a go at parting my own hair for me. And he would've succeeded if it hadn't been for the pseudo-Felix and his tame mountain.
'Celsus was a bachelor,' Clemens said, 'so there was no one else in the house, barring slaves. We'll have them tortured, naturally.' He glanced at Lippillus, who was frowning. 'They must've seen or heard something. It may even have been one of them who did it.'
'The killer came over the back wall and left the same way.' Lippillus's voice was level. 'You can see where the ivy's been pulled down in that far corner. And the flowers in the flower bed have been trampled. We're out of sight of the house. If any of the slaves saw anything it had to be the gardener, and that poor bastard's lying in the slave quarters with a poisoned foot. Torturing slaves isn't going to get anyone anywhere.'
'Is that so, now?' Clemens picked the book-roll up and set it carefully on the bench. 'Let's just get one thing clear from the start. A narrow-striper's been murdered, this is my ward, and I'll do things my way, okay? I may stretch the rules and allow you and your nosey aristocratic friend here in as a favour, but that doesn't mean I want your advice.'
Hey! I was beginning to take a positive dislike to this arm of the law.
'Not even if we can give you a description of the guy responsible, pal?' I said.
Clemens looked up sharply. 'What?'
'The man you want is just short of six foot, late twenties, heavily built but running to fat. Close-cropped straight dark hair, thick nose and lips.' Clemens was staring at me. 'Probably Asiatic Greek. And he has severe problems with body odour. Is that enough for you, or do you want me to draw you a picture?'
I must've sounded pretty pissed off because the stare had turned into a scowl. 'How do you know all this?' he said.
'Because he nearly put me underground a couple of hours later on the Janiculan. With an iron bar. Identical weapon, identical method. Or maybe you think that's coincidence.'
'Maybe. That depends if you can prove a definite connection.'
'Hell’s bloody teeth!' I turned away, furious: it was guilt, sure; if he hadn't talked to me Celsus would still be alive, and the poor sap hadn't been a real villain, just a weak character caught up in something too big for him. 'No, I can't prove it. But there would be reasons.'
'Reasons,' Clemens said slowly. 'Okay. I'm ready to listen if you'd care to spell them out.'
'No.' I shook my head. 'I can't do that.'
A shrug. He turned away. 'Then we go by the book and torture the slaves.'
Lippillus looked at us, from one to the other. 'Clemens,' he said, 'This is high-level stuff. Political. Believe me, the slaves had nothing to do with it.'
'Sure I'll believe you. Once you give me the evidence.'
'For the gods' sakes!' Lippillus turned away in disgust.
I'd had enough of this. I grabbed at Clemens's throat. 'Okay, pal. You want to know who killed Celsus? Who really killed him? The real murderer's name is Lucius Aelius Sejanus, Commander of Praetorians and the Wart's best buddy. Now go ahead and torture your slaves and if you're very unlucky, friend, you might just get that nugget of information out of one of them yourself. In which case then pity help you when he finds out you've got it!'
'Marcus, this isn't helping,' Lippillus muttered. I ignored him.
Clemens's eyes had widened, and his face had gone the colour of milk. Not just because I had a fistful of his mantle, either. Sejanus's name tended to have that effect on people.
Lippillus leaned forward and laid a quiet hand on my arm.
'That's enough,' he said. 'Now put him down or I'll have to arrest you for obstruction.'
He would, at that. Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn't've lost my temper. It wasn't Clemens's fault, he was only doing his job as he saw it. I relaxed my grip, and the guy sat down hard on the blood-soaked bench. His laundress wasn't going to like that, not one little bit.
'Sejanus?' His voice was a sick whisper.
'Sejanus. You still want me to give you reasons?'
'No. No.' He passed a hand over his mouth. 'We'll take them as read. Holy Jupiter! You're sure?'
'Sure I'm sure.'
'Oh, gods! Oh, good, sweet Jupiter!' He licked his lips. 'So what should I do?'
'What Laco tells you,' Lippillus said. Laco was the overall Watch Commander for the city; an okay guy in his way, but definitely a political appointment with his own fish to fry. 'And, believe me, that will be to drop this case down the nearest sewer and put the lid back on fast.'
Clemens nodded. He was shaking, and his face was a sickly grey now. I could smell the fear.
'One more thing,' I said. 'Find me Ganymede.'
The Watch Head simply stared.
'Clemens is okay.' Lippillus walked with me as far as the front door. 'He just plays by the rules. And he's right about the slaves. Celsus was a purple-striper. These things you don't skimp.'
'Yeah, I know.' The door slave opened up for me. He was only a kid, and he looked scared to death, as well he might. He knew the laws governing murder investigations as well as I did, and with his dead master being a knight there wasn't any leeway. 'I know. I just don't like waste, that's all.'
'Nor do I. So we'd best find your friend quickly, just in case Laco isn't as sensible as I think he is.' Lippillus paused. 'By the way, what colour tunic was your Janiculan pal wearing whe
n he hit you?'
'Ganymede? Blue. A dirty blue, pretty much patched, under a leather jerkin.'
'He'll need another patch, then, when he gets home.' Lippillus held up a scrap of torn material he'd been holding in his hand. 'I found it caught on one of the rose bushes in the bed near the wall.'
'Uh-huh.' It was dark blue wool, about an inch square. 'You didn't think of passing that over to Clemens, I suppose?'
'I wouldn't rely on any help from Clemens, Corvinus. Like I said, if he's got the slightest inkling of the truth Laco'll shut this investigation down so fast it'd make your head spin. I'll do the digging myself.'
'You think that's wise?'
'Not really. But that's how it has to be. Now he knows Sejanus is involved, investigating officer or not, Laco or not, Clemens won't touch the case with a forty-foot pole. I won't be stepping on any sensitive toes.'
'That wasn't what I meant. At least, not in that sense.'
'Yeah. Still, it has to be done and someone's got to do it.'
'But...'
'Marcus.' He looked me in the eye, as far as a five-foot dwarf can manage something like that. 'Understand this. I don't like murder in cold blood, and I like still less the thought of covering it up, whoever's patch it's on. Besides, it's my job. With the description you gave I should be able to lay my hands on the killer without too much trouble.' He stood with one hand on the door jamb. 'I'll keep in touch. Stay safe, right?'
'Yeah. You, too, pal.'
He went back inside. It was building up for rain as I rejoined Patrician Street and headed for the eastern end of the Subura and home. Stay safe. I didn't like the way things were going; I didn't like it above half. Celsus's death and the attack on the Janiculan showed that however careful I'd thought I was being I'd been noticed, and Aelius Sejanus wasn't one to let the grass grow under his feet. This investigation could turn very nasty, very quickly, and not just for me. Clemens's attitude may've verged on the spineless, but I couldn't fault his caution. Maybe I should've told Lippillus to leave things alone too. After all, it wasn't his fight, slaves or no slaves. Maybe I should still tell him...
Sejanus (Marcus Corvinus Book 3) Page 11