I almost turned round and went back to Celsus's house, but I didn't. I should've done; but by the time I realised that it was too late.
16.
At least I knew where to go for information on Titius Sabinus. His nephew Columella was a regular customer at Scyllax's gym – what I still thought of as Scyllax's gym – over by the Racetrack, and he'd be there for sure the next day. There wasn't any point in going early, though. Columella held down a junior finance officer's job in the Department of Water and Roads, and he'd be busy in the mornings. Mid-afternoon I could be sure of catching him.
Besides, the next morning turned out too beautiful for work, and while we were back in Rome I owed Perilla some sort of holiday. I broached the idea over breakfast. Sallust Gardens.
She smiled over her cup of fruit juice. 'Separate litters, Corvinus?' she said.
Yeah. She'd got the reference, and the reason for the choice. Sallust Gardens in spring had special memories for us, especially one grotto in particular. It'd be nice to see that again, maybe even visit and press a few ferns. You never knew, something might catch.
'Not separate litters, lady.' I was grinning. 'Not this time. And wear your oldest mantle.'
'Marcus, I am not going to be seen in Sallust Gardens wearing an old mantle. Besides, I'm too old to go rolling about on the grass playing games. If that's what you had in mind.'
'So what's wrong with games suddenly?'
'Very well.' She stood up. 'But if we go we walk. Just walk. Along the paths, like any other respectably-married couple, enjoying the scenery.' I winced. Jupiter! 'And definitely no grottoes.'
'You sure about that?'
'I'm sure.'
'Hundred percent, cast-iron sure?'
'Yes.'
'Spoilsport.' Ah, well. Maybe she'd change her mind when we got there. I kissed her and went to tell Bathyllus to order up the litter.
Sallust Gardens are in the north of the city, between the Pincian and the Quirinal. They were beautiful at this time of year, and like I say they had memories. The good weather had pulled out a lot of punters, even more than usual, and the place was crowded. We walked around a bit like Perilla wanted. Then I bought some toasted melon seeds from one of the snack-sellers by the Faunus statue and we sat down on the grass to eat them.
'You remember what we talked about, Marcus?' Perilla licked the salt from her fingers. 'The last time we were here?'
'It's not the talking I remember,' I said.
'No.' She smiled and lowered her eyes. 'I do, though.'
'So tell me.'
'We talked about how this park happened. And about your father.'
'Ah. Yeah.' I remembered now; also that I'd been pretty concerned to get her off both subjects. Some things don't change.
'I think that was when I finally fell in love with you.'
'Is that right?' Gods! I shifted uncomfortably and looked up at the sun. Maybe we should be getting on.
‘You were so angry over things I took for granted because I'd never really thought about them. I'd never met that before. Someone who didn't fit and was ready to say so.'
'Yeah. Well.' I cleared my throat. 'Maybe I've grown up a bit since then.'
'Marcus, dear, you'll never grow up.'
'Hey, thanks! Thanks a bunch!'
She took my hand and put it round her shoulder. From a nearby bench a dowager with the face of a constipated camel glared at us. Perilla gave her her best smile and she turned away.
'That was an observation,' she said, 'not a criticism. Most certainly not a criticism. In fact if you ever did grow up – at least in the way I mean – I'd probably divorce you or take a lover out of boredom. Maybe even two lovers.'
'Uh...yeah.' Jupiter on wheels with a squeaker! What had brought this on? Was this Perilla? The trouble was I could see she was serious. Or half serious. 'Look, it's getting late. I've got to be over at the Racetrack. You feel like calling it a day?'
'In a moment. I may not ever have the nerve to say this again.' She leaned her head against my shoulder. 'I just wanted you to know that however much I complain I wouldn't really have you any different. Remember that, won't you? Oh, yes, it would be nice to have children' she put her finger against my opening mouth 'but they're not everything. Lots of couples are a lot less lucky than we are, and I can stand a little disappointment.'
I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. Suddenly she shook herself and stood up.
'I'm sorry. This, to use one of your phrases, is getting heavy. Let's see if we can find our grotto, shall we?'
I couldn't swear to it, but I was almost sure she put out her tongue at old camel-face as we passed.
Daphnis had a sleek and prosperous look about him these days, but I didn't grudge him it: the erstwhile sand-pushing duckling had turned out to be a financial swan, and the gym was coining money for me hand over fist. I'd got someone else in on the practical side, of course – an ex-legionary with a limp and a whole sheaf of good-conduct certificates – but he was just another client, like anyone else's. There wasn't the rapport I'd had with Scylax, and there never would be.
'Hey, Daphnis,' I said, clapping him on the shoulder. 'How are things?'
I got the familiar long slow stare. Some things don't change. I doubt if he'd even noticed I'd been away.
'Not bad,' he said. 'You want to see Publius? He isn't in yet.'
Publius was the retired soldier, and his only vice was drink: now he'd got shot of army discipline he was making up for lost time. No doubt his long-suffering daughter would be walking him up and down the living-room floor to sober him up after last night's binge with the boys. He was a good trainer, though.
'Not particularly.' I sat on the corner of the desk. Daphnis sniffed and pointedly moved the half a dozen wax tablets he was working on out of the way. 'You know anything about a guy called Marius? Sextus Marius?'
That got me the stare again. 'Never heard of him,' Daphnis said at last, and picked up his pen. 'Now if you've quite finished messing up my desk...'
Gods! The same old Daphnis, friendly and helpful to a fault. I got up again quickly before he accidentally-on-purpose prodded me in the leg with the pen. Well, it'd been worth a try: Daphnis was Spanish himself, and they're a clannish lot. But then there are Spaniards and Spaniards, and Marius hadn't struck me as the sort to mix with ex-skivvies like the world's most cheerful freedman here.
'Columella around this afternoon?' I said after a pause.
'Sergius Columella?' Daphnis grunted with supreme disinterest. 'Sure. He came early. He's in the bath-house.'
Yeah. That'd explain why I hadn't seen him outside, banging away with the wooden foils and working up a sweat along with the other punters.
'The bath house,' I said. 'Right.'
'You know your way, don't you?'
Without waiting for an answer he turned back to his wax tablets. That, it would seem, was all I was getting of the great man's valuable time. I know when I'm not wanted. I gave him the finger and walked over to the bath-house.
I collected a towel from the slave at the door, checked my mantle and tunic in the changing rooms and went straight through to the cold room. A bath would've been great, but this was business and I couldn't afford to miss Sabinus's nephew. He was stretched out by the side of the cold plunge, having his post-bathing rub down.
'Corvinus!' He sat up. 'You back in Rome?'
'So it would seem.' I sat down beside him with my back to the wall. Columella was okay, but he was an acquaintance rather than a friend. And fortunately for my purposes what there was between his ears was solid bone. Jupiter knew how the Water and Roads department functioned at all if they had any more like him on the payroll. We were lucky we weren't all dead of thirst.
'So how's it going?' Columella sent the slave away and sat back. 'I hear your father died.'
'Yeah. Perilla and I came home for the funeral.'
'What was it? Do you know?'
'One of these sudden winter fevers. At least it was
quick.' I paused. 'Your family all okay?'
'Mother died last September.'
'I'm sorry to hear that.' I was: I'd never met Titia Plautina, but she was a decent old stick, a perpetual invalid who'd been confined to her bed for years.
'Yeah. She was glad to go, though. She never really got over Uncle Sextus's death.'
Plautina, of course, had been Sabinus's sister. Now Columella had raised the subject himself this was going to be easier than I'd thought.
'Uh, I heard something about that in Athens,' I said carefully. 'There was some sort of scandal, wasn't there?'
Columella glared at me. 'Not on my uncle's side, Corvinus. Whatever people said. The bastards set him up.'
'So I heard.' I kept my voice neutral. 'There were four of them, weren't there?'
'That's right.' The glare didn't slacken. 'Latiaris, Cato, Rufus and Opsius. If you want the names.'
Sure I did; but none of them rang any bells. Nevertheless I filed them away for future reference. 'So what happened?'
He scratched absently at a raw patch where the slave had caught him with the scraper. 'The usual.'
'The usual?'
'The usual farce of a trial. You weren't in Rome then. You don't know what it was like.'
'No, that's true.' I paused. 'He was set up, you say?'
'Six ways from nothing. You know he was friendly with Agrippina?'
'Yeah,' I said. 'Yeah, I'd heard that.'
'Friendly, mind. Nothing more.' Columella scowled. 'We may not have got on especially, but Uncle Sextus wasn't the type for affairs. Not with someone like Agrippina, anyway.'
'I've heard that as well.'
'Good. Believe it.' He shifted against the wall. Luckily we were on our own: it was still early, and the other gym regulars were either thrashing around outside trying to carve bits off each other or sweating next door in the hot room. I doubt if there'd been anyone else around he would've told me even this much. Politics – even stale politics – wasn't a safe topic of conversation at Rome these days.
'So,' I said. 'How did they do it?'
Anyone else would've been getting slightly suspicious about my motives by this time, but like I say Columella was solid bone from the neck up. He never blinked.
'They sweet-talked him. Got him to seriously bad-mouth Aelius Sejanus and the emperor in what he thought was private. Only they'd got round Uncle's slaves beforehand and arranged for witnesses to be smuggled into his own house and hidden in the attic directly above the study. They bored holes through the ceiling panels. After that it was an open and shut case.'
There was anger in Columella's voice, and I didn't blame him. Anyone who was fool enough to slander Tiberius or Sejanus in public deserved all they got, sure, but what you said among friends – or those who professed themselves to be friends – in the privacy of your own home was something else. Sabinus had been set up with a vengeance, and 'sneaky' didn't do the thing justice. I had to hand it to Sejanus, though, and Sejanus had to be behind this. It'd been slick, very slick indeed.
'So the four reported what your uncle had said directly to the emperor,' I said. 'With the witnesses' backing.'
'Yeah.' Columella made to spit. 'The poor sod never had a chance. The senate convicted him as they'd have to do on the strength of the evidence and he was dead before the month was out.'
'Uh huh,' I said. This needed thinking about, and maybe I'd have that bath after all, when I'd left Columella. Sure, what had happened to Sabinus was interesting, but it didn't add much to what I knew already: that Sejanus had been going out of his way to target the leading Julians. So why had Felix and his sidekick been so keen to make sure I checked the story up? Which reminded me...
'You happen to know if your uncle had a couple of weird slaves?’ I said. ‘A fussy little guy going bald on top and a man-mountain that grunted?'
'Not that I know of.' Columella looked suspicious for the first time; well, I suppose that had been pushing it. 'Although like I say we didn't get on all that well, and I wasn't really on visiting terms. He might have done. You got a reason for asking?'
'No, just passing curiosity.'
'Mmm.' I could see him putting it out of what served him for a mind, and I blessed the patron god of idiots, whoever that was. 'So. Tell me about Athens. I'm thinking of going out there this summer, when Rome hots up a bit. You know any good brothels?'
I sighed. Columella always had been direct and to the point. I gave the guy a few addresses and left him to his thoughts. Such as they were.
17.
I had the bath, although it didn't get me any further forward with the Sabinus puzzle. Ah, well. At least it meant that when I got back home I was clean.
We'd just started dinner when Bathyllus brought a little fat guy into the dining room. I knew at once that something was wrong. Badly wrong. Both of them had that serious look that signals bad news.
'This is Latinius, sir,' Bathyllus said quietly. 'Flavonius Lippillus's next-door neighbour. He has a message from Marcina Paullina.'
Perilla glanced over at me, her face ashen. The fat guy was shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Even at this distance he smelled of fish. A stallholder in the market, maybe.
'Marcina asks if you'd call in at the flat as soon as you can, sir,' he said. 'Her stepson's had an accident.'
I was on my feet by now. 'He's dead?'
'No. At least not when I left. They found him near the Latin Gate, sir. He'd been attacked.' His hand gestured towards his head. 'The poor lad's in a bit of a mess.'
Oh, Jupiter! Jupiter Best and Greatest, no! First Celsus, then Lippillus. I should've gone back and warned him off, I'd known that at the time.
'Is he at home?'
'Yes, sir.' Latinius nodded. 'The men who found him took him straight round. Marcina's doing her best, but...' His voice tailed off and he shrugged.
Oh, hell! And there'd be no doctors in a city tenement. 'Bathyllus,' I snapped. 'Send for Sarpedon. Tell him to meet me at Lippillus's flat. You know where that is?'
'Yes, sir.' Sarpedon was my father's doctor, one of the best in Rome. Dad had freed him five years back, and he had a lucrative practice now near the Market Square. I just hoped he wasn't out to dinner, or on call to some society lady with a fit of the vapours.
'Thanks for coming round, pal,' I said to Latinius. 'I appreciate it.'
'That's nothing. Whatever I can do.'
'I'll fetch your cloak, sir.' That was Bathyllus.
'Bathyllus!' I was tying on my sandals. Or trying to. 'Forget the sodding cloak, just get Sarpedon! Send your fastest runner. If he's not at home then find him.'
Bathyllus left. I turned back to Latinius. 'What happened? Exactly?'
'No idea, sir. Not exactly. I'd only just got back from work myself when they brought him in. But Marcina'll tell you.'
Oh, shit! Marcina! How was I going to face Marcina? The laces of the second sandal snagged. I jerked them free and tied a rough knot. 'Okay, let's go. Perilla, don't wait up.'
'Nonsense.' She was putting her own sandals on. 'Give me a moment to get my cloak. I'm going with you.'
'Like hell you are!'
'Don't argue,' she snapped. I couldn't if I'd tried, because she was heading for the stairs. 'And don't bother with a litter, either.'
'I wasn't going to, lady,' I said to myself. Under different circumstances, I might've smiled, but now wasn't the time.
The news had spread, and we had to push our way through a crowd of locals who filled the stairwell and the first-floor landing. Maybe Lippillus was popular, but I suspected most of them were the ghouls you always get when there's an accident or a killing. In any case I wasn't too gentle. Latinius disappeared without another word through the door of his own flat opposite, but I knew he'd be keeping his eyes and ears open. Marcina was lucky. Neighbours like Latinius are good to have.
The door wasn't locked, and I didn't knock: she'd have other things to worry about than the conventional niceties. She was in the bedroom, sitt
ing beside the still figure on the double bed.
'Hello, Corvinus,' she said. She didn't look up and I couldn't see her face clearly in the light of the single lamp, but she sounded pretty washed out. When Perilla put her hands on her shoulders she never moved. 'Perilla. Good of you to come.'
'How's he doing?' I said.
'He's alive.' She shook her head. 'Otherwise I don't know. He's been like this since they found him.'
She'd cleaned his face up, that was all; his hair was caked with blood and the blanket under his head was damp and stained a dark red. His eyes were shut and his breathing was very shallow. Every so often it stopped altogether for a few seconds before restarting. Worrying as hell. Even with my slim knowledge of medicine I could see the poor guy was in deep trouble.
'I've sent for a doctor,' I said. 'He should be here soon.'
'That's nice.' Marcina still hadn't moved.
Keep safe... I winced. Lippillus was lying there with his head bashed in because of me, and we all knew it. If I could've gone back a day and changed things I would've done, gladly, but there was nothing now anyone could do. And from the looks of Lippillus that included Sarpedon.
'You know anything about how it happened?' I said quietly.
'He left this morning for headquarters as usual.' Marcina was still speaking in that terrible, level voice. She hadn't looked at either of us since we'd arrived. 'I wasn't worried when he didn't come home for dinner. That happens more often than not, although usually he sends a message. Then – I don't know when, maybe an hour ago, maybe two, maybe three – his deputy Valens came round to say he'd been picked up by two carters near the Latin Gate. He'd had them bring him straight here on a blanket.'
'Did the carters see the attack?'
Her shoulders lifted. 'Maybe. I don't know. I didn't ask. It wasn't all that important at the time. It still isn't.'
'Marcus.' Perilla's fingers touched my arm. 'Go downstairs and wait for Sarpedon. Please.'
'Uh, yeah. Yeah, okay.' Perhaps that was best. I wasn't doing any good here, anyway. I paused at the door.
'Marcina, I'm sorry,' I said. 'Terribly, terribly sorry.'
Her head didn't turn. Her voice was quite calm. 'If he dies, Corvinus,' she said, 'I'll never forgive you. Never ever. Do you understand?'
Sejanus (Marcus Corvinus Book 3) Page 12