Foreign Bodies

by David Wishart

  Never a truer word was spoken. No mention of Crinas, either, but I didn’t feel inclined to push things in that direction. Bathyllus came round to me and offered the tray with a single cup of wine on it. I took it and sipped. Bugger! We were back to the watered-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life stuff; obviously our major-domo was still in profoundly miffed mode, or – equally likely – he wasn’t risking being found out by Perilla and roasted over a slow fire. Ah, well.

  Now for the bad news. This I was not looking forward to.

  ‘We’re going to have to go to Augusta,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ She was staring at me.

  ‘Yeah, I know. There are still avenues to explore here, no arguments. But the real answer to all this is up north; I can feel it in my water.’

  ‘Marcus, that is almost four hundred miles!’

  ‘That far, eh?’

  ‘Of course that far!’

  Hell; another half-month of thumb-twiddling; still, it couldn’t be helped, unless I did it alone and on horseback, and just the thought of what would be involved in that made me queasy. ‘There’s something screwy going on re whatever happened there involving the family twenty years ago,’ I said. ‘I’ve brought the subject up twice now, first with Diligenta and then with Brother Quintus, and they both reacted like a cat on hot bricks. I’m not going to find out any other way, so Augusta it has to be.’ I took a swallow of the wine. What there was of it, versus the water. ‘Look on the bright side, lady. At least it’ll let us see a bit more of the country.’

  ‘Quite a bit more. Four hundred miles’ worth; double that, counting the return trip. You’re sure the journey’s necessary?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, then! For goodness’ sake!’

  ‘The main thing is that I don’t know for sure that it isn’t necessary. And if that sounds crazy, then tough. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.’

  ‘Really, dear. Be serious.’

  ‘At least we’ll be travelling in style again, Nerva will see to that. I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow morning.’

  ‘And you’re absolutely certain that everything else can wait?’

  ‘No, just that going to Augusta’s more important at present, and it has to be done in any case. Oh, sure, we’ve got the Vindus side of things to look into, for a start, I’m perfectly well aware of that. And there’s some unfinished business with young Titus.’ I told her about the interview with Aia and the subsequent one with the lad himself. ‘He’s covering up for something, or trying to, that’s pretty obvious; whether it’s direct involvement in the murder or not, I don’t know, although I doubt it. On the other hand, I can still easily see the girlfriend as the killer, and he seems pretty stuck on her, so perhaps I’m wrong.’

  ‘He wouldn’t help her to kill his own father, surely? Not even if he was completely infatuated with the girl.’

  ‘Perilla, we don’t know all the circumstances, OK? Maybe she didn’t tell him what she was planning, and he only found out after the event. Maybe she suckered him into helping without him knowing what he was getting into until it was too late, and now he’s caught with nowhere else to go. There could be half a dozen explanations.’

  ‘So what do you expect to find out in Augusta?’

  ‘If I could tell you that, we wouldn’t need to go. But it’s got something to do with the Florus revolt. And I think Diligenta’s brother is mixed up in it somewhere, too.’

  ‘I didn’t know she had a brother.’

  ‘She doesn’t, in effect. Not any more. But she did, twenty years ago.’

  ‘Marcus, dear, you’re not making sense.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. My brain’s not working properly.’ I held up the wine-cup. ‘Could be something to do with the lack of fuel.’

  ‘I’m sure abstinence is doing you the world of good.’

  ‘Hah. Anyway, she also has a sister; that’s “has”, present tense. Name of Quadrunia. She still lives in Augusta, apparently, although the two of them haven’t had any contact since Diligenta left, and there seems to be bad blood between the two parts of the family. Which is basically the reason I need to go, because six gets you ten that whatever caused it is important. Neither Diligenta nor Quintus is likely to tell me, so Augusta and Quadrunia it is.’

  ‘Can’t you leave it for the present? We’ve only just arrived, for heaven’s sake, and you said yourself there’s this Vindus aspect of things to explore.’

  ‘We’ll be back, maybe inside of a month if we’re lucky—’

  ‘What? Marcus, if you think I’m going to—’

  ‘—and neither Vindus nor his uncle are going anywhere in the meantime. In any case, Nerva will want some time to make the travel arrangements. You can’t expect him to do that at five minutes’ notice, so we’ll have some slack, at least.’ I looked round: Bathyllus had slid in and was standing waiting. Obviously a Communication. ‘Yes, sunshine, what is it?’

  ‘You have a visitor, sir. Titus Cabirus.’

  Hey! Speak of the devil! ‘Bring him in.’

  He exited, reappeared with the lad himself, bowed, and made himself scarce.

  ‘Corvinus,’ Titus said stiffly, and nodded to Perilla, who was still looking frosty as hell. ‘Madam.’

  ‘Pull up a chair,’ I said.

  ‘No, this won’t take long.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve talked it over with Aia, as you suggested, and we decided it would be best for me to apologize and explain. On the clear understanding that what I say goes no further.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Agreed.’

  He glanced at Perilla again. ‘It’s … rather personal and private. Perhaps your wife would like to leave us alone?’

  ‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘I think the lady’s pretty much unshockable.’

  ‘Not as of five minutes ago, I’m not.’ Perilla shot me a look straight off a glacier. I winced. ‘None the less. Do carry on, Titus Cabirus.’

  ‘Well, then.’ Another nervous glance and throat-clearing. ‘We were—’ He stopped, took a deep breath and started again. ‘Aia has a friend in town called Vesca; she’s a lady’s maid with a family near the Western Gate. Vesca had told her that the family – all of them, including her – were going away for a few days, and the house would be empty.’

  Uh-huh; I was there ahead of him. ‘So you thought you’d make use of it?’ I said.

  ‘With Vesca’s knowledge.’ He was blushing.

  ‘But not the family’s.’

  ‘No.’ He swallowed. ‘It was the first time, you see. For both of us. We wanted it to be special. Vesca would leave the back door unlocked, and of course we promised we’d leave everything as we found it. Which we did.’

  I was grinning. ‘That’s not so very terrible, pal,’ I said. ‘Why not tell me in the first place?’

  ‘But I couldn’t do that! Of course I couldn’t! There was Vesca, for a start. If her mistress found out she’d be in dreadful trouble; she’d certainly lose her job. And you know already that we hadn’t even told our parents that we were friends, let alone—’ He stopped again. ‘So it had to be a secret. A complete secret. It still does.’

  ‘I’ll have to check with this Vesca,’ I said. ‘You do realize that, don’t you? It’s important.’

  ‘We’ve thought of that, Aia and me. She could get her to come here, confirm the arrangement, on oath if you like. I’d rather that than have you go round to the house.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it still wouldn’t be proof that you actually took up the offer, would it? After all, you said yourself that she wasn’t there at the time and you didn’t leave any traces.’

  ‘Corvinus, please! It’s the absolute truth! I’ll swear to it myself, if you want, but that’s all I can do.’

  I shrugged: the kid had a point, and he was clearly desperate. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Get the girl to call round, tell me her side of the story in person, and we’ll take it from there.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He took another deep breath. ‘That’s all
I wanted to say. And you’re right; I should’ve told you before.’

  He left.

  ‘Well, Marcus?’ Perilla said. ‘Do you believe him?’

  At least the frostiness had gone, for the time being, anyway. ‘He seemed genuine enough,’ I said. ‘Certainly the explanation was plausible. Even so, as an alibi it’s got more holes than a sieve. Oh, sure, no doubt this Vesca will swear that the arrangement was made all right, but that’s all she can do because it’s all she knows. The two of them might even have set the whole thing up beforehand so that if they were rumbled – as they have been – they’d have some sort of comeback. If so, then it’s pretty clever. I’d put it down to Aia, myself. She’s obviously the brains of the partnership.’

  ‘You have a very suspicious mind, dear.’

  ‘Granted. But then there’s what Publius said. Or didn’t say, rather.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘That he hadn’t seen anyone in the garden, when the chances were that he had. And he definitely got twitchy when he thought I was implying he might’ve seen his brother. Like it or not, lady, that’s a sticking point.’

  ‘You haven’t considered that he might simply be telling the truth? Even if he was awake and sitting at the work-table?’

  ‘Of course I have. I said at the time: the kid’s an obsessive geek. Half the town could’ve been in and out of that summer house and he still might not have noticed. Even so.’ I downed the last of the water–wine mix. ‘Ah, hell. Leave it. It’ll work itself out sooner or later.’

  Bathyllus buttled in.

  ‘Dinner, sir. Madam. If you’d care to come through.’

  We did. Tomorrow could wait, and I still had to break the glad news to Nerva. Which wasn’t, I had to admit, something I was particularly looking forward to.

  I was round at the provincial governor’s offices first thing the next morning.

  ‘You want to go to Augusta?’ Nerva said when I told him. ‘Why on earth would you want to do that?’

  ‘Just covering the angles,’ I said. ‘Is it possible?’

  ‘Of course it’s possible.’ He frowned; however much he was trying to hide it, the guy was well and truly pissed off, which in the circumstances was understandable. ‘Anything is possible.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’m sorry, pal, but I need to talk to someone else in Cabirus’s family. His sister-in-law, to be exact. A woman called Quadrunia.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure where that part of it’s concerned Governor Hister will give you every facility. Or rather his aide will. I’ve met him a couple of times, a man by the name of Saenius Balbinus. He’s a nice enough chap, and very efficient. Caninia will be disappointed, though; she’s really enjoyed showing your wife around, and a little excitement goes a long way here. How long were you planning to stay?’

  ‘Not long, provided everything goes according to plan. Possibly only a day or so.’

  He just looked at me. ‘You’re joking,’ he said.

  ‘No. A day or so should just about cover it.’

  I could see him mentally counting to ten, gritting his teeth while he did it.

  ‘Corvinus, you do realize just how far away from here Augusta is, don’t you?’ he said at last.

  ‘Uh … yeah. Or rather, Perilla does. About four hundred miles, right?’

  ‘More or less, yes.’

  ‘There you go, then.’

  He sighed. ‘Very well. You have the emperor’s personal authorization, so if you really want to go there and then come right back then that’s your privilege, and I’m duty bound to facilitate things. Leave it with me. I’ll send a rider straight away to make sure you’re expected, in Augusta itself and at the points en route.’

  ‘Hey, that’s no problem,’ I said. ‘We can take pot luck. I’m sure everything’ll be fine.’

  He closed his eyes, briefly. ‘Read my lips, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘You are a ranking imperial procurator, appointed directly by the emperor. If my governor discovered that I’d simply waved you off on a four-hundred-mile trip without making thorough arrangements beforehand he would quite rightly have my guts for garters. And when you arrived at the other end – if you arrived at the other end – unlooked for and unannounced, Balbinus – let alone Governor Hister – would have an apoplexy. I’d be very lucky if my next posting, effective immediately, wasn’t to Mauretania. There’s such a thing as protocol, and it’s not a discardable option. You understand?’

  ‘Ah … yeah. Look, I’m sorry, Nerva.’

  ‘Not as sorry as I am, considering what’s involved.’

  ‘That tricky, eh?’

  ‘More than you can possibly know. Still, Procurator Laco is going up there himself in a few days’ time. Maybe I can patch you in with him. For the outward journey, at least. Fortunately, getting you back isn’t my concern.’

  Oh, hell; spending half of a month travelling in the company of that dried fish wasn’t exactly a pleasant prospect. Even so, I wasn’t about to raise any objections at this point.

  ‘Fine by me,’ I said. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘It’d certainly simplify things a lot.’ Actually, he was looking a bit brighter: problem, evidently, if not solved then at least mitigated. ‘And you’d have company on the road. Besides Laco’s, I mean.’

  ‘Yeah? How’s that?’

  ‘It’s clear you’re no traveller, Corvinus. Gaul’s pretty safe where bandits are concerned, on the main roads, anyway, but it’s still best to travel in a group when you can. Laco has his guard – that’s what they’re there for – so there’ll be one or two other people, individuals who happen to be going the same way. In any case’ – he stood up – ‘leave things with me. I’ll let you know for definite tomorrow at the latest, but plan for four days’ time. Fair enough?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I said.

  Yeah, well, it would have to be, wouldn’t it? Still, I only had myself to blame this time round.

  ELEVEN

  Nerva was as good as his word, and got back to us early the next morning: with Laco’s party, leaving in another three days’ time, it was. Which meant I had a chance to follow up the Julius Vindus side of things. If my squaddie pal on the gate had had it right, he should be back from his assignment by now.

  After Nerva had been and gone, I went down to the procurator’s offices. There were a couple of new lads on duty this time, and they didn’t know anything about Vindus’s whereabouts, but I went inside and found the clerk who’d helped me out with the duty roster the day before.

  ‘Uh … Largus, wasn’t it?’ I said.

  ‘Yes indeed, sir.’ He beamed. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘I was looking for a Julius Vindus. You happen to know where I can find him?’

  ‘Of course, sir. He’s the duty officer this morning. You wanted to talk to him?’

  ‘Yeah, if that’s possible.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll have him temporarily relieved and send him to you. If you’d care to use the procurator’s private office? Procurator Laco is out at the moment, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘That’d be great. Thanks.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Follow me, please.’

  We went upstairs and he showed me into a very plush office with cedar-panelled walls, a desk you could’ve sat a dozen people round, easy, and a bust of Claudius staring at me disapprovingly from a pedestal. Luckily, there was also a small table to one side with a set of Gallic wickerwork chairs. I pulled up one of these and sat down to wait.

  The guy arrived ten minutes later. Mid- to late-twenties, good-looking in an all-teeth-and-hair-oil way, impeccably uniformed and cocky as hell. There are some people you just know are going to get up your nose before they’ve even opened their mouths. For me, Julius Vindus was there with the best of them.

  ‘Valerius Corvinus?’ he said. ‘You wanted to see me?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I indicated one of the other chairs. ‘Take a seat, pal.’

  He did. ‘What’s this about? Oh, I know who you are, of course
, but I can’t see how I can be any help to you.’

  ‘Tell me about Claudilla.’

  He blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘Claudius Cabirus’s daughter. You got her pregnant, didn’t you?’

  He half-rose. ‘Now look here …’

  ‘Just sit down and answer the question. Mind you, to be fair, it was rhetorical because I know damn well that you did.’

  He sat again, slowly. ‘And just how the hell do you know?’ he said.

  ‘Never mind that. Just give me the story.’

  ‘You want the sordid details?’ He grinned. ‘Come on, Corvinus! You’re a married man, so surely you can work the mechanics of it out for yourself. Or is it prurient interest?’

  ‘She’s what, fourteen? She can’t be any older. Half your age, or thereabouts.’

  ‘Old enough to marry, legally. Both here and in Rome. Or am I wrong?’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s the point, isn’t it?’ I crossed my legs and folded my arms to stop myself reaching over and flattening the bastard. ‘I don’t think you have marriage in mind. Do you?’

  ‘That’s my business.’

  I shook my head. ‘Uh-uh. It would be, if her father hadn’t been murdered a couple of months back. But he was, and that makes it mine, too.’

  For the first time, the cockiness slipped. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he said.

  ‘Let me give you a scenario. Correct me if I go adrift, OK?’ I shifted in the chair. ‘You’re a friend of the family through the girl’s brother, so you have the entrée. You butter her up, speak sweet nothings in her ear and seduce her. She finds herself pregnant and confesses the whole thing to her mother, who in turn tells her father. Like you said, fourteen’s a legal marriageable age for a girl, at least technically, so he buttonholes you, or maybe your uncle, who’s also your guardian, and tells you or him he expects you to do the honest thing. Only that’s not on, is it? Certainly not with your Uncle Oppianus, who views the family socially as just one step up from pond life. So at the earliest opportunity he, or more probably you, solves the problem by shoving a knife into the guy while he’s taking his afternoon nap. What do you think? Possible?’