Venus In Copper

Home > Other > Venus In Copper > Page 12
Venus In Copper Page 12

by Lindsey Davis


  Even the meal was an affair whose subtleties disturbed me: the most simple kind of Roman lunch--bread, cheese, salad, diluted wine and fruit. Yet there were flattering touches of luxury: even for three people a complete range of cheeses made from goat's, sheep's, cow's and buffalo's milk; tiny quails' eggs; refined white rolls. Even the humble radishes were cut into sprays and fantails, decorating a fabulous composition salad moulded in aspic--evidently made at home for it was turned out in front of us (with deliberate panache). Then to finish, a whole orchard of fruits.

  This was plain fare all right: plain fare as afforded by the very rich.

  Novus and Zotica seemed completely at ease together. They had a short conversation about arrangements for their wedding, the sort of short-tempered debate over avoiding unlucky dates which preoccupies most engaged couples for weeks (until they opt for some gouty aunt's birthday--only to find the old groucher is off on a cruise with a handsome young masseur to whom, without question, she will leave all her loot).

  With so much to eat there were plenty of silences. Novus in any case was a full-blooded businessman fired only by finance and totally preoccupied with work. He made no reference to being the subject of my investigation; that suited me, yet left me awkwardly deprived of a social reason for my presence. In fact Novus contributed little; mainly a few remarks from which I gathered Severina had his full confidence.

  'That shipment of mine from Sidon has arrived at last.'

  'That will be a relief to you. What held it up?'

  'Bad winds off Cyprus...'

  She passed him the potted salad. He was the sort of lump who sweated freely and frowned a lot as he ate fast and greedily. He might be thought coarse--but a woman who yearned for comforts would overlook that if his presents were generous. Severina treated him with a kind of formal respect; if she married him, her attitude would certainly work--provided she could keep up the deference (and he could keep alive).

  He was generous. He had brought his betrothed a necklace of twenty violet amethysts. He handed it over almost as a routine exercise; she received the gift with quiet pleasure; I kept my cynical thoughts to myself.

  'Falco here had a run-in this morning with a representative of Priscillus,' Severina remarked eventually.

  Novus showed his first signs of interest in me. While I chewed on an olive modestly, she described me rescuing the old fruitseller from his landlord's enforcing agent. Novus barked with laughter. 'You want to watch that! Offending Priscillus can be hazardous to health!'

  'What is he? Property tycoon?'

  'Businessman.'

  'Dirty business?'

  'Normal business.' Novus was not interested in my views on men who peddle real estate.

  Severina tackled her fiance in a thoughtful voice: 'Is Appius Priscillus getting above himself?'

  'He's collecting his rents.'

  'It seemed--'

  Novus brushed her murmur aside: 'The tenant must have been owing--you cannot be sentimental about debt.' He behaved like a man who was used to being stubborn, though he did give her an indulgent look on the word 'sentimental'. 1 knew this type: hard as a Noricum knife--yet pleased to own a fluffy kitten who would act as a conscience for him. Fair enough--provided he listened when his conscience spoke.

  Severina looked unconvinced, yet she fell silent without quarrelling. Just the sort of women to have at the lunch table: intelligent in conversation--but intelligent enough to show restraint... I began thinking about Helena Justina. When Helena had something on her mind she reckoned to make her point.

  I found Severina quietly watching me; for some reason I revived the conversation Novus had crushed. 'Is this character Priscillus making you nervous, harrying the neighbourhood?'

  The reassuring smile of a tactful hostess lit Severina's pale face. 'I take my advice from Hortensius Novus on business affairs!'

  I should have known not to waste my breath.

  As a final gesture to the Novus appetite we had cakes: just three (for it was lunch, not a banquet), but perfect gems of the pastry cook's art and elegantly displayed on a costly silver platter which Severina then presented to Novus. A gift from her to him looked as regular as her acquisition of the amethysts. It also gave him the indisputable right to lick the plate; his fat, sloppy tongue flickered over it, while I watched jealously.

  He left shortly afterwards, with his platter under his elbow but still without any acknowledgement of why I was there. Severina went out with him, which gave an impression they were exchanging kisses in private. I heard a squawk of mockery from the parrot, anyway.

  When the hostess came back I had swung myself upright on the dining couch and was giving the amethyst necklace a frank valuation, comparing its cost with her silver plate. 'I reckon Novus came out ahead financially today. That looks good, Zotica--nicely done!'

  'You're so cynical it's pitiful.'

  I stood up, and dangled the jewels from the fingers of one hand. 'Pretty--but one or two flaws which you'll soon spot. If it wasn't my job to drive a wedge between the two of you, I might warn the good Novus not to give gemstones to a girlie who has been through a lapidary's training...' She tried to take the necklace from me; I insisted on fastening it round her slender neck. 'Not quite right with blue.'

  'No; amethysts are always difficult.' She remained impervious to my attempts to rile her.

  'Time I was going.' I took both her hands in my own and bent over them gallantly. They were scented with a flowery fragrance which reminded me of the oil from the baths which Helena had taken to frequenting recently. Camomile must be the universal fragrance this month.

  On her left hand Severina wore a massive gold betrothal ring with a red jasper stone. The false symbol of fidelity: one of those travesties where two hands, very badly drawn, are clasping each other. Novus had worn an identical ring. On the matching finger of her other hand was an elderly band of copper, its front flattened into a coin-shaped boss which was scratched with a simple picture of Venus. A cheap trinket. A memento, I guessed. Not many girls wear copper rings, because of the verdigris.

  'That's pretty. From one of your husbands?'

  'No; just a friend.'

  'A man?'

  'A man,' she agreed, as I pulled down my mouth to show what I thought of women who lived without a male protector yet had followers they called 'just friends'.

  She took back her hands. 'What did you think of Novus?'

  'He's too set in his ways, and you are far too bright for him--'

  'Normal criteria for marriage!' she quipped defensively.

  'Cobnuts! How long do you intend to waste your life coddling mediocre businessmen?'

  'Better to do it while I have all my energy than later, when I may need coddling myself!'

  'Ah, but meanwhile are you really the deferential type?...' She gave me an evasive smile. 'You implied Novus wanted to discuss something. He never told me.'

  'He wanted to see if he liked you.'

  'So did I impress the man?'

  'I can tell you what he wanted, anyway. If you are going to be hanging round on hire to Pollia, there is something you could do for Novus too.'

  'Sorry,' I replied at once, suspecting some plot of her own. 'I can only work for one client at a time. But I'd be interested in hearing what he wants.'

  'Protection.'

  'Ouch! I've still got bruises; don't make me laugh, Zotica!'

  For once she lost patience. 'Must you always wield my slave-name like a Herculean club?'

  'People should acknowledge their origins--'

  'Hypocrisy!' she chipped back. 'You are a free citizen; you always were, you cannot know.'

  'Wrong, Zotica. I know poverty, hard work, and hunger. I live with disillusionment. I face sneers from both the rich and rich men's slaves. My ambitions are as far beyond my reach as they would be for any chained wretch in a filthy hutch who builds the fires in bathhouses--'

  'What ambitions?' she demanded, but things were already far too friendly for me.

&
nbsp; We were still positioned in the dining room with me about to leave, but Severina seemed to want to delay me.

  'I find I enjoy talking to you,' she grumbled. 'Is this your method of wearing people down?'

  'Letting suspects enjoy themselves never achieves much.'

  'It worries me when you're frank!'

  'Lady, it worries me!'

  Suddenly she smiled. It was a smile I had seen before in my life: the dangerous weapon of a woman who had decided we two were special friends. 'Now I shall tell you,' Severina promised, 'the real reason why I went to the astrologer, I hope it will show you why I worry about Novus.' I tipped my head on one side, preserving my neutrality. 'He has enemies, Falco. Novus has been the victim of threats--threats followed by inexplicable accidents. It started before he and I were introduced, and it has happened again recently. I consulted Tyche about the risk, with his full knowledge--in fact, on his behalf.'

  I hid a grin. She did not know I had also watched her ordering a tombstone for the hapless man. 'Who are these enemies? And what exactly have they done to him?'

  'Will you help us?'

  'I told you; I cannot divide my interests in a case.'

  'Then Novus would not want me to say any more.'

  'Your choice.'

  'What can he do?' she cried, putting on a good show of anxiety.

  'The best way to treat enemies is to make friends with them.' Severina's eyes met mine, mocking my pious advice. For an instant we shared a dangerous sense of affinity. 'All right; I admit it: the best way is to nobble them.'

  'Falco, if you won't help us, at least don't joke!'

  If she was lying she was an impressive actress.

  But I did not rule out the possibility that Severina was a liar.

  Chapter XXVII

  I spent the afternoon at the Forum, listening to the tired old rumours which the Rostrum lags were handing round as news; then I went on to my gymnasium for exercise, a bath, a shave, and to hear some real gossip. Next I devoted some attention to my private affairs: my mother and my banker. Both were trying events for the usual reasons, and also because I discovered that both people had been plagued with visits from Anacrites, the Chief Spy. His attentions were becoming a serious problem. Anacrites had made it official that Didius Falco was a jail-breaker. And when my mother had protested that she paid my surety, Anacrites snapped back that that made me a bail-jumper too.

  Ma was very upset. What annoyed me was being portrayed as unreliable to my banker. Limiting my future credit was a really dirty trick.

  By the time I had calmed my mother I felt in need of comfort myself, so I trailed along to the Capena Gate. Bad luck again: Helena was at home, but so were half her well-heeled Camillus relations; the Senator was giving an entertainment to mark the birthday of some aged aunt. The porter, who could tell from my informal get-up that I had not been favoured with an invitation, let me in solely for the pleasure of seeing me kicked out again by the people of the house.

  Helena emerged from a reception room; sedate flute music trilled behind her before she closed the door.

  'Sorry if this is an awkward time--'

  'It's something of an event,' remarked Helena coolly, 'to see you at all!'

  Things were not going well. A morning at Severina's had spoiled me for banter. I was tired; I wanted to be soothed and fussed over. Instead Helena reproached me that I might have been invited to the party if I had been on hand the night before, when her father had been arranging it. Apart from a nice impression that Camillus Verus must have forgotten his auntie's birthday until the last minute, I also glimpsed how Helena had been embarrassed by not knowing when (if ever) she might see her vague hanger-on again... 'Helena, my heart,' I apologised obsequiously, 'wherever am, you are there--'

  'Cheap philosophy!'

  'Cheap, therefore simple, simple therefore true!'

  Cheap meant simply unconvincing. She folded her arms. 'Falco, I am a woman, so I expect my loyalty to be taken for granted. I know my place is to wait until you roll home drunk or hurt or both--'

  I folded my own arms the way one does, unconsciously imitating her. A lurid bruise just below one elbow must have become visible. 'Helena, I am not drunk.'

  'You've taken some knocks!'

  'I'm all right. Look, don't fight. I'm deeply involved in my case now; I have all the trouble I can handle--'

  'Oh I forgot--' she scoffed. 'You are a man! The mildest criticism brings out the worst in you--'

  Sometimes I did wonder what I thought I had been doing letting myself be smitten by an outspoken termagant with no sense of timing. Since I was off duty, and probably off guard, I allowed myself to mention this, then added a highly rhetorical description of her ladyship's hasty tongue, hot temper--and complete lack of faith in me.

  There was a small silence. 'Marcus, tell me where you have been.'

  'Nose to nose with the Hortensius gold-digger.'

  'Yes,' Helena answered sadly. 'I thought that must be it.'

  Her tone implied she had been moping. I took a critical look at her: Helena's idea of moping was to throw on a vivid carmine dress, adorn her hair with a rope of glass beads like a crown of hyacinths, then courageously enjoy herself in company. I was about to respond with some crabby badinage, when a young man stepped out from the party room. In honour of the Senator's aunt's birthday he wore a toga whose luxurious nap rebuked the worn shine of my in workaday tunic. His haircut was crisp; a shiny wreath was parked on it. He had the sort of clean-cut aristocratic looks most women call attractive, even though the effect was simply due to phenomenal arrogance.

  He expected Helena to introduce us. I knew better; she was too annoyed at his interruption. I beamed at him tolerantly. 'Evening. One of the family?'

  'A friend of my brothers,' Helena interposed, recovering rapidly. The aristo looked quizzical at my plebian presence, but she gave him his orders with her usual forcefulness. 'Falco and I were discussing business, if you don't mind.'

  Quelled, he returned to the reception room.

  I winked at Helena. 'Friend of your brothers, eh?'

  'It's an elderly gathering; my parents provided him to talk to me. You were inaccessible.

  'Just as well, sweetheart. They would not have wanted me.'

  'Falco, I might have wanted you.'

  'You seem to be making do.'

  'I have to!' she accused me hotly. 'Anyway, father would have asked you, but who knows where you are living now?'

  I told her my new address. She returned graciously that now her father would be able to send the cast-off couch they had promised me. 'Father was trying to contact you urgently yesterday. He had been approached by Anacrites.'

  I swore. 'The man's a complete pest!'

  'You will have to do something about it, Marcus. With him hounding you, how can you do your work?'

  'I'll deal with it.'

  'Promise?'

  'Yes. Life's becoming impossible.'

  I returned to the issue of my new address: 'I'm living in two rooms and another will be the office; that leaves one which could quite easily become yours. You know what I want-'

  'A tolerant housekeeper, a free bedmate--and someone brave to catch the crawlies who scuttle out of the floorboards!--No; that's wrong,' Helena corrected herself.

  'Someone timid who will let you batter the insects and look tough!'

  Well the offer stays open, but I don't intend to remind you again.' She knew it; pleading for her attention was not my style. 'Your noble pa will want you at his party; I'd better go'

  Helena reacted with her customary snootiness: 'So you had.' She relented: 'Are you coming again?'

  'When I can,' I answered, accepting the weaker note in her voice as the nearest I would get to an apology. 'I just have a lot to think about. But now I've met the woman, it ought not to be beyond me to sort it all out pretty smartly.'

  'Do you mean you won't come until the case is over?'

  'That sounds like a brush-off.'

  Helena
stuck out her chin. 'I'm getting the brush-off. It was a sensible suggestion.'

  My teeth set. 'Gods, I hate sensible women! You decide. I'll come if you ask me. Whenever you want me you know where to find me.'

  I waited for her to dissuade me, but Helena Justina was as obstinate as me. It was not the first time we had driven ourselves into some pointless deadlock.

  I was leaving. She was letting me. 'Io, my darling! What I really need is a girl to stay at home and take messages!'

  'You can't afford to pay her,' Helena said.

  Chapter XXVIII

  Boasting that I would settle the case quickly had been rash. The case was nowhere near its end yet. In fact it was only just beginning, as I would soon find out.

  As I sloped off home I was thinking less about work than about women. A normal preoccupation--though weighing on me more heavily tonight. My clients, Severina, my ladylove, my mother, all had designs on my peace of mind. Even my sister Maia, whom I had still not seen since Ma sprung me out of prison, loomed as a subject of guilt because I had not yet made any attempt to thank her for rescuing the betting tags which financed my new apartment... It was all getting beyond me. I needed to take action; the best kind of action, which is nothing at all: I had to stand back, give myself a breather, and let the ladies gently mull.

  I planned to spend the next three days devoting myself to my own pleasure and profit. I even managed it for two of the days: not a bad success rate for a plan of mine.

  First I spent a morning in bed, thinking.

  Then, as I still officially worked for the Emperor (since I had never bothered to inform him otherwise) I went to the Palatine and applied to see Vespasian. I hung around the labyrinth of Palace offices for a whole afternoon before a flunkey deigned to tell me that Vespasian was away, enjoying a summer holiday in the Sabine hills. Now that he wore the purple, the old man liked to remind himself of his humble roots by kicking off the Imperial sandals and wriggling his toes in the dust of his old family estates.

 

‹ Prev