Old Bones (Marcus Corvinus Book 5)

by David Wishart

  Nevertheless, I'd be there the next day when he took Papatius. I owed my conscience that, at least.

  10.

  I was down at the wineshop bright and early, although I didn't go in. Aternius turned up eventually, with two big bruisers in tow. He gave me a look that was about as far the wrong side of friendly as you can get.

  'Valerius Corvinus,' he said. 'I'm surprised to see you here.'

  I shrugged. 'Just dropping in for a breakfast cup of wine, pal. Don't mind me. You go ahead if you feel you have to.'

  I stood aside to let him pass. He signalled to the bruisers and pushed open the door. I followed them inside.

  It was too early for customers. Papatius was sitting at the table over his breakfast porridge, Thupeltha was frying a couple of eggs on the stove. She looked up, saw me and her eyes widened.

  Papatius put his spoon down slowly. He didn't say anything, but then it was pretty obvious we hadn't come for social chit-chat.

  'Larth Papatius,' Aternius said. 'My name is Gaius Aternius. I am taking you to Caere to answer questions concerning the deaths of Attus Navius and Publius Salvius Hilarion. You'll come with me now, please.'

  Jupiter, the guy was fast! I didn't even have time to blink before he was out of his chair and half way across the room. I'd thought he was making for the door, but his hands reached for Aternius's throat.

  Aternius took a step to the side and coolly planted a smacker behind the guy's ear. Papatius went down like a poleaxed ox and the two bruisers were on him in a second. They weren't gentle, either.

  I had to admit as arrests went it was pretty slick. Mind you, I might've expected that Smooth-Chops would be able to handle himself. It went with the image. Sickening.

  The bruisers had lifted Papatius up and were dusting him down. If that's what you'd term covertly beating the living shit out of someone.

  'You think maybe that's enough, boys?' I said mildly. 'I'd say at a guess the guy's pretty well restrained.'

  They looked at me, then at Aternius. He nodded. They stepped back, although they kept a grip on Papatius's arms.

  Thupeltha hadn't moved. I'd thought she might've slammed one of us with the egg pan or screamed abuse, but she didn't. She didn't say anything at all.

  'This is your doing.' Papatius was glaring at me. He was crouched over –one of the big boys had kneed him in the balls – and bleeding from a split lip. 'Why don't you mind your own fucking business?'

  'Detection of murder is every honest man's business,' Aternius said. 'I'm very grateful to Valerius Corvinus.'

  Papatius spat out a tooth. 'I had nothing to do with it. And who's this Salvius Hilarion?'

  'A doctor,' I said. 'He was killed yesterday afternoon.'

  'I was picking grapes all yesterday afternoon. You saw me come in yourself.'

  'I only saw the one bunch, pal. To be absolutely truthful.'

  'I packed the rest in sawdust to take in to Rome today! Holy Jupiter, you can check if you like! They're in the wagon round the side!'

  I looked at Aternius. He didn't bat an eyelid. 'You could've picked them at any time,' he said.

  The big guy scowled. 'You don't know much about the fresh fruit business. Rome's twenty-five miles away and that's a twelve hour drive already. You don't pick until you're ready to transport, not when you're talking prime table quality. The profit margin may be bigger when you sell at city prices but so's the competition.'

  'Man's got a point,' I said. 'Me, I'd check.'

  'I don't need to. I'm sure they're there right enough, although perhaps not quite as fresh as he claims.' Aternius smiled at me and turned back to Papatius. 'Also that you're sufficiently clever to have arranged an alibi in advance. And in any case, you certainly killed Navius. You were seen following him.'

  'For the gods' sakes! I was on my way to Caere! I told that to your tame purple-striper monkey here!'

  Ouch.

  'Fine,' Aternius said. 'Just give me the name of someone who can vouch for the fact of your presence there and when we've confirmed your claim you'll be released with my apologies.' He waited; Papatius said nothing. 'Precisely. Take him away.'

  The big boys hustled the guy out. Aternius turned at the door.

  'I'm sorry we don't see eye to eye on this, Corvinus,' he said. 'However, I do thank you most sincerely for your help. You have my admiration, and my congratulations. We'll meet again soon, no doubt, and I hope in more congenial circumstances.'

  Then he was gone. I was left facing Thupeltha across the kitchen table. She was still holding the frying pan. She put it down and without a word calmly poured two cups of wine from the jug on the dresser.

  'I'm sorry about this,' I said. 'It wasn't my idea.'

  She handed me one of the cups and sat down. 'He didn't do it,' she said.

  'You sure of that?'

  No answer; Thupeltha just sipped her own wine.

  'Did he go to Caere? Like he said?'

  'I don't know. He might've done. It's what he told me, too, when you left yesterday.'

  I took a swallow. 'Okay,' I said. 'So we start fresh. Level with me and I'll do what I can.'

  'I've told you the truth. All the truth. I can't tell you any more.'

  I wouldn't've bet on that, but I let it go. Now wasn't the time. 'Let's have it again,' I said. 'Just to check.'

  She set the cup down. 'I arranged to meet Clusinus at the oak grove mid-morning. I set out from here early, like I told you –'

  'Papatius was here? He knew where you were going?'

  'He knew. Or he knew about Clusinus, anyway. He was in the yard round the side, boiling up pitch for the wine jars. He saw me go, but he didn't say anything.'

  'Then?'

  'I went to the grove. I was looking round, like I told you, when Navius showed up. I hadn't known he was following me, and he took me by surprise. We had an argument. I told him my decision stood – the affair'd been over for almost a month – and he tried to make me change my mind.'

  'Did he know about Clusinus too?'

  'Not from me. But he'd guessed it from where we were. And Clusinus has had other girlfriends in the past.'

  'How did he take it?'

  Thupeltha shrugged. 'How do you think? He wasn't exactly happy. He threatened that if I didn't agree to divorce Larth and marry him he'd tell everyone we'd been screwing and I'd passed him up for Clusinus. Then when I still refused he drew his knife and told me he'd kill himself. I laughed and told him not to be a fool. He ran off. I waited around for Clusinus, and when he didn't come I went home. End of story.'

  'You didn't see Papatius? At any time?'

  'No. He wasn't there when I got back, either, but that wasn't unusual.'

  'What about the pitch?'

  She looked at me blankly. 'What?'

  'You said he was boiling pitch for the wine jars. He'd just left it?'

  She was frowning now. 'Yes. The fire had gone out.'

  'What about the wine jars? Were they done?'

  Thupeltha stood up. 'Corvinus, leave me alone, okay? I'm sick of questions and I'm sick of you. Just go away and don't come back.'

  What else could I do? I left.

  Perilla would be gone into Caere by now with Nepos and Priscus to act as the family rep at Hilarion's funeral, and she'd taken Marilla with her, so I had the rest of the day to myself. I'd thought carefully about what was the best way to spend it and I'd decided on a walk round Vetuliscum, calling in on the locals I hadn't met yet: Nepos's pal Arruns, for a start, the Gruesomes' brother Vipena, maybe even Navius's mother if I had the nerve. Vesia...

  And Clusinus. There was one guy I really had to meet.

  I could check out that track in the hills, too. That seemed to be figuring quite a lot, and I'd only seen the stretch at Clusinus's end.

  Outside the wineshop, I turned towards Nepos's. The road up to Arruns's place would be the one on the right after Mamilius's farmhouse, before the bridge.

  That little scene with Papatius, and the talk with Thupeltha, had been
interesting. The guy was lying about going to Caere, that was certain: Aternius had been quite right about that, and he'd handled it well. If you're facing a murder rap and someone asks you for a name to prove you were where you said you were you don't mess around, and if Papatius wouldn't give one the obvious implication was that he couldn't. On the other hand he'd gone somewhere, in a hell of a hurry: farmers don't up sticks and leave jobs half done without good reason, especially this time of year when they're working to a tight schedule. And he hadn't told Thupeltha, either: she'd got the point about the pitch, sure she had, and it had rocked her. That's the problem with these open marriages: you get used to knowing everything, and when one partner holds out it's worse than if they've been cheating all along.

  So what was Papatius doing that was so bad he wouldn't even admit it to his wife? Scratch the obvious: Thupeltha had already told me that the guy had no interest in sex, and in her position she couldn't well complain anyway. Taken with the fact that the Gruesomes had definitely seen him following Navius, plus his own Caere story, the only alternative was the one we'd started with: that Papatius had secretly gone up Clusinus's track after Navius and his wife, listened in to the argument at the grove, followed the guy and murdered him. In which case, the bastard being already in the hands of the law, finish, end of story...

  Only why should Papatius follow his wife at all? He already knew about Clusinus and presumably he didn't care if the couple were meeting. And as for Navius, he knew the guy was a spent coin who didn't matter any more.

  Unless he thought Navius meant to cause trouble, as indeed the guy did; in which case we were back to square one, with Papatius as the killer...

  Shit. My head was going round. What I needed was wine. I should've brought a travelling flask and filled it up at Thupeltha's before she threw me out.

  Someone shouted. I looked up. I was passing Mamilius's place, and the old guy was out in the yard in front pitching wine jars: it seemed that was the in job at the moment, although that was hardly surprising with the main grape harvest coming up. There was another man with him, maybe one of the 'lads' he'd mentioned buying thirty years back.

  'Hey, Corvinus!' he said. 'Out for a stroll?'

  'Yeah.' I went over. 'How's it going, pal?'

  He put down the pitch brush and wiped the worst of the muck off his hands with a scrap of rag. 'Time for a cup of wine?'

  There are gods after all, and sometimes they listen. 'Sure,' I said.

  'Good. I could do with a break. This is my son Decimus. Say hello to Marcus Corvinus, Decimus. Nicely, now.'

  The other guy – he was fifty, easy, but built like a barn door – raised his eyes from the jar he was working on and the hairs rose on the back of my neck.

  'Urrrgguu,' he said, and held out a hand like a tile.

  It took all the nerve I had to take it and give it the shake he was waiting for. 'Uh, hi, Decimus,' I said. 'Doing all right?'

  No answer. I reckoned Decimus had given his all already.

  'We'll go up to the terrace.' Mamilius threw down the rag. 'You manage on your own for a bit, lad?'

  The guy turned back to the pitch bucket. I followed Mamilius up the terrace steps.

  'Sit yourself down, Corvinus,' he said. 'I'll bring the jug.'

  'Fine.' There were two rickety basketwork chairs next to a plank table. I pulled one up and sat on it.

  Mamilius came back with a plate of sliced cheese, a wine jug and two cups. 'It's not Papatius's, but it's drinkable,' he said. 'The cheese is mine as well. I keep some sheep up in the hills.' He poured. 'Your health.'

  'Health.' I took a swallow. He was right: Papatius's had it beat six ways from nothing, but it was a good swigging wine. And like I said it came as the answer to a prayer. The cheese was good, too.

  Mamilius lowered himself into the other chair, slowly: the old bugger might be fit as a flea and tough as boiled leather, but he was still ninety or as close as dammit and I'd bet he didn't bend as well as he used to. 'So,' he said. 'How's the investigation coming?'

  'They've arrested Papatius.'

  He gave me a sharp look. 'They've done what?'

  'Less than an hour ago. Nothing to do with me. A guy called Gaius Aternius.'

  'The lawyer? Quintus Cominius's nephew?' Mamilius's lips twisted and he spat.

  I grinned. Mamilius clearly didn't have much time for Smooth-Chops either. 'You don't think Papatius did it?'

  He picked up his wine cup and put it to his lips. The Adam's-apple bobbed up and down in his scrawny throat. Finally he put down the empty cup, wiped his mouth and reached for the jug. 'I know nothing about anything,' he said, 'but for what it's worth I don't think the killer was Larth Papatius. Especially with that doctor friend of your stepfather's dead.'

  'You heard about that?'

  'The whole of Vetuliscum knew an hour after the body was found. Aye, I heard about it.'

  'Okay. So if not Papatius then who?'

  Mamilius shrugged. 'Jupiter knows, and personally I couldn't care less. When you get to my age death isn't so important any more.'

  Yeah, well, I supposed he had a point. He had to be less than a shuffle away from the urn himself, and legionary First Spears aren't exactly renowned for their sensitivity. We sat in silence drinking our wine.

  Finally he nodded towards the yard.

  'He's a good lad, Decimus,' he said. 'Slow, of course, but he's willing and he does what he's told. His mother died twenty-seven years back this Winter Festival. He idolised her.'

  'Yeah?' I looked down at Decimus. The guy was heaving the heavy wine jars around like they weighed nothing at all, and my balls shrank. Slow. Not the word I'd've used, but he was the old bugger's son, after all. Insanity's the one thing I can't take. If I ever go that way myself I hope they'll have the grace to slit my wrists. 'He the only one you've got?'

  Mamilius hesitated, then picked up the wine jug and refilled our winecups. 'I had a granddaughter,' he said. 'Not Decimus's; she belonged to my other son, Sextus. He was an optio with my old legion in Germany.'

  'Is that right, now?'

  'He was married to a local girl. Not officially, of course, you can't do that in the Eagles, but that was what it amounted to.' He emptied his cup and poured again. I didn't say a word. 'They caught the fever, both of them, and died of it. Mamilia survived. She was eighteen months. That was sixteen years ago.' Cup, mouth, jug. He wasn't looking at me now; he could've been talking to himself. I didn't dare breathe. 'She'd nowhere else to go so she came here. Lived here with Decimus and me until just under two years back. Then she died.' He sank half the cupful of wine and topped it up again, then sat staring blankly into space. I waited. 'You asked me about Attus Navius, Corvinus. I'll tell you. I hope the bastard's frying in hell.'

  11.

  I left Mamilius drinking his way down the jug –not that it seemed to be having much effect on him – and carried on up the road towards Arruns's turnoff. Shit, this was getting complicated. For a guy only just turned twenty Attus Navius had had a real talent for making enemies. Mamilius hadn't said how his granddaughter had died, but from what I knew already of the lad's reputation I could make a good guess. I just wondered what little goodies Larcius Arruns had in store for me. If I was really unlucky he'd admit to harbouring deep, implacable feelings of hatred towards the kid ever since he'd caught him apple-scrumping.

  I spotted Arruns almost straight off. He was fifty yards over to the left of the track at the edge of a field of cabbages, waist-deep in a ditch and hacking away with a spade. I went on over. He glanced up, then put his head back down and carried on with what he was doing.

  'Excuse me, Granddad,' I said when it was rapidly becoming clear that a view of his bald patch was all the guy was going to give me. 'Your name Larcius Arruns?'

  The man's chin came up. He lowered the spade slowly and stood glaring.

  'Who wants to know?' he said.

  I'd expected a hick accent, but there were good vowels there. I remembered what Nepos had said about t
he guy coming from an old family. He wasn't as ancient as Mamilius, nowhere near, but he was no chicken all the same: I'd guess sixty, sixty-five. And he'd been a strong man in his day. The muscles and sinews on his naked chest and arms stood out like cords.

  'The name's Corvinus,' I said. 'Marcus Valerius Corvinus. I'm staying at Gnaeus Lentulus's place down the Caere road.'

  Arruns cleared his throat and spat into the ditch. 'So,' he said. 'Another Roman. Why can't you bastards all just go to hell where you belong and leave us in peace?'

  Jupiter on wheels! 'Uh, yeah.' I stepped back a pace. 'Right.' And I love you too, sunshine, I thought. Well, I could see already what Nepos had meant. Friendly, welcoming and accommodating were three things this bugger wasn't. 'My mother and stepfather are staying with your neighbour Licinius Nepos.'

  Arruns's brows went down. 'Neighbour? He's no neighbour of mine.' He looked away and jabbed savagely with the spade at the earth in the bottom of the ditch. 'The man's a damned parvenu. He's only been here five minutes and he's telling me I can't use my own bloody water. Romans!' He straightened suddenly and pitched the shovelful of dirt over the side of the ditch. Half of it landed on my sandals; no accident, either.

  This was going to be a tough one. Still, there was no point putting things off. 'I don't suppose you'd maybe consider taking a break and talking to me for a bit, sir?' I said in my politest voice. 'About Attus Navius?'

  The spade paused in mid stroke and Arruns looked up sharply.

  'Navius? What's your business with Navius?'

  'My stepfather found his body. I'm, ah, investigating the death.'

  'Are you, now?' He gave me a long considering look. You could've used the set of his mouth to pick locks with, but I thought I could see a faint twinkle in his eye. 'All right. Ask away. But I've got work to do. These ditches don't clear themselves and the rains're coming. There's a mattock over there; give me a hand and I'll talk all you like. Deal?'

  Hell. Purple stripers don't do manual work; it's in the Twelve Tables. Still, I was being called, and I knew it. Also that if I backed off I could kiss whatever co-operation the old bugger was willing to give me goodbye. 'Sure,' I said, going over to the mattock and picking it up. 'Deal.'