'Business,' I said. 'You happen to know a man called Gaius Aternius?'
Perennius took a pull at his own cup before answering. 'Sure,' he said at last. 'The mayor's nephew.' He gave me a look that Perilla would've called 'circumspect', and most of the good humour had gone. 'He a friend of yours?'
'No. But I need to visit him.'
The guy grunted but didn't comment. 'He's got a house just off the Hinge.' That, I knew, was Caere's main street, running the length of the town. 'By the temple of Nortia. What kind of business are you in? Land? Grain? Wine, maybe?'
I pricked up my ears. 'Why these in particular?' I said.
'Just an assumption. They're Aternius's main...call them interests.' His mouth twisted. 'Him and his uncle. Together they're the biggest landowners and property developers in the district.'
'Is that so, now?'
'That's so. That is indeed so. It's why the bastard's mayor.' Talk about flat; any flatter and you could've used the guy's voice to lay tiles on. 'A bit of advice, if you don't know Cominius or Aternius already: you've got any business with that pair of shysters, you be careful to count your fingers after you shake hands on the deal. Get me?'
'They're crooked?' Shit! This was an angle and a half, and one I hadn't been expecting!
'Let's just say they always come out ahead. It's a family feature. Old Cominius – Cominius's father – was the same, and Aternius is a shoot off the same stock. Slippery bastards, the lot of them. And I'm talking from personal experience.' He got to his feet, drained his cup and laid a handful of coppers on the table. 'I've got work to go to. Nice meeting you. You be careful, right?'
'Right.' I watched him go, brain churning.
I found Aternius's house no bother: it was one of the snazziest in town, a two-storey job covering half a block with a garden at the side you could've run chariots in. I introduced myself to the door slave and got sniffed at despite my purple-striped tunic; the guy gave the distinct impression that he thought real Roman purple-stripers pulled up in litters with half a dozen attendants ready to pass bowls of cooling drinks through the curtains, and he wasn't going to be fobbed off with dusty pretenders reeking of wine and sweat. Nevertheless he let me in and left me to twiddle my thumbs in the hall while he fetched the master.
Aternius didn't seem too pleased to see me, either.
'Valerius Corvinus,' he said, shaking hands. 'This is a surprise. I can only give you fifteen minutes, I'm afraid. I'll be going out shortly.'
'Yeah, I know.' I followed him into the atrium. 'To Sicinia Rufina's place.'
He stopped so abruptly we nearly collided. 'You're remarkably well informed,' he said. 'Curiously so.' Whatever residual friendliness there was in his tone had evaporated.
'I was there earlier. The lady told me herself.'
'Indeed.' He lay down on a couch and waved me to another. 'So. What can I do for you?'
'I thought maybe you'd like an update on the Navius case. You know there was another murder yesterday?'
'Titus Clusinus. Yes. So I've been told.' The guy's voice was expressionless. 'It doesn't change anything, of course. I understand the body could've been submerged for a day, at least.'
Uh-huh. Who was the 'remarkably well informed' one now? Still, I supposed he'd keep tabs on what was going on. 'Yeah. But there's one more thing. Papatius was with Clusinus's wife when Navius was murdered.'
His eyes came up. Good! I'd rocked the bastard after all! It was worth playing devil's advocate just to wipe the smugness off his face. 'Who said so?'
'The lady herself. Vesia.'
He seemed to relax. 'Surely that's fresh proof of Papatius's guilt. If the two were lovers –'
'I said he was with her, pal. I didn't say they were lovers.'
'It's a logical assumption, although naturally it's not essential. And it explains why he refused to give an account of his movements.'
I was getting angry now. 'It explains nothing of the sort,’ I said. ‘Just the opposite. If Papatius had killed Navius and Vesia was prepared to lie to back him up he'd fall over himself to tell you where he was.'
'Not if he and the woman were intending to murder her husband.'
That stopped me. Hell’s teeth; I hated to admit it, but the guy was right, in theory at least: if Papatius and Vesia planned to murder Clusinus they wouldn't put their scheme in jeopardy by tipping him and everyone else off in advance that they were an item, platonic or not. On the other hand –
'He wouldn't give Vesia as an alibi at all if he'd killed Clusinus,' I said. 'Before or after. It would point the finger straight at him.'
'But he didn't.' Aternius was smiling, the full teeth job. 'Vesia did. Perhaps it was her own idea; certainly I doubt if she thought the implications through, and meanwhile Papatius still isn't talking. And you're right about the finger of suspicion. That's just where it does point.'
Bugger. Yeah, well; there wasn't much more I could do or say, and I was hamstrung by the knowledge that, smug narrow-minded bastard or not, the guy was probably right. If you went by pure logic and common sense Papatius was guilty six ways from nothing. Maybe it was because Smooth-Chops was so sure he'd got the right man that I kept on going; that and a gut feeling that Vesia just couldn't be the scheming bitch she'd have to be for the theory to work. Also if Papatius had killed Clusinus during the hours of darkness surely Thupeltha would know he'd gone out. Unless they didn't actually sleep together in the literal sense, of course, and that was possible, too.
Aternius was saying something, and my attention snapped back to him.
'The praetor's representative from Rome should be in the area in ten days' time. The murders are capital crimes committed by a citizen, and so beyond my uncle's jurisdiction, but we should be able to finalise things then.' He smiled. 'I'm sure you'll be as glad to get this nonsense off your hands as I will.'
Hell; I hadn't thought of that. We're a stratified society, us Romans. Barring the off-chance of an execution if the victim's family is important enough to have serious clout, purple-stripers like Priscus accused of murder face exile and a whacking fine, unless they do a runner voluntarily first, which saves everyone's time and is a lot more profitable to the accuser. No-account commoners out in the sticks, on the other hand, get the praetor's rep and, if they're found guilty, a fast appointment with a noose. And Papatius would be found guilty, sure he would: this bastard would make certain of it.
I'd got ten days to solve this thing, max; or at least to be happy in my own mind that they'd nailed the right man.
'You mind if I go round and see him?' I said. 'Papatius, I mean?'
Aternius frowned. 'Why on earth would you want to do that?'
'He may want to change his testimony now I've talked to Vesia. Besides, there're a few things I need to clear up.' A few! Jupiter! 'He's at militia headquarters?'
The guy's frown hadn't lifted. 'Corvinus, this is neither wise nor necessary. The case is solved. We have the murderer in custody, largely thanks to you, and he'll have every chance the law allows to defend himself. Frankly, now your stepfather is no longer involved in this affair it's none of your business. Why don't you leave things alone and get on with your holiday?'
My fingers bunched, but I kept control of my temper. 'How I choose to spend my holiday's my concern, pal,' I said equably. 'Besides, the guy will need a lawyer.'
That got me a sharp look; very sharp. 'You're offering your own services?'
'If he isn't already represented – and from what you just said he isn't – then sure, why not?' That was one good thing about the legal system: I might not know the lex Augusta de vi from a kick in the pants, but I had the only formal qualification necessary for the job; I was willing to do it. And as Papatius's lawyer I'd have automatic right of access to him. 'Just write me the letter, sunshine, and I'll be on my way.'
He fizzed a bit, but I had him over a barrel and he knew it. He was writing out the note for the militia commander when I thought of something else.
'Incidentally,' I
said, 'you happen to know a guy called Titus Perennius?'
The pen paused. 'I've met him, yes.'
'Business or social?'
'Business. I bought his farm from him several years ago.' Aternius rolled up the paper sheet and gave me it. 'There you are. Now if you'll excuse me I have other things to do.'
'Right.' I got up, tucked the letter into the belt of my tunic and made for the door. 'I'll see you around. Have a nice day.'
He didn't answer.
. . .
I'd passed the militia building on my way to Aternius's. It was on the main square, a grim-looking place built of the soft local stone and worn down so much it could've been there when Rome was just a gleam in Jupiter's eye. The militia commander wasn't exactly spruce and dapper, either. Or any less grim.
'You want to see Larth Papatius, you say?' He glared at me like I'd just made an indecent proposal in the public latrine. 'Authorisation?'
I handed over Smooth-Chops's letter. He unrolled it, read it, grunted and handed it back. 'So what makes the bastard rate a fancy Roman lawyer?' he said.
'Maybe his charm and witty conversation. You should try it some time.'
That got me no answer at all, not even a grunt. He heaved himself to his feet, picked up a huge key from a nail in the wall, and led the way along a passage that could've doubled for the one Pluto dragged Persephone down. I only hoped there wasn't a three-headed dog at the end of it.
We got to an oak slab that was just recognisably a door but looked like it hadn't been opened since Romulus got his first taste of wolf's-milk. The guy shoved in the key, turned it and shoved.
'Bang on the door when you're done,' he said.
'Hey, it's a long way up, chum. You want to leave me the key instead and I'll find my own way back?'
He just looked at me. 'I've got good ears,' he said finally.
Yeah, well, that was a matter of opinion: I'd seen better soup-pot lids myself. But I wasn't going to say that, not with Charon here the only thing between me and the outside world.
There was a lamp on the floor. I lit it with the strike-light beside it and went in. The door shut behind me and the lock rattled. Footsteps retreated into the distance. Easy is the descent to Avernus: the real bugger is getting back.
Apart from the light from the lamp, the room was pitch-dark: no windows, we must've been twenty feet below street level, and it smelt of shit. When my eyes got used to the dimness I saw Papatius sitting on a cot bed; just sitting, watching me. He had chains on his wrists and ankles.
'What the fuck are you doing here?' he said.
I could've asked myself the same question. There was no stool, so I leaned against the wall. The top of my head scraped the roof. It felt damp.
'Don't knock it, pal,' I said. 'I'm your new lawyer.'
He laughed; not that there was much humour in the sound he made. 'Cut the crap, Roman. You're the reason I'm down here.'
Well, I couldn't argue with that. 'I've been talking with Vesia,' I said.
He was off the bed in a second. If the guy hadn't been half-starved and leery with beatings he could've taken me easy. As it was, when he got to me I had to hold him up, and the lamp too. I took him back to the cot and sat him down.
'You bastard,' he said.
No argument there either: he had a right to his opinion, and from his angle he was justified. 'She says you were together when Navius was killed. That right?'
He was quiet a long time.
'If she says so.'
Gods! He wasn't giving much away, was he? 'Hey, look,' I said. 'I told you; I'm your lawyer. I'm supposed to be on your side and vice versa. So cut the crap yourself, right?'
He grinned, or tried to; he didn't have many teeth left. 'Okay, Roman. Yes, that's where I was. But we were just talking. Nothing else.'
'She told me that too. And what you talked about.'
Another silence. Finally, he broke it, softly. 'I'd've killed him for her, Corvinus, if she'd wanted me to. If she'd asked. You know that?'
He wasn't talking about Navius, or Thupeltha. 'Yeah,' I said. 'I know.'
'Only I didn't. Someone else did it for me. And if I could shake the bastard's hand I would. That clear?'
'Clear.' Jupiter! 'There anything you haven't told me?'
His lips twisted. 'That depends on what you know, doesn't it?'
It was my turn to grin. 'Okay,' I said. 'When Thupeltha left the wineshop that morning you gave her time to get clear. Then you went round to Vesia's. You told her about Clusinus and your wife and you offered to do something about it. Vesia said to leave things as they were. You talked for a while and then you left to work on your own property. You didn't see nothing nor no one for the rest of the day until you went back home and found out that Navius had been murdered. Finish, end of story. Is that right?'
'That's right. And, as you say, end of story. I didn't know anything about it then, and I don't now. Either about Navius or Clusinus. You can believe me or not, but it's the truth.'
Yeah. It probably was at that; at least my gut feeling told me it was. Maybe the guy deserved a lawyer after all, even if it was a legal lame-brain like me. Okay; so it cleared the ground. We could start on the other angles. 'You know anyone by the name of Tolumnius?'
He gave me a puzzled look. 'Yeah. Two of them, Gaius and Titus. The first's a wine shipper, the second makes wine jars. They're brothers, cousins of Gnaeus Vipena, and they're based in Pyrgi. So?'
I leaned back against the wall. Vipena's cousins, eh? Maybe I was onto something here. 'Can you tell me anything about them?'
'Just the names and who they are. I've never met either. Between them they handle Vipena's wine. He gets his jars from Titus and Gaius ships them to Ostia. It's a family business.' He shifted and his chains clanked. 'What’s this about, Corvinus?'
'I don't know. Maybe nothing.' Nothing, hell! I had an itch at the back of my neck like a dozen fleas. In this place that's just what it might have been, but I doubted it. 'Pyrgi, you say?' Pyrgi was Caere's main port, eight miles to the north-west.
'Titus runs a potter's yard near the Caere Gate and Gaius has a place by the harbour.'
'Got you.' I turned and banged on the door. I just hoped Big Ears was listening. 'Okay, friend. Keep your pecker up. Your fate is in good hands.'
His ruined mouth split in another grin. 'Yeah. Like hell it is.' The grin faded. 'When you go back, say hello to Vesia for me, will you?'
'You've got it.' A thought struck me. 'By the way. You know why a winemaker would want a set of cisterns with a fire grid underneath?'
'Sure. That's standard equipment in some wineries. If a wine's not up to scratch you can mellow it by heating. I don't do it myself, mind: they say it puts ten years on in as many hours, but you'd have to be a pretty poor judge not to know the difference between jar- and flame-aged stuff.'
'Right,' I said. Hypocrite! 'Thanks, pal.'
For a wonder, Big Ears showed up at last and let me out. After that dark, stinking hole even Caere looked good; but I didn't regret the visit.
I knew now what Attus Navius and Vipena had quarrelled about. Clusinus's death might be something else again, but the odds on the sour-faced augur having murdered Navius had just taken a hike.
20.
I had a problem here. It may've still been early – the sun wasn't quite into its last quadrant yet – but Pyrgi was far too far to walk, and it would've taken time to have gone home and either picked up the horse or Lysias and the carriage. On the other hand, time was pressing. I mightn't have a hope of solving this thing in the ten days Smooth-Chops had unwittingly given me, but I reckoned I'd feel pretty sick when Papatius was strangled and I looked back on an afternoon and evening spent twiddling my thumbs and knocking back the booze. The answer, of course, was obvious: there're hack stables in every town where you can buy an animal or rent it, and I could get a horse there. Jupiter knew what kind of screw I'd end up with in Caere, but whatever it was so long as it had four legs and could go the distance it wou
ld have to do. I stopped the first guy I met outside the militia building and he gave me directions to the best glue factory in town; in fact, the only glue factory in town.
Before I left, though, I had one more thing to do. The records office was practically next door to Papatius's slammer, part of the temple of Jupiter Tinia. I went in and asked to look at a deed of sale.
'You know the buyer and the seller, sir?' The clerk behind the desk was human for a change. That doesn't often happen in these places, where they seem to have a policy of employing social misfits with a deep and abiding hatred of anything that isn't made up of glued-together sheets rolled round a roller.
'Sure,' I said. 'It's a stretch of vineyard. Sold by a guy called Arruns and bought by a Velthur Navius. We're talking fifty years back, mind.'
The kid – he couldn't've been any more than nineteen – was frowning.
'Arruns, you say? And Navius?'
'Yeah. Yeah, that's right. Out at Vetuliscum.' I could've been imagining things – I probably was – but there was something in his tone that made the hairs stir at the nape of my neck. 'You got a problem with that?'
'No. No, of course not.' He turned away. 'If you don't mind waiting I'll see if I can find the document for you.'
'Fine. Thanks.'
Whatever filing system they used it was pretty efficient. I'd hardly sat down and begun picking my teeth when he was back with the roll. I undid the leather tie-string and opened it up.
It was straightforward enough, and couched in the proper legal form that makes your head ache: the sale of X amount of land, boundaries specified, for Y amount of cash on date Z, the exchange being made between one Aulus Arruns and one Velthur Navius, signatures and seals appended; but the signature and seal I was looking for was under the heading 'Witnessed By'. There it was, large as life, and if I'd had any bets on what it'd be I'd've cleaned up.
I thanked the guy and left.
I hadn't overestimated what Caere had to offer in the way of horseflesh. The owner of the hack stable beside Hercules Gate led out something that was just arguably equine but which any place where any kinds of standards applied would've been recycled for cat meat ten years ago.
Old Bones (Marcus Corvinus Book 5) Page 13