‘Just carry on straight.’ Rufus followed me in. ‘There’s a stair to your left. Take it up to the second floor.’
We met a couple of skivvies on the way, but after an initial startled glance at us they looked away and scurried past. Obviously forewarned, which was interesting in itself. The stair, when I came to it, was a service one, running between the outside wall of the building and the palace’s inner shell, worn, dirty and poorly-lit. I climbed to the second floor and pushed the door that opened off the small landing.
I’d thought we’d be into frescoed walls and polished bronzes territory, but although we’d clearly gone up a couple of grades as far as decoration and general appearance were concerned the corridor beyond the door was definitely middle-management bracket, if that.
‘Nearly there, now,’ Rufus said. ‘Third door along on your right’s the one you want. Just knock and go in.’
I did. I’d been half-expecting an office, but although there was a desk and a set of document-cubbies against the far wall the room had an unused look to it, and I caught the musty smell of mildewed paper and mouse droppings. Sitting behind the desk was a nondescript, late-middle-aged man in a tunic and freedman’s cap making notes from a set of wax tablets. He looked up and laid the pen aside.
‘Ah, Valerius Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Delighted to meet you at last. I’m Claudius Narcissus. Do have a seat, please. I apologise for the surroundings, but as you’ll understand we’re being a trifle cloak-and-dagger here.’
Uh-huh. So our grey eminence – and you didn’t get much greyer than this little guy, although ‘eminence’ didn’t really fit him at all – had turned out to be Claudius’s top-echelon freedman and advisor Narcissus, had he? Well, it made sense, I supposed, and it came to the same thing in the end: if not Messalina herself then her equally-crooked pal and collaborator on the imperial staff.
‘That’s okay,’ I said. ‘I’d rather stand.’
Rufus had come in behind me. He put his hand on my shoulder, hooked a stool over with his foot, and pressed me down into it.
‘Don’t get smart, you bastard,’ he said. ‘You’re getting off lightly, remember. Just be grateful.’
Narcissus had been watching the exchange, a tolerant smile on his face.
‘You have it, Rufus?’ he said.
Rufus took the document out of his belt and handed it over. Narcissus flicked through the set of flimsies, grunting and tutting occasionally.
‘That’s excellent,’ he said. ‘Better than excellent, in fact. Vinicianus did well. Not a bad piece of writing, either, particularly considering his circumstances at the time.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘You’ve got what you wanted and we’re all square. So let me go.’
Narcissus put the pages down and looked at me directly. ‘Now that would hardly be fair, would it?’ he said. ‘Not without an explanation on my side. And, Corvinus, I do owe you that much, at the very least.’
‘I’ll pass. What you and Messalina have going in your dirty little partnership is no concern of mine.’
Narcissus’s lips twitched. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You haven’t worked that bit out for yourself yet, then. How disappointing. Definitely the time for a chat.’ He glanced at Rufus, standing behind me. ‘You’re making him nervous, Publius. Perhaps you’d better leave us alone. Don’t worry, I’ll be perfectly safe. Valerius Corvinus may be many things, but he isn’t a fool.’
‘Nervous isn’t the word I’d use with reference to your stooge, pal,’ I said. ‘He makes me sick, that’s all.’
Rufus chuckled and ruffled my hair. I didn’t turn round as his footsteps moved towards the door, which opened and closed behind him.
‘Now.’ Narcissus leaned forwards, elbows on the desk, and steepled his fingers. ‘I am about to destroy your illusions, so listen carefully. I am not working with or for Messalina in this. Quite the contrary.’
I stared at him. ‘You expect me to believe that?’ I said.
‘Oh, it’s an understandable mistake for you to have made, I know. Particularly when you consider things in the context of past events, although even then everything depends on viewpoint. But trust me, Valeria Messalina knows nothing whatever about any of this.’ Again the twitch of the lips. ‘At least, I sincerely hope she doesn’t, or I’m in real trouble. Probably of the fatal sort.’
‘Okay. So you have dirty little plans of your own. Not much difference there that I can see.’
I thought he’d lose his temper, but he just shook his head. ‘No. I’ve no plans, dirty or otherwise,’ he said. ‘Or at least if I do have any they’re of the long-term variety, and I’ve made them with the safety and well-being of the emperor and the empire in mind.’ He was watching me closely. ‘I am no traitor. I am Claudius’s faithful servant and completely loyal to the state. I always have been, and I always will be.’
‘Come on, Narcissus!’ I folded my arms. ‘I know for a fact you were involved with Messalina in the plot against Gaius, for a start. And that you helped her to stitch up Junius Silanus on that fake assassination charge. Besides, Rufus is Messalina’s creature; he wouldn’t go against her, not in a million years. So cut the flannel, right? I told you: what she and you get up to is none of my business, and as far as I’m concerned it’s wasted.’
‘Gaius had to die. You know that; he was destroying Rome. And your own wife wasn’t altogether innocent in engineering his death either, if I remember correctly.’ I said nothing. ‘Silanus...well, I’m genuinely sorry about Silanus, but it was essential at that point that Messalina be convinced that we were allies, open ones. Besides, she would have made sure he was condemned without any help from me. And Rufus’ – he smiled – ‘Suillius Rufus, as you’re well aware, is a completely bad lot, self-serving and venal to the core. I simply convinced him that his long-term interests lay on my side of the fence rather than Messalina’s. As indeed they do.’
Yeah, well, if he wasn’t telling the truth he was sounding pretty convincing. And if you made the shift and looked at things from his perspective what he said was reasonable enough. Besides, what would he have to gain from lying? As far as I was concerned, the guy was untouchable, completely so; he could tell me what he liked, and whistle while he did it. If I still wasn’t wholly convinced at least I was prepared to listen.
‘Does the emperor know?’ I said. ‘About any of this?’
Narcissus laughed. ‘Good gods, no! You think my head would still be on my shoulders if he did?’
‘So what was the point? I mean, if you can’t use this’ – I indicated the document on the desk between us – ‘then why all the fuss?’
‘It’s an investment, Corvinus. Short-term or long-term I don’t know which, but it’s the best I could ever have. It was written by someone in Messalina’s complete confidence who was one of her lovers himself, and it’s absolutely factual and thorough: names, dates, intimate details, everything. With the added bonus that Messalina doesn’t know it exists. Had the person concerned been someone other than her, or the emperor someone other than Claudius, it would be more than sufficient to have them executed for treason a dozen times over. As it is’ – he shrugged – ‘it will simply have to wait its time.’
‘So why did Vinicianus write it?’
‘Who knows?’ Narcissus said blandly. ‘A feeling of guilt, possibly, and a desire to make amends. Annius Vinicianus was no Rufus; he was ambitious and self-seeking, crooked as they come when the need arose, yes, but at heart he was a good Roman.’ Yeah; his uncle had said as much when I’d talked to him. For all his many flaws, loyalty to friends had been genuinely important to the guy, and knowing that he’d been set up over the Scribonianus affair and had consequently betrayed a friend to his death might well have triggered it. ‘In any case, he did, and I’m grateful to him. Rome will be, too, eventually.’
Even so...
‘Bugger all that,’ I said. ‘It was you who framed him, wasn’t it? Not Messalina?’
‘Oh, well done!’ Narcissus smiled broadly. ‘
You’re thinking at last. Yes, that’s right, it was. Although of course I was very careful to see to it that he himself believed otherwise, indeed as you’ll readily understand that part of it was completely necessary if I was to persuade him into taking his revenge on her. Nothing too crude or overt, naturally: a small hint dropped into a receptive mind by a carefully-primed casual visitor ostensibly sympathetic to the wronged man can work wonders. And Vinicianus really had been becoming quite a danger, so getting rid of him was of use in itself.’
‘You had Gaius Sentius executed too, didn’t you?’
‘Unfortunately yes. Young Sentius was a necessary casualty. He’d read the document, you see, the only other person who had, and I couldn’t risk word of it reaching Messalina. Not even word of its existence.’
Cold and bland as hell. Gods!
‘How did you find that out yourself, in the first place?’ I said. ‘That the document did exist, and that Vinicianus had sent it to Scribonianus?’
‘Ah.’ The smile again. ‘I do have my spies. As indeed has Messalina, only on this occasion mine were the more efficient. Unfortunately they were too late to intercept it on its way to Dalmatia, and then, of course, young Gaius Sentius passed it on and it disappeared completely. I’d quite despaired of finding it again when Rufus reported that he’d been approached by Sentius’s brother offering it for sale.’
Right; now we came to it. ‘So you had Sextus Sentius – aka Oplonius – tortured and murdered. Why the hell couldn’t you just have bought the fucking thing in the first place?’
Narcissus winced. ‘A fair comment,’ he said. ‘You’re absolutely right, and for that I’ve no excuse. All I can say is that I made the mistake of giving Rufus a free hand to take care of the matter as he thought fit. I knew nothing of events until after the man was dead.’
‘Convenient.’
For the first time, a splash of colour flooded the grey cheeks. ‘Don’t you get self-righteous with me, Corvinus!’ he snapped. ‘Haven’t you ever made a decision that you’ve regretted bitterly later? Besides, as I understand it both the men directly involved in his murder are dead now themselves. Killed by your criminal friend.’
‘What about my major-domo? Would you have let Rufus kill him as well?’
‘Of course not! He was perfectly safe. We only needed him as a bargaining chip. Rufus would have returned him unharmed whatever the outcome.’
Yeah, well, he may have genuinely believed that, but I didn’t. There was a world of difference between idealists like Narcissus and cold-hearted opportunists like Suillius Rufus, let alone between him and the murderous thug that Ligurinus had been. If it hadn’t been for Eutacticus Bathyllus would’ve been dead meat from the moment he was lifted. Still, it was good to know that Narcissus, ruthless bastard at base though he might be, wasn’t totally devoid of scruples.
‘So what happens now?’ I said.
‘Absolutely nothing. You walk away and get on with your life as if Gaius Oplonius had never existed. As indeed he didn’t. I give you my solemn word that, for my part, everything ends here. The matter is closed. Closed, locked, bolted and buried. I only ask for your own promise that that much holds good on your side as well.’
‘What about the slave? Damon?’
‘What about him? Oplonius never existed, so I see no reason why his slave should. Certainly he’s safe from me and mine, as long as he keeps his mouth shut. But I don’t think that’ll be an issue, do you? Not if he values his own skin.’
Uh-huh. I’d tend to agree: if there was one thing Damon couldn’t be accused of it was the lack of an instinct for self-preservation. ‘And that?’ I indicated the pile of flimsies.
‘That is none of your concern. It’ll be kept very safe and very secret, believe me. Eventually – next month, a year, ten years from now, I don’t know – it will be used to help bring Messalina down, I guarantee that. After a little doctoring, naturally, to save my own blushes, and possibly my neck into the bargain.’ He held out his hand. ‘As I said, Valerius, a pleasure to have met you. And my thanks and apologies. You can find your own way out, I hope?’
‘Yeah.’ I stood up, hesitated, then reached over and shook. ‘Goodbye, Narcissus.’
Case, as he’d said, closed.
24
Which only left the problem of Damon himself. He might be off the hook now as far as both Eutacticus and Narcissus were concerned, but much though I’d have liked to I couldn’t just pat him on the head, turn him loose and forget all about him. No way could I do that: the guy was a slave, after all, technically an escaped one with the threat of a murder rap hanging over him. Plus the fact that if I did wave him off into the sunset I wouldn’t be doing him any favours, quite the reverse: wherever he went, whatever he did, sooner or later, probably the former, he’d be caught and passed over to the authorities. And that would be that. Chop.
On the other hand – and it was a real sticking point that I couldn’t get round, nothing to do with the legal aspect of things – proved liar, swindler and all-round crook Damon might be, but as Bathyllus’s brother he was family, and as Head of Household I had a moral responsibility to look out for him. Not that I could simply and quietly absorb him into the Corvinus ménage, because that would be illegal, too: I’d no rights of ownership, which would mean that technically I was guilty either of theft or of harbouring an escaped slave. I might just get away with it, because after all at present the guy was a loose pebble rattling around the world, but still...
Hell!
I thought about the problem all the way home, only to find when I got in it had already arrived and was waiting there for me. Eutacticus had obviously decided that Damon was my responsibility too, because while I’d been having my little chat with Narcissus he’d had the bugger delivered to the Caelian. As a result, there he was in the garden, where Bathyllus had put him with instructions to help Alexis with the weeding. Smart move on the little guy’s part: except for the gate at the back, which was locked, the only way Damon could take off for fresh cons and pastures new was either through the house itself or over our eight-foot wall. And Alexis was on hand to make sure he didn’t even try for that option.
When he saw me coming through the portico he straightened and leaned on his hoe.
‘So you’re back, squire,’ he said. ‘How did it go?’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘You’re in the clear, as far as Rufus and his boss are concerned, anyway.’ I wasn’t going to mention Narcissus; the fewer people who knew what had been going on behind the scenes the better.
I saw the flash of relief in his eyes. Yeah, well; he might be a cocky bastard, but I suspected most of that was for show, like the con-man’s patter. He’d been worried, seriously worried, and rightly so: like Bathyllus had said, a slave has no comeback, and when it’s him against the world the world will screw him every time.
I made my decision.
‘Get your bibs and bobs together, sunshine,’ I said. ‘We’re going for a walk.’
He gave me a suspicious look. ‘Is that right, sir?’ he said. ‘And where would that be to, exactly?’
‘To a pal of mine’s house. Guy by the name of Vibullius Secundus. His wife’s your ex-master’s sister.’
His face cleared. ‘Helena?’ he said. ‘The Lady Sentia, I should say?’
‘That’s the one. You knew her?’
‘Only to look at, sir, and the last time I saw her was a good while ago. Twenty years ago now, when the old ba–’ He stopped. ‘When old Gnaeus Sentius threw me and the master out. Master had a lot of time for Helena. Well, well. Married now and in Rome, eh?’ He set the hoe against a bean-pole. ‘All right, I’ll go with you gladly.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll wait for you while you get your things.’
‘No need for that, squire. There was just an old tunic and a couple of other bits round at the fuller’s shop, and when Eutacticus’s boys picked me up I’d no chance to collect them. They’re no great loss, believe me.’
Oh, shit. The
guy was pushing sixty and all he had was what he stood up in. Life on the edge was right. I felt, for no accountable reason, angry.
‘No problem, pal,’ I said. ‘And there’s no real hurry. I’ll wait like I said while Bathyllus puts something together.’
‘That’s good of you. You’re a gentleman, Corvinus.’
I went back inside, to where Perilla was lying on the atrium couch. I’d already told her about developments on the Narcissus front, and she was deep in conversation with Bathyllus about preparations for our delayed trip to the Alban Hills.
‘You gave Damon the good news then, dear,’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ I lay down on the other couch and filled a cup of wine for myself from the jug Bathyllus had left there. ‘And I think our best bet would be to take him round to Gaius Secundus’s. He’s a Sentius family slave, so Helena’s the logical person to decide what happens to him.’ I looked up at Bathyllus, who was hovering. ‘Suit you, pal?’
‘Yes, sir. Of course. It would be the ideal arrangement, in fact.’
‘Fine. Go and scrounge up a bagful of clothes for him, would you? It appears he’s a bit short in that department, and my clothes chest could do with sorting out.’
‘Certainly.’ He cocked his head. ‘I think that might be the front door. If you’d excuse me?’
He went out. I looked at Perilla.
‘You expecting any visitors?’ I said.
‘No, dear. Nothing to do with me.’
Bathyllus reappeared.
‘Your mother, sir,’ he said. ‘And Helvius Priscus.’
Oh, hell! Still, I supposed it had had to happen sometime.
Mother drifted in, with Priscus close on her rouge-tinted heels, wearing an expression like a smug tortoise’s. So when he’d revealed the awful truth about the existence of Polyxene she hadn’t battered him to death after all, then; from the looks of things, quite the contrary.
Which was promising. Very promising. Maybe we’d live through this after all.
‘Good afternoon, Marcus,’ Mother said. ‘Perilla. I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but we thought you might like to hear our little bit of recent news.’ She turned to Priscus. ‘Didn’t we, Titus?’
Family Commitments (Marcus Corvinus Book 20) Page 23