Illegally Dead (Marcus Corvinus Book 12)

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Illegally Dead (Marcus Corvinus Book 12) Page 12

by David Wishart


  ‘No harm done,’ Acceius said.

  ‘That, uh, your first wife?’

  Clarus had finished winding the bandage and was slitting the end and tying it in place. He hadn’t said a word all the way through, although I’d’ve betted he was listening hard, but our eyes met and he half-grinned at me over Acceius’s shoulder. A smart cookie, Clarus.

  Acceius hesitated, just for a moment. Then he said: ‘Yes, that’s Tascia. How did you know I’d been married before?’

  I shrugged. ‘Someone mentioned it to me. Maybe it was Aunt Marcia. She’s a devil for family histories, especially when they don’t concern her.’

  Acceius was reaching for his tunic. ‘Thank you, Clarus. That’s very comfortable.’ He pulled it over his head and said: ‘She died a long time ago, Corvinus. More than twenty years, now, before I moved here. It was...she died in childbirth; something went wrong, she wouldn’t stop bleeding. She was only eighteen.’ His head reappeared; there was a trace of tears in his eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

  He stood up. ‘Nonsense. I told you, it’s twenty years ago and more. Water under the bridge, long forgotten. Now; is there anything else I can tell you?’

  ‘Uh-uh.’ I shook my head. ‘That’s it for the present, pal. Glad to see you’re not too much the worse for wear. Clarus? Walk you back?’

  ‘Fine.’ Clarus took a box of pills from his belt-pouch and set them on the table. ‘To help if the pain gets bad, sir,’ he said. ‘And to help you sleep. They’re quite strong, so only one in four hours.’

  ‘Thank you. And thank your father, too.’

  ‘He’ll call in ten days to remove the stitches. One of your own slaves can change the dressing for you - daily, please - but if there’s any inflammation of the wound you’re to contact us at once.’

  ‘Understood. Thank you again. Goodbye, Valerius Corvinus.’

  We left. There was no sign of Seia Lucinda - hadn’t been, when I’d arrived - but it was early, so presumably she was in the family rooms having her hair done and her makeup applied. I wondered if Tascia had been anything like her replacement; probably not, from the fresh, girlish look of her portrait.

  Clarus didn’t speak until we were well clear of the door. Finally, he said: ‘Is Acceius still on the suspect list, Corvinus?’

  I grinned. ‘Pal, at this stage of the game I am not ruling anyone out.’

  ‘Well, he most certainly didn’t stab himself. Or have himself stabbed to get himself off the hook. Dad says if the knife had gone in he’d’ve died for sure. He almost did, anyway, the amount of blood he lost.’

  ‘What about that description of the attack? It work out?’

  ‘Sure.’ Clarus frowned. ‘Upward-slanting wound, left lower back, deeper nearer the spine than at the side. If the man came from behind and held the knife low, underarm stab upwards from the right, and Acceius had twisted to his left then that’s how it would’ve happened. The description of the man’d work too: tall, but not as tall as Acceius, capable of a fair degree of force.’

  ‘Also no amateur,’ I said. ‘Real knifeman’s punch, no overarm shit.’

  He nodded. ‘You noticed that.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Perhaps you should forward the description to Quintus Libanius. Not many strangers in Castrimoenium, and if Acceius belted him in the mouth it’ll make him even easier to recognise.’

  I looked at him sideways. ‘Fancy going and telling your granny to suck eggs, son?’ I said.

  Clarus laughed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay. No offence.’ We walked on for a bit in silence: Hyperion’s house - and his surgery - were near the temple of Juno; south of the market square, in other words, and as Acceius had said not all that far from the Bovillan gate. ‘You noticed the business with the bust.’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t know he’d been married before. How did you find out?’

  ‘Gabba. He said there’d been nothing funny about the death that he’d heard of, and childbirth deaths are common enough, but a sudden widower getting hitched again practically before his wife’s bones’ve cooled is bound to be suspicious. Especially to a stunner - a rich stunner - like Seia Lucinda.’

  ‘And did he? I mean, that quickly?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know exactly, but it couldn’t’ve been that long after.’

  ‘You’ve got a nasty mind, Corvinus.’

  ‘Yeah. Still, what kind of wife-murderer keeps a bust of the victim in his private study? And those tears weren’t fake.’

  We were almost at Hyperion’s door now. Clarus stopped. ‘Any idea who attacked him?’ he said.

  ‘Uh-uh. My best guess is the obvious one: a friend or relative of the guy who attacked Hostilius. Of course, then we’ve got the question of why. Was it because originally both partners were targets or out of revenge because Acceius had killed the man’s pal?’

  ‘Could it have been Castor?’

  I looked at him sharply. ‘Why the hell should Castor want Acceius dead? It was Hostilius he had the trouble with. Besides, if it’d been Castor Acceius would’ve said so.’

  ‘Yes. I suppose that’s true.’ Clarus hesitated. ‘It was just an idea, and he is missing, after all.’

  ‘Jealousy’s a terrible thing, pal,’ I said, grinning. ‘Don’t let it warp your judgment.’

  He grinned back and ducked his head. ‘Fair point. You coming in?’

  ‘No, I think I’ll get on. I wanted to have another word with Veturina. Oh, one thing more, before I go.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Publius Novius, the lawyer over in Bovillae. He got any sort of reputation locally?’

  ‘Not really, in the sense that you mean, at least that I’ve heard of. He’s been in the business for years, of course, and you don’t get to be a successful lawyer without knowing when to take the main chance. You have any particular reason for asking?’

  ‘No. Or rather, maybe, but it’s just an idea at present. Thanks, Clarus. You coming round for dinner this evening?’

  ‘I might be.’

  ‘Fine. See you then.’

  I set off for Veturina’s.

  16

  She was in her private sitting-room this time. The room was practically identical to the one further along the corridor, that Hostilius had used - big, light and airy, opening onto the portico and the garden - except that instead of bookcases stuffed with law books the place was full of plants, growing plants as well as vases of cut flowers. No couches, either, just the well-padded high-back chair where Veturina was sitting, a low table and a couple of stools.

  ‘Valerius Corvinus. Welcome. Do sit down. ’ The lady was still wearing her mourning mantle. ‘That’s all,’ she said to the slave who’d brought me. He bowed and exited.

  I pulled up one of the stools and sat. ‘Veturina, I –’ I began.

  She held up a hand. ‘First let me apologise for the...well, the scene I made two days ago when you were last here. I was overwrought, yes, but that’s no excuse. I behaved dreadfully.’

  ‘No problem.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Ah...I was just wondering about your brother. Whether he –’

  ‘Whether he’s at home this time? Yes, he is, actually.’

  I stared at her. ‘Castor’s back?’

  ‘I’ve just said so.’ She was looking at me coolly. ‘He came back an hour or so ago. I’m sure he’d be glad to speak to you if you have the time.’

  ‘Where’s he been?’

  ‘Staying with a friend in Bovillae. But that’s something you can ask him about yourself.’

  Jupiter! ‘You knew, last time I was here, that he’d been missing for eight days, didn’t you, lady?’ She said nothing, but her lips tightened. ‘Did you know where he was then?’

  ‘No. I might have guessed, but I didn’t think –’

  ‘He didn’t call back that evening? The day he had the quarrel with your husband in town? He wasn’t here when you had your own row with Hostilius and he told you he wanted him out of t
he house?’

  Two red spots had formed on her cheeks. ‘Valerius Corvinus!’

  Oh, hell; here we went again. None the less... ‘I’m sorry, Veturina,’ I said, ‘but this is too important for pussyfooting. I just can’t believe that Castor disappeared into the blue without telling you where he was going, or at the very least that you knew he’d gone and why. And that raises the question of why you tried to cover for him.’

  She was glaring at me now. ‘If Scopas has told you –’ she began.

  ‘It isn’t Scopas’s fault,’ I said quietly. ‘He started by lying to me too, only I twisted his arm and threatened to ask you yourself. He was just saving you pain, or thought he was.’

  ‘Then I’ve nothing further to say on the matter.’ Her lips clamped shut.

  I sighed. ‘Very well, lady. You’re being really, really foolish, but have it your way. I’ll just have to ask the guy himself.’ I stood up. ‘This is where you saw Cosmus from?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said stiffly. ‘He came out of the portico to the right and went down the garden towards the gate at the far end.’

  I stepped out onto the portico and looked along it. Yeah; there was the door Scopas had brought me in by on the previous occasion, with the opening to Hostilius’s sitting-room beyond it. Not all that far, only a few yards. ‘Incidentally,’ I said, ‘the, uh, day that Quintus Acceius came to see your husband, the day after he was attacked, did they meet in his room?’

  ‘Yes.’ The ice was still in Veturina’s voice, but I had the impression that - again - she was beginning to regret the way she’d behaved. Not changed her mind, just begun to be sorry she hadn’t been a little less abrasive. Definitely not a looker before she leaped, Hostilius’s widow. ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And you were here?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘You hear anything? Of the conversation?’

  ‘Valerius Corvinus, I am not in the habit of eavesdropping!’

  ‘Right. Right.’ She’d hesitated for a split second, though, before she’d answered, and that was interesting, especially since what I’d got wasn’t a simple denial. Grieving widow though she might genuinely be, I had very serious doubts about Veturina. I didn’t trust her much above half, for a start. ‘Just checking. Quintus Acceius told me it was bread-and-butter legal business, nothing very important.’

  ‘Oh, you’ve asked him already?’ She looked relieved. ‘Yes, that’s right. Or the occasional words and phrases that I did hear when the breeze was in the right direction would suggest it, anyway.’

  Uh-huh; too quick, lady, too quick! And much too eager. ‘Such as?’ I kept the tone flat.

  ‘I...can’t recall anything specific.’

  And I was Cleopatra’s granny. ‘Come on, Veturina!’ I said. ‘There has to be something you remember.’

  She was looking flustered. ‘I...did hear Lucius mention a Julian inheritance tax law. Or so Castor -’ She stopped dead.

  I gave it a couple of seconds, then I said neutrally: ‘You, uh, passed on what you’d heard to your brother.’

  Veturina coloured. ‘I may have said something to him later, yes. Just in conversation.’

  Just in conversation. Yeah, right. Me, I’d bet a flask of Caecuban to a rotten fig that whatever juicy snippet she’d chosen to pass on just in conversation had had nothing to do with inheritance tax; and a second flask that - because she had passed it on - I already knew what it must’ve been, at least in broad outline. ‘You heard something that affected Castor, didn’t you?’ I said.

  I caught a quick flash of...yeah, it had to be fear; no other word would cover it. Then her face shut down like a door slamming.

  ‘Why on earth should you think that?’

  ‘Acceius mentioned bringing a letter from Publius Novius, the lawyer in Bovillae, informing them that the asking price of a property one of his clients was selling had gone up.’

  ‘So?’

  Now that was curious. I wasn’t wrong - I’d swear on all the sacred shields of Mars I wasn’t wrong - but some of the tightness had gone out of her, as if she’d been steeling herself for me to say something different. ‘The price went up to just the amount your husband’s client was prepared to pay. Me, I’d wonder if that was coincidence. I’d bet that Hostilius had the same thought.’

  She was on her feet now. ‘How dare you!’ she snapped. ‘How dare you!’

  ‘You want to tell me what the quarrel between your brother and your husband was about?’ Silence; she was glaring at me. I stood myself. Our eyes were on a level. ‘Fair enough, lady,’ I said. ‘I’ll take it up with Castor himself. Still, I’ll give you one piece of advice before I go. Your brother’s a grown man now, he should be taking responsibility for his own actions. He doesn’t need you to protect him.’ Unless it’s the other way round, of course, I added mentally; but I wasn’t going to say it aloud, not to this devious bitch.

  ‘Talk to Castor if you must,’ she said. ‘Any of the slaves will take you to him. But, Corvinus, I’d be grateful if from now on you left me strictly alone.’

  Yeah, well, we’d see about that. I nodded a curt acknowledgement and walked out.

  He’d got his own suite of rooms, over in the east wing. The slave I’d buttonholed took me there, bowed me into a study and left.

  Castor was lying on the reading couch with an open book-roll in his hands: a tall, big-boned, well-built, strong-featured guy, the male equivalent of his older sister. He glanced up and set the book aside.

  ‘Valerius Corvinus?’ he said. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  I could see why he’d be attractive to women, and why - like Marilla - they wouldn’t be too critical. Good looking, sure, but he also had a deep, serious, brown voice and a way of looking straight at you that suggested he meant what he said. There was something in the eyes, though, that I didn’t like at all. Hasty first impression or not, when push came to shove I wouldn’t trust this bugger an inch. No more than I would his sister.

  ‘Veturinus.’ I nodded acknowledgement. ‘You mind if I call you Castor?’

  ‘Everyone does. Have a seat.’ I pulled up a stool while he got up off the couch and crossed over to a small table with a winejug and some cups. ‘You like some wine?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He poured for both of us, brought me my cup over then settled back on the couch with his own. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I assume I’m in for some kind of interrogation.’

  ‘Spot on, pal,’ I said.

  He’d been smiling: a sort of conspiratorial, all-mates-together smile that faded now that he saw it wasn’t getting a return. ‘Want to tell me why I should put up with that?’ he said.

  ‘Because the day before your brother-in-law died he’d finally got the proof that you were passing on privileged information to a rival firm.’ I sipped my wine. ‘Because I think you came back here and may not actually have gone wherever the hell you went until the next day, the day of the death, giving you motive and opportunity. Because for some reason your sister is lying herself black in the face to protect you. Because you did disappear for almost ten days, and that isn’t the action of an innocent man. And finally because I can’t be bothered to pretend it’s anything but an interrogation, because otherwise you’d just give me the fucking run-around.’

  He leaned back. The colour - and what little was left of the friendliness - had left his face. ‘You can’t -’ he began.

  ‘Can’t what? Talk to you like that? Prove anything? Yes I can, sunshine. I can do both. As far as the second goes it’s just a question of putting the idea into Quintus Acceius’s mind and then going over to Bovillae to have a quiet, official word with Publius Novius.’

  He stared at me for a good ten seconds, turning the winecup round and round in his hands. Finally, he set it down.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Yes, I was giving Novius the occasional scrap of information. But nothing very important, and not for money.’

  ‘For what, then?’

  He picked up the book-roll and h
anded it to me. I looked at the title: a commentary on the praetorian edicts for the last ten years of Augustus’s principate. ‘This belongs to Novius. He lent it to me a few days ago. I want to be a lawyer, Corvinus; I’ve wanted it as long as I can remember. If my brother-in-law wouldn’t help, wouldn’t treat me as an apprentice, then I had to go elsewhere.’

  ‘Come on, pal! You’re a free agent! If Novius was willing to take you on then -’

  ‘It wasn’t that simple. You know how my brother-in-law was. How do you think he’d’ve reacted - what do you think the result would’ve been where Veturina was concerned - if he’d found out I’d joined the rival firm? Besides, the set-up suited Novius already. He wasn’t going to change it.’

  Yeah, fair points, both of them. Still... ‘But that’s what happened, isn’t it? Hostilius did find out. Care to tell me how?’

  ‘I don’t suppose it matters, now. Or not much.’ Castor took a deep breath and a long swallow of his wine. ‘He’d suspected for some time. Months. Then came the business of the letter, that Novius sent and Acceius brought round the last time he was here, raising the price of the Lutatius property. You know about that?’

  ‘Yeah, I know. Go on.’

  ‘That...confirmed it for Hostilius. He set a trap. He sent me round to the office with some documents that I was to tell Fuscus to take round to one of our clients. He’d left the door to his room open when he’d gone home earlier, and the key in the lock of his deed box. I...well, he’d obviously followed me into town and just waited until Fuscus had left and I’d had time to find the open box and look through the contents before sneaking back in. He caught me red-handed.’

  ‘The papers in the box. Any of them unexpected?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There wasn’t a will in there, by any chance?’

  His eyes shifted. ‘No. No will. Why should there be?’

  Uh-huh. ‘No reason. It was just an idea. So then you had the shouting match, Hostilius called you names, Fuscus came in, and you left.’

 

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