Deadly Election

49

Faustus was happy to give me the signet ring, so I took a short walk to Fountain Court where I collected its partner. I tied them together with a snip of red thread, wrapped them in a handkerchief for safer keeping and put them in a pouch on my belt.

I had been neglecting my work. While I was home, I climbed the six flights of stairs to my office, to check for messages. There were none. Such is the life of a private informer. I had a quick tidy of the couch, rearranged pots on a shelf, threw out dead flowers and put the rubbish pail on the landing ready to take downstairs. Rodan was supposed to come up and empty it, but rarely did.

I was about to leave when I heard someone puffing on the stairs. A client at last – and one I knew. All dressed in her smartest stole, up struggled the wife of Titus Niger. Amazed, I brought her in, seated her on the clients’ couch to recover her breath and waited for more surprises.

‘Flavia Albia! I saw your notice.’ I must have looked blank. ‘In the Forum. Was that you? I thought it must be, and it said to come here.’

‘Oh!’ She meant my appeal for witnesses to help trace Strongbox Man. ‘Well, we know who he is now, so I can take down the notice – or alter it because we know more about him … Now, what can I do for you? First, I don’t think I know your name?’

‘Claudia Galeria.’

A few swift questions ascertained why Galeria had come here alone. ‘I don’t like that fellow who has grappled on to me. I don’t like him interfering in my business.’

‘I imagine he’s offering to deal with your late husband’s estate?’

‘Yes, he is.’

‘You don’t need a man for that.’

‘Don’t I? He’s trying to take over everything. I was knocked sideways at first, but I am now ready to tackle things. He says I have to have a guardian or it is not legal. This is what I want to ask you about. I saw you at that auction; you looked as if you knew how things are done.’

Well, that summed up my work. I was pleased with her assessment.

‘I can certainly help you get rid of that man, if that’s what you would like.’ He might retreat after a few well-chosen words from me or, if not, I could call in muscle to warn him off. ‘Did Niger leave a will? If he bequeathed everything to you, all you have to do is this: find his assets, pay the right inheritance tax – I have an aunt who does figurework; she sometimes helps my clients – then you can enjoy your property in your own right, while you get over losing Niger. You don’t want to be worried by anything financial while you are learning to cope with your loss. I can introduce you to a very sympathetic woman banker, if you have investments to look after. I have been widowed myself and I always advise my clients to stay in their house if possible, or at least the neighbourhood they know, and to remain single until they have passed at least two anniversaries.’

‘That man said I had to marry again in six months.’

‘Two or three years. Unenforceable anyway. Don’t worry about it. He is probably scared you will see through him if you wait. He’s right, because you already have done! Do you mind if I ask, did Niger leave things behind in a mess?’

‘It’s all neat,’ his wife boasted, proud of him. ‘He was organised. He did say if anything ever happened to him, I should marry again and he won’t haunt me …’

‘No, he didn’t seem the haunting type.’

‘He was all right. I cannot see the point,’ complained Claudia Galeria, ‘of passing from one man, who wasn’t a bad one, straight to another, who could be anything.’

I told her cheerfully I could help her avoid that.

We settled for a proper client talk: what I could do, what I could not do, what she did not require or want, what I would charge her. ‘The bonus is, unlike the fool you are dumping, you will never be asked to marry me.’

We laughed. She had been married to Niger for thirteen years. There had been many floors to mop, but basically she did not regret it; what more can you ask? ‘I could buy a little slave now to do the floors and that, couldn’t I?’

‘You could. You’d have to train her to your high standards.’

‘I might enjoy that!’ She actually chuckled, and I could see she intended to do it. ‘It’s a relief talking to you, Flavia Albia.’

‘This is my job. This is why people come to me.’

Then she said there was another thing she wanted to ask: could I put up a notice in the Forum, like the one I drew up about Valens, to ask people to come forward and tell us if they knew what had happened to Niger?