Germanicus

41

Maybe it was thanks to the Falernian, or maybe I'd just got fed up being treated like one of Lamia's Tyrian glasses, but I woke up the next morning feeling great. Sure, the hole in my ribs hadn't magically disappeared, but the pain was no worse now than the aftereffects of a clout with a wooden sword at the gym. And not a patch on one of Scylax's famous massages.

We were out in the garden having breakfast when Bathyllus came through with what looked like a twelve year old kid in tow. I didn't recognise the guy at first. Then I did: Flavonius Lippillus of the Aventine Watch.

'So how're the ribs, Corvinus?' he said.

I tossed him an apple with my bad arm. Not a bad throw. Not good, mind, but it went the distance and he caught it without having to stretch. 'That answer your question, pal?'

'Just about.' He bit into the apple and sat down on the bench beside the hedge.

I introduced Perilla.

She smiled at him. 'Would you like some bread and olives?'

'I had breakfast long ago, ma'am. Thanks all the same.'

I dunked a scrap of my own bread in olive oil and speared a piece of cheese with my knife. That was another sign I was cured: I don't usually worry too much about breakfast but this morning I was starved. 'Who told you about my ribs, Lippillus?’ I said. ‘And what the hell are you doing here after we agreed to hang the plague sign up?'

He shrugged. 'The first question's simple. You're a purple striper, and purple stripers don't get knifed in German beer dens all that often.'

'It happened in the Subura. That's not your district.'

'Maybe not. But word gets around. Even when big Illyrian blacksmiths don't bother to lodge a complaint.' Uh-huh. Shit, the kid was smart, all right. It gave me a creepy feeling of being watched. You begin to wonder just how public your private affairs are. 'As far as being here's concerned, I just happened to be in the neighbourhood officially, so I thought I'd call in.'

'Another murder?'

'Not quite.' He looked shamefaced. 'The lady down the road lost her pet monkey.'

Oh, yes,' Perilla murmured. 'Fulvia Lucilla, Marcus. The City Watch commander's aunt. His old, childless and very wealthy aunt.'

'You've got it, ma'am.' Lippillus's voice was expressionless. 'The boss put the entire force on full alert. We found the brute yesterday perched on the roof of the Queen Juno temple pelting the priests with loose tiles. I've just brought it back. Complete with Watch commander, all smiles and hair oil.'

I laughed. 'No kidding?'

'No kidding. The bastard pissed all over my tunic.' He glanced sideways at Perilla; now he was laughing too. 'The monkey, not my boss.'

'Hey, Bathyllus!' I shouted. The little guy was kicking his heels in the shelter of the portico. 'Bring our guest here a cup of wine. The special stuff we keep for monkey rescuers with pissed-on tunics.'

'You know, Corvinus, I was just hoping you'd say that.' Lippillus's grin widened. 'I'm parched. It's okay for you decadent purple stripers who can get up when you like, but us workies have had a hard day already.'

Point taken. This was a man after my own heart. I called Bathyllus back. 'Scratch that last order, little guy. Make it a jug. And two cups.' I raised my eyebrows at Perilla, but she shook her head; she already had her chilled fruit juice. She was experimenting with new varieties, and her latest was a mixture of pear and seriously-expensive banana. Ah, well. To each his own. I turned back to Lippillus. 'So. What's the news?'

'Special offer. You get two for the price of one. First you know the investigation into Regulus's death has been stopped?'

'Yeah. That message I got.'

'So now I've got the name you wanted. The guy responsible was Lucius Seius Tubero.' He paused for a reaction. 'You don't know him?'

'Not personally. He's one of the ex-consuls, isn't he?'

'Right. A half brother of Aelius Sejanus's.' Lippillus kept his voice neutral, but I knew he'd made the jump himself. Like I say, the kid was smart. Still, this wasn't his quarrel, let alone his official business, so we both pretended he hadn't.

'Yeah,' I said. 'That fits. Thanks. So what's the freebie?'

'I didn't get that until earlier this morning. There's no case now anyway, at least I don't think there is. We fished your butcher pal out of the Tiber a few hours ago, just north of the Stairs.'

I'd been carving the rind off a lump of cheese, and I set it down carefully. How he'd made the Carillus link I didn't know, but it was academic now anyway.

'You don't say. Murdered?'

'Unless he managed to stab himself twice in the back, yes.'

Well, I wasn't sorry, although I'd've liked to nail the guy myself. No prizes for guessing who'd done it, either, or why. A one-way river trip was cheaper than a new start in Marseilles or Cologne. More permanent, too.

Bathyllus came back with the wine. He poured and Lippillus drank and wiped his lips with a napkin. 'It seems more of a coincidence than it is,' he went on. 'There's an old pier by the Stairs, and stuff floating downriver often snags there. The body had been in the water for days. Maybe it'd even come down the Drain, although with the dry weather that's unlikely. Still recognisable despite the rats. Just. We're not taking the matter any further, of course.' He turned to Perilla. 'Sorry, ma'am.'

'That's all right,' she said faintly. 'Marcus, I think I'll go inside for a little and leave you to talk. Nice to meet you, Flavonius Lippillus.'

He rose politely as she left and then sat down again. We drank for a while in silence and Lippillus nibbled at an olive.

'One more thing,' I said. 'You know anything about a guy named Publius Vitellius?'

He gave me a sharp look. 'Germanicus's pal? The one who helped prosecute Calpurnius Piso?'

'That's right.'

'Nothing official, no.' The eyes were still sharp. 'Nor unofficial either, if that's the sort of thing you're interested in. Just the usual background stuff.'

I topped up his wine cup. 'Anything you've got.'

'That's not much. He was on Germanicus's staff in Germany, involved in the campaign against the tribes. And of course he had a bad time coming back.'

'Yeah? Tell me.'

'If you're really interested you'd do better asking someone else. I'm no military expert.'

'You've just got the ordinary layman's knowledge. Sure, I'll bet.' I'd bet, too, that if I asked him about anything from domestic plumbing to the current state of trade with India he'd still claim to be an amateur and then give me exactly what I wanted to know. 'You're doing okay as far as I can see. What bad time?'

'Germanicus's fleet got caught by the low tides along the German coast. He lightened the ships by beaching two of his legions and ordering Vitellius to take them on by land. Trouble was, that meant crossing the mud flats. When the tide came in it was a shambles. A lot of the men were drowned before the fleet could pick them up again.'

'Uh-huh.' I sipped my wine. If I was looking for a reason why Vitellius should betray Germanicus then I'd found it. Forget flash and histrionics, this was incompetence pure and simple. Generals have been wary of ocean tides since old Julius lost half his British fleet because he hadn't tied it up properly. That was seventy years ago, and there was no excuse nowadays for failing to take the local conditions into account. Two legions meant ten thousand men, plus the auxiliaries and baggage handlers who would've contributed another couple of thousand at least; a major part of the Rhine force. Germanicus could've lost them all without a blow struck in anger, and through his own stupidity. Almost as bad as the Varus disaster in the Teutoburg. To a soldier like Vitellius a blunder like that would've been unforgivable…

Lippillus was getting to his feet. 'Corvinus, if you're going to drift off then I'll leave you to it, okay?'

'Hey, I'm sorry!' I brought my eyes back into focus. 'Sit down. There's still the best part of a jug here.'

'Yeah, I know. But I'm on duty, remember. I only called in while the boss is smarming his aunt, and if I report back legless he'll have my guts. Nice seeing you again, though.'

'Same here.' I stood up too. 'Thanks, Lippillus. You've been a great help.'

'Nothing. Sorry about leaving you with the wine. It's good stuff. Better than the Aventine gutrot Mother buys.'

'It's okay.' I made a mental note to send Bathyllus round to his flat with a jar or two. 'Hey. Come round for dinner tonight. We'll finish the jug properly.'

He hesitated. 'I'd like that. But Mother might be a problem.'

Well, he didn't look like a mummy's boy to me, but then there might be family circumstances I didn't know about. Something like Perilla's, even. Still, I owed the guy far too much just to drop him. 'No hassle,' I said. 'Bring your mother with you.'

His face cleared. 'You sure?'

'Sure I'm sure.' I walked him to the gate in the wall. 'I'll even send a litter.'

'Okay. That would be great. Thanks.'

'You eat fish?'

'I eat anything. And so does Mother.'

'Good.' I opened the gate that gave out directly onto the street. 'See you later, then.'

When Lippillus had gone I settled down with my wine cup to think. So I'd been right, and Sejanus was behind this whole business: Tubero's involvement put that beyond doubt. The only question I still couldn't answer was why. Sure, he was following instructions and he had the Wart's backing, but what game was he playing for himself? Not power, that was sure. Sejanus was well enough connected through his mother's family, but he was still practically a nobody and he'd got as high as anyone outwith the imperial family itself could go. He was sole commander of the Praetorians, which was one of the empire's top jobs, and if the rumours in the Market Square were right he all but led the emperor by the nose already. And, as Cotta had said, he'd squirrelled a whole pack of his relatives into the government system. So power was out: he'd got it already, or as much as he could hope for. Money, too; that came naturally with power. Security? Tiberius was pretty constant in his likes and dislikes, and although they determined how he treated people he was fair, and he judged by the evidence. Despite his kinship with Germanicus the Wart hadn't liked the guy, and he positively loathed Agrippina. If either of them had tried to slag off Sejanus for some kind of double dealing, real or imaginary, he'd've listened, sure, but he wouldn't've bent over backwards to believe them without firm proof. Unless, of course, that was it: Germanicus had had the proof, and he'd threatened to pull the carpet from under Sejanus while his own plots matured. And Regulus had somehow got hold of the secret. Whatever the hell it was.

I shook my head. No. As a theory it was too complicated, and I could never prove it anyway. Not now, not without a lot more digging, and after Tiberius's warning I couldn't risk that. I'd just have to wait and see if anything turned up. Or, of course, drop the whole thing down the nearest manhole and take up wood-turning…

Just then Perilla came out. She had my mother with her. Mother swept over in a cloud of perfume, kissed me, and planted a covered casserole on the table.

'Marcus, dear,' she said, 'I'm dreadfully sorry. We've been away and I've only just heard. How are you, darling?' I could see she'd noticed the wine. 'I've brought you some soup. Barley with rocket. Much better for you than that nonsense.'

Barley with rocket. Oh, hell. I tried a grin, but it didn't come off: mothers are all the same, and you never quite get rid of them.

Maybe Lippillus wasn't such a rarity after all.