In at the Death

29

It was mid-afternoon when I finally got home, but Perilla was in the dining room and the table was still set for lunch. She came off the couch like the upholstery had just spontaneously combusted.

‘Marcus! Where the hell have you been?’ she snapped.

Bugger, I should’ve thought of that: when the last thing you’ve told your wife is that you’re just popping over to the Praetorian camp to have a word with Sertorius Macro re a mysterious death probably involving two of his soldiers, unscheduled detours on the way back aren’t such a bright idea. And the litter would’ve arrived back hours ago.

‘Pompey’s theatre,’ I said. ‘No hassles, lady. Seriously.’ I lay down on the other couch and reached for the cold pork and pickles. I wasn’t feeling proud of myself where making connections was concerned, not proud at all. Albucilla’s ‘thick’ had been spot-on. ‘Something came up.’

‘Namely?’

‘You remember that statue of Diana I found Soranus propped against?’

‘Of course I do! What about it?’

‘It wasn’t. Or rather in a way it wasn’t. I had a chat with the caretaker. The thing’s new, only been there for eighteen months. Prior that the plinth was empty; but prior to that — three years or so prior — it had another statue on it. Care to guess whose?’

She threw herself back on the couch. ‘Marcus, I have spent the last two hours worried sick waiting for you to get home, and I am in no mood for guessing! Just tell me.’

‘Aelius Sejanus’s.’

She stared at me. ‘What?’

‘Yeah. That can’t be coincidence. If we’re playing games here — which we are — then we’ve got the Sejanus connection again. Whether we like it or not.’

‘But we’ve already been through all this! Anything involving Sejanus can’t be relevant! Tiberius and Macro together stamped out — ’ She stopped and put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh!’

‘“Oh”’ is right.’ I tore a bread-roll in half and bit savagely into one of the pieces. ‘I made that jump myself about ten seconds after I came up with the theory about the statue. Sejanus is the key to this whole business, and I’ve been too sodding blind to see it. Macro was responsible — directly responsible — for hunting down and killing his supporters after the guy himself was chopped. Albucilla was Sejanus’s mistress, and Acutia lost a husband. Acutia just happens to take up with Pontius Fregellanus, who’s on Macro’s staff and therefore has direct access to him on a regular basis.’ I scowled. ‘Hell! Of all the stupid, myopic — !’

‘Marcus, stop it.’ Perilla was frowning. ‘Let me get this clear. What you’re saying — or are about to say — is that Albucilla and Acutia are plotting to kill Sertorius Macro. The motivating factor being revenge.’

‘It makes sense. And don’t discount revenge as a motive, either.’

‘I’m not discounting revenge at all; in fact motive is one of your strongest arguments, and I have nothing against it. But you don’t think there are, well,’ — she hesitated — ‘inconsistencies?’

Damn. When Perilla adopted that tone you learned to go careful. I laid down the bread. ‘What inconsistencies would these be?’ I said.

‘First of all, why now? They’ve had over five years, life has moved on.’

That one I was ready for. ‘Opportunity. They’re women — assuming the core of the conspiracy is Albucilla and Acutia, who’ve got the real axes to grind — and Macro’s a public figure. More, he’s the Praetorian commander. He’s squirrelled away in the Praetorian barracks and he’s got four thousand plus of the best troops in the empire to guard his back. Before they could make their move they needed an insider like Fregellanus. And before you say anything, lady, persuading him to join the team would’ve taken time and delicacy. He’s not the hasty type, and he’s no natural killer.’

‘All right. But that leads me on to my second point. It’s all very amateurish, isn’t it?’

‘Of course it is. It had to be. However badly they hate Macro, Albucilla and Acutia are the women they are. Acutia especially. She’s a mouse, but even a mouse can turn given the right circumstances. And as far as Fregellanus is concerned, poor sap though he is he was the best they were likely to get.’ I reached for the cold pork stew. ‘Added to which, who else could they rope in? Macro was pretty thorough. All Sejanus’s supporters — his real supporters, not just the fair weather guys who licked his backside while he was in charge — are either dead or eating beets in Lusitania. And if they’re not — like Albucilla’s ex Secundus — then they’re keeping their heads well down in case next time Macro decides to chop them off. Which he would. Lady, I am right!’

‘Hmm,’ Perilla said. She was twisting her curl furiously, and I had to suppress a smug smile. I was winning here, and we both knew it. ‘So if you are right then how do the others fit in?’

‘What others?’

‘Ahenobarbus. Carsidius and Balbus. Not to mention Papinius himself.’

‘Jupiter, Perilla, give me a break, will you? How the fuck should I know?’

‘It’s your theory, dear. It has to take everything into account. And don’t swear, it smacks of desperation.’

Hell. The lady was right, at least about the theory having to cover all the angles. It didn’t, nowhere near, even I had to admit that.

She was right about the desperation, too.

I filled a cup from the winejug. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Okay, admitted; I haven’t a clue. None of them fits at present, not nowhere, not directly. But the root of this business has to be a plot against Macro, it has to be. I can feel it in my water. And at least it explains Soranus’s death.’

‘Really? Then let’s leave the rest aside and begin with that.’

‘Fine.’ I took a swig of wine. ‘To a certain extent, Soranus was in the plot already from the start. He was Albucilla’s long-term lover and a natural villain. He’d probably’ve got involved anyway just for the hell of it.’

‘You’re assuming that he was involved.’

‘Gods, lady, he’s the one who ended up against the statue with his throat cut! Of course he was involved!’

‘I’m sorry, Marcus, but that’s not good enough to substitute for a lack of motive. Soranus had nothing personal against Macro, as far as we know, and he was a pragmatist. How did he benefit? I’m perfectly willing to accept that he was part of a plot to kill him, yes, of course I am. But I still need to know why.’

‘Because he was blackmailing Papinius.’ I took another mouthful of wine. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I know, that doesn’t make logical sense. But there’s a whole chunk of this business that we’re missing. Macro knew what was going on. Sure he did, he had to: Soranus was killed by Aponius and Pettius, Aponius and Pettius are Praetorians and barring Fregellanus who’d have no reason at all to kill the guy Macro’s the only person in a position to use them, as well as having a credible motive. Plus he can cover his tracks by producing a set of spurious orders proving they were nowhere near Rome when it happened.’

Perilla looked up quickly. ‘Did he?’ she said.

Oh. Right. I hadn’t given her the details of my visit to the Praetorian barracks yet. ‘Yeah. Turns out they’re both on the strength, only officially they’ve been on Capri for the last twelve days.’

‘Ah. Now that is odd.’

‘Damn right it’s odd! Another odd thing was how matey the guy was. It seemed almost as if — ’ I stopped.

‘Marcus?’

‘Almost as if,’ I said slowly, ‘he didn’t mind whether I knew Soranus was killed on his orders or not.’ I shook my head. ‘No, even that’s not right. It was his whole mood. The bastard seemed actually pleased that I might think he’d been responsible.’

‘But you’ve just said that, in effect, he lied by claiming your two murderers were elsewhere. That hardly squares with an admission of responsibility, even a tacit one.’

‘Pleased is one thing, lady; an admission is something else. He wouldn’t come out in the open about admitting he’d had Soranus killed because — ’

‘He’d have to tell you why. Or refuse to tell you.’

‘Right. And that would put him square in the frame for being involved in — or at least knowing about — whatever the hell else is going on here. That’s the side of things that — ’

I froze. Oh, gods. Sweet immortal gods.

‘Marcus?’

I waved her down. ‘Macro is involved on the Papatius side. He has to be, because Aponius and Pettius were tailing me the time I talked to Caepio at the tenement. That part of it had nothing to do with Soranus and Albucilla.’

Perilla went very quiet. Then she said: ‘Ah.’

‘We’ve got a link between the two halves of the case, lady. For what it’s worth, because I for one haven’t a sodding clue on that score.’

She was looking thoughtful. ‘You haven’t considered,’ she said slowly, ‘that it might’ve been your Aponius and Pettius who murdered Papinius as well? On Macro’s orders?’

I stared at her. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It has a certain neatness, doesn’t it? We have two…call them professional murderers. Certainly men used to killing, and far from stupid; very professional and very efficient. Papinius’s death was meticulously planned and executed; if it hadn’t been for your accidental witness across the landing you’d never have known the murderers existed. Doesn’t it make sense?’

‘Gods, Perilla, where do I start? I told you, Macro was pleased that I was on the case and getting somewhere! Genuinely pleased, as far as I could tell, not just daring me to do my worst because I’d never be able to touch him! His two murderers saved my sodding life on the Old Ostia Road when they could’ve just sat back and watched while the muggers took me out, and the case with me. And why the hell should Macro want young Papinius dead anyway? We’ve been through that before. He was no threat to anyone. He was a nineteen-year-old kid still wet behind the ears in a bread-and-butter job which — ’

‘But he was a threat. Somehow. Surely that’s where Ahenobarbus comes in.’

I skidded to a halt. Shit, she was right; I’d forgotten about Ahenobarbus. We still hadn’t fitted him into the picture, and he had to be a major piece. The guy was no lightweight. He didn’t have anything near Macro’s clout, mind, practically speaking, nothing like it, but he was in a whole different class from Papinius. And, I remembered with a faint stirring of the hairs on the back of my neck, when I’d talked to him I’d got the distinct impression that the guy was scared on his own account…

Scared. That was another thread that had run through this whole business. Soranus had been scared; so had Acutia, or she’d looked and sounded seriously worried, anyway, the one time I’d seen and heard her. I remembered Fregellanus that morning, when I’d come into his office; I’d thought he’d been scared when he saw me, but the first person he would’ve seen would’ve been Titus, the Praetorian guardsman. And Albucilla had been completely terrified. She’d looked behind me, too; perhaps to see if I’d brought any soldiers with me.

If Ahenobarbus had been scared then only someone of the calibre of Macro could’ve caused it. And the fact that he was put him firmly on the conspirators’ side of the line…

‘Ahenobarbus was involved in the plot against Macro,’ I said.

Perilla went very still. Then she said in a quiet voice: ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m sure. I should’ve thought of it this morning, after I’d talked to Albucilla. That’s another bit of information you’re missing, lady: Albucilla’s skipping town, possibly Italy. When I went round there she was in the middle of packing. I suggested she and Soranus had been blackmailing Papinius because of some scam involving Ahenobarbus and the fire commission, and she laughed in my face. Called me stupid. Which I am.’ My fist hit the table. ‘Shit! They were on the same side!’

‘But — ’ Perilla began.

‘Excuse me, sir.’

I looked round. Bathyllus had oiled in from the house, and he was carrying a small box.

‘Yeah, little guy. What is it?’ I said.

‘This just came for you.’

‘Who from?’

‘The slave didn’t say. He simply gave it to me and left.’

‘Jupiter and all the holy gods, Bathyllus — !’

‘Yes, sir, yes, I know. But there was really nothing I could do.’

‘No message, naturally.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Okay, little guy. You’re hopeless. Bugger off.’ I took the box and opened it.

Inside was an iron key. Nothing else. Just that.

Games.