Ode to a Banker

XXXII

My next visit to Lysa, the ex-wife and lucky heiress, caught her off guard. Not expecting me, she made the mistake of being in.

Now I had gained admittance, I saw that as places go it was a desirable residence. We were sitting in a salon that was cool in the July heatwave, though lit expertly from high windows above. A series of patterned rugs was spread on the marble floor. Lush curtains tapestried the walls. Our seating was bronze-framed, with substantial padding. In a corner, on a shelf, stood a lavish wine-warmer, the kind that burns charcoal in a large chamber with a fuel store underneath, out of use at present, due to the weather no doubt. Perfect, unmottled fruit gleamed in translucent glass bowls.

'Not plying your loom like a dutiful housewife?'

It was a joke. Lysa had been reading over columns of figures while a slave who was clearly accustomed to the task took dictated notes. As I entered, I had heard the ex-wife composing messages about the bank's clients in a confident voice. She was better-spoken than Vibia, even though I guessed Lysa had humbler origins.

'Is your son around?'

'No.'

She was probably lying but I had no excuse to search the place. 'How is he bearing up to his father's loss?'

'Grief-stricken, poor boy,' sighed his mother, still lying I reckoned. But he tries to be brave.'

'Belonging to wealthy parents must help him cope.'

'You are a horrible cynic, Falco. Diomedes is a very sensitive soul.'

'What are his talents? What are you planning to do with him?'

'I am trying to help him decide what he wants to be in life. Once he has readjusted to his father's death, I believe he will review his ambitions. Marry soon. Settle down to building up a portfolio of property. Make something of himself in the community.'

'Public life?' I raised my eyebrows.

'Chrysippus dearly wanted him to advance in society.'

'Many a banker's descendant has done that,' I conceded. 'Our noble Emperor, for one.' Finance was a smart entrance-ticket. The descendants hit Rome well provided with money, if nothing else; all they had to acquire was social respectability. The Flavian family did that by astute marriages, as I recalled. Then civil and military positions, right up to the highest, jumped into their welcoming arms.

'Who is Diomedes marrying?'

'We have yet to decide on a suitable young woman. But I am in discussion currently with a good family '

'One nuptial step at a time, eh?' I scoffed offensively.

Lysa knew I had reached the real subject of the interview. Already she was looking uncomfortable – though that was probably because I had not yet told her what my errand was.

'I've just been given some startling information, Lysa.'

'Really?' While seeming indifferent, she abandoned the accounts and signalled to her scribe to leave the room. No maid had appeared to chaperone her. She was a tough woman, whom I distrusted; I would have welcomed the presence of a chaperone – to protect me.

'I hear you have inherited half the trapeza.' Lysa inclined her head. 'Lucky woman! Did you know about your place in the will, when we discussed it previously?'

'The bequest had always been intended.'

'But you modestly kept silent?'

'There could always have been,' she said a little archly, 'some last-minute change of plan.' It would be a brave testator who would change his will after Lysa believed she was his main legatee.

'With the new wife angling to improve her own position?' I hinted. 'Had Chrysippus ever suggested that he might change the inheritance?'

'No.'

'And after the divorce, you continued to manage the affairs of the trapeza?'

'Women are not permitted to engage in banking,' she corrected me.

'Oh, I don't believe that ever inhibited you. Are you saying thatLucrio runs everything? Presumably, he does what you tell him?'

'No one person has ever made all the decisions. Chrysippus and I – and Lucrio too – were a joint board of management.'

'Oh, Chrysippus did come into it?'

She looked surprised. 'It was his business.'

'But you were the force running it – as you still are. And now it's in the joint hands of you and Lucrio – but I am told you are about to remarry!'

'Yes, I shall probably do that,' Lysa responded, unmoved by my fierce approach. 'Who told you?'

'Lucrio.'

I wondered if she was annoyed with the freedman, but apparently not. 'Did he name the man I am marrying?'

'Unfortunately he forgot to mention that.' He had told me coyly that I should ask her to provide the details. 'So, who is this lucky bridegroom, Lysa? Someone you have known for a long while?'

'You could say so.'

'A lover?'

'Certainly not!' That made her furious. Informers are used to it. Whatever she claimed, I would look into whether she had had an existing affair with the new husband.

'Own up. Don't you realise this places you at the top of my suspects list?'

'Why should it?'

'You and your paramour had a prize incentive to kill Chrysippus – so you could acquire the bank.'

The woman laughed gently. 'No need, Falco. I was always going to inherit the bank anyway.'

'Your new boyfriend may have wanted more direct ownership – and he may have been impatient, too.'

'You do not know what you are talking about.'

'Tell me then.'

Lysa spoke frostily. 'It has been the custom for centuries when Greek banks are inherited, to leave them jointly to the owner's widow and his trusted agent.' That was what Lucrio had told me. He had held back delicately, however, on the next peculiar Athenian joke: 'To protect the business, it is also the custom that the two heirs will subsequently join forces.' Then Lysa said, as if it were nothing extraordinary, 'I shall be marrying Lucrio.'

I gulped. Then, though it appeared not to be a love match, I wished the future bride every happiness. The couple's shared wealth presumably rendered formal best wishes for their future superfluous.