Sejanus

21

Tubero!

I sat back. I'd dismissed Seius Tubero, or rather I hadn't even considered him in the first place. Not because he wasn't a double-dyed crook, or prime treason material: I'd known he'd been working for Sejanus ten years back when as a city judge he'd quashed the investigation into Regulus's murder. No, I'd ignored Tubero because Celsus had cited him along with old Cornelius Lentulus as his father's collaborator in the Sacrovir scam and I'd bracketed the two together. Which was exactly what Serenus had intended people should do.

It made sense. Now I was starting at the other end, with Tubero's involvement in the Gallic scam proven fact, it made a lot of sense. Celsus had said that the choice of Lentulus and Tubero had been his father's, not his, although he'd gone along with it. I'd assumed that the idea behind choosing them was to destroy Celsus's credibility as a prosecutor; which was true enough. But that was only half the story, seemingly. The scam had another purpose as well, and with that Serenus had been more successful than I'd given him credit for.

It was slick as virgin oil, for a start. To have accused Tubero alone of involvement with the Sacrovir revolt would've been disastrous for everyone concerned. If Serenus had turned state's evidence and gone for the guy properly he might've succeeded in taking Tubero down with him, but he wouldn't've lived much past the trial. The consequences for Tubero were equally obvious: no one knew he'd been involved, not even Celsus; he'd kept his nose clean and covered his tracks well. A direct accusation from a confessed traitor backed — as it would be backed — with hard evidence would undo all that careful planning. For Sejanus's part, the last thing he'd've wanted was for one of his shady operations to be brought out into the open, when even the Wart might start to think about treason in more general terms.

Messy, right? And in no one's interests.

So Serenus hadn't accused just Tubero. What he'd done was to have his son name Lentulus as well; and that made all the difference because the poor old duffer was patently — even blatantly — innocent: by all accounts he hadn't had marbles enough left to spearhead a trip to the bathroom, let alone a full-scale conspiracy. It was a beautiful double-double bluff. Serenus had saved his neck with the senate and with Sejanus at the same time by saying to him in effect: 'I've got the goods on you, but I'm not going to use them because I'm not stupid. It's a standoff. Let's agree to leave each other alone.' He'd succeeded as far as he could realistically have expected to; Sejanus hadn't put any pressure on the Wart to have him chopped, as he could well have been for a second treason offence; in fact, he'd persuaded the emperor to intervene on the side of clemency. Even so, Tiberius had smelled a rat and at least made sure he was convicted. And that was how matters stood until I'd gone barging in to Celsus's life and forced him to break the bargain…

Yeah. I regretted that now; or at least I regretted that it'd been necessary. I'd killed Celsus just as surely as if I'd smashed his silly head in with the iron bar myself. I just hoped that in the end his death wouldn't be wasted.

Festus was looking at me, a half smile on his face.

'Okay, Corvinus,' he said. 'Contract fulfilled. So hand over the cash and I'll be on my way.'

I took the key of the strongbox I kept by the shrine of the household gods out of the bureau, unlocked it and gave the guy his five gold pieces. He grinned, spat on them for luck and turned to go.

'Wait a minute, pal,' I said. 'We haven't finished yet. I may need you later.'

He slipped the money into his breech clout. 'What for?'

'That's a valuable chunk of evidence you have tucked away in your skull. If this ever comes to a trial you'll need to repeat it to the proper authorities.'

'You kidding? You know how they take statements from slaves.' He made a stretching movement with his two hands. 'And on a runaway they wouldn't even call time when they had what they wanted.'

'If your guarantee of freedom is as good as you say it is, pal, torture wouldn't be an issue. You'd be a free man, and it'd act retrospectively.'

I could see him considering: he may've been just a garden slave but he was honest by his lights. He'd made a reasonable point, too: in a court of law a slave's evidence against his master is inadmissible unless it's given under torture.

'Yeah. Yeah, I suppose that's right,' he said at last. 'Okay, you've got it.'

Jupiter! I thought, That must be some guarantee, if the guy's that ready to bet his life on it holding! 'So. How do I contact you?' I said. 'If and when?'

'Felix knows. But remember, I'm only willing to talk if I don't suffer for it.'

Well, I couldn't expect more. Of course it begged the question of whether I could find my friend in the lemon tunic when I wanted him.

'Another five gold pieces,' I said. 'If and when it happens. Deal?'

He grinned again: he hadn't expected that, which was why I'd made the offer.

'Deal,' he said; and left.

When I came out of the study Perilla was in the atrium. She had a letter in her hand, and she could've modelled for Athene just before she zapped Arachne into a spider.

'Just who exactly is Marilla, Marcus?' she said. 'And why is she making assignations?'

I stared at her, eyes popping and jaw sagging. 'What?'

'Here. Read it for yourself.' She passed the letter over.

Someone was crazy here, and it wasn't me. 'Lady, I don't even know anyone called Marilla,’ I said. ‘Let alone-'

'Read.'

It was a note rather than a letter. Three lines:

Valerius Corvinus, I have to get away. Father will be in Tibur for a few days, and it may be my only chance. The south-west corner of the garden wall, this evening at sunset. Please come. Marilla.

The 'Please come' had been underlined twice.

'Perilla, I swear…' I began. Then I remembered. Marilla. The beautiful Spaniard with the frightened eyes. Sextus Marius's daughter. 'Where did you get this?'

'Her maid brought it a few minutes ago. Bathyllus gave it to me because you were busy.' She sniffed. 'He didn't know the contents, of course.'

'Uh-huh. Where's the maid now?'

'I sent her down to the kitchen. Corvinus, I am waiting for an explanation.'

If it hadn't been so serious I would've laughed, because I'd never ever seen Perilla jealous before and she was greener than a ripe fig. However, this was no time for playing around. I explained to her just exactly who Marilla was. And what I suspected the sleeping arrangements were in the Janiculan villa.

'Oh, Marcus!' She sat down on the couch. 'The poor child!'

'Yeah.' I read the note again. Melodramatic stuff, the kind of thing a teenage girl might've written. Sure, it could be genuine. And if I was right about her relationship with her father she could well be desperate enough to catch at any chance of escape that offered. Maybe that was why she'd come down to Marius's Carthage room that day, to check me out.

There again, the girl might not have written the note at all. And the Janiculan at sunset would be the perfect place for a murder.

'We'd better talk to the maid,' I said.

She was no chicken, that was for sure: sixty if she was a day, and the motherly type. Her name was Brito.

'It was on my advice, sir,' she said firmly. 'Completely. She's only thirteen.' Sweet gods alive! Was that all? She'd looked older than that: mid teens, anyway. 'I've been terrified for months now since the first time it happened that the poor thing would do away with herself when I wasn't there to stop her. She may yet.'

'But why me?' I said. 'I never even spoke to the girl.'

'We don't often get visitors, sir. And she told me you had a kind face.' I didn't dare look at Perilla. 'Will you help? Please?'

She sounded genuine, I'd give her that. But even if she was…

'Look, let's be sensible about this,' I said. 'Marius may be a bastard, but he's the girl's father. Her legal guardian. If I help her to escape it's tantamount to kidnapping a minor. You know what the penalty is for that?'

'Why can't she just report him to the city judge?' Perilla said. 'Or have a member of her family do it for her?'

'Because there isn't anyone, madam.' Brito was outwardly calm, but her hands twisted together in her lap. 'The master's a widower, she's an only child, and the rest of the family's in Spain. Besides, she's frightened. Ashamed, too.'

'Shit, it's not her fault.' I stood up. 'I'll bring the charge myself. Once the authorities know what he's been up to the guy'll get a one way trip off the Tarpeian Rock with plenty of hands willing to do the shoving.'

'Will he?' Brito said quietly. 'Are you sure, sir?'

I sat down again. Yeah. She was right. Marius had everything going for him. He was socially respected, from a good provincial family, and a big wheel financially, not just in Spain but at Rome as well. Probably all over. And, most important of all, he was a pal of Sejanus's: protected — I'd used the word myself. Try to charge a guy like that with incest on a teenage girl's say-so and it wouldn't even make the courts. Worse, for the prosecutor it would be a direct ticket to an island.

'We have to help,' Perilla said. 'She's just a child.'

'Yeah, I know.' I sighed. 'But it isn't as simple as that. You say the family's in Spain?' Brito nodded. 'So she'd be our responsibility, at least for the time being. And like I say, it's kidnapping.'

'Aunt Marcia would take her.' Perilla's courtesy aunt Marcia lived in retirement up in the Alban Hills near Caba. You didn't even see many goats, that far out.

'Uh-uh,' I said. 'It's too risky.'

'Marcus, please!'

I'd never seen Perilla so upset. I swallowed.

'Yeah, okay,' I said. 'We'll give it a try.'

She hugged me. Brito was beaming.

'You won't regret it, sir,' she said. 'I promise.'

Maybe not. But I wasn't taking any bets.