Trade Secrets

TWENTY-THREE

Next day I left Perilla organizing her more leisurely return, sent a skivvy round to Agron’s to apologize for cancelling the dinner invitation – I doubted that, under the circumstances, Fundanius’s to me still held good, so that one I didn’t bother about – and rode straight back to Rome.

I had a couple of bread-and-butter arrangements to make before I confronted Tullius’s killer. The first of these was to call in on Gaius Memmius, the Aventine Watch Commander who’d been handling the case, explain things to him, and borrow a couple of his squaddies, including the one who’d originally been dispatched to the scene of the crime. I’d only get one shot at this, and I wasn’t taking any chances.

The Shrine of Melobosis in the alleyway off Trigemina Gate Street was exactly as I’d left it the last time I’d been there; the little bunch of wild flowers – withered, now – lay undisturbed where I’d put them on her altar, and it didn’t look like anyone had been inside the gate since. Not the courting couple who’d found the body, certainly: they’d’ve gone somewhere else for their evening meetings.

Sad.

I swept the top of the altar clear with my hand, filled the lamp from the small bottle of oil I’d brought with me, lit it with a fire striker, ditto, and burned a pinch or two of incense: there’d been a strong sea connection in this case, and who was I to say that a sea-nymph like Melobosis hadn’t been helping out behind the scenes? At any rate, a drop of oil and a couple of pinches of incense wouldn’t break me, and I reckoned I owed the lady something, at least. Just on the off-chance.

The two squaddies had been watching me curiously. I turned and went over to the right-hand wall, directly under one of the buildings which flanked the shrine precinct.

‘This was where the body was lying, right?’ I said to the guy who’d been there before.

‘Yeah.’ He pointed. ‘Down there. Just clear of the wall.’

Uh-huh; I could still see the traces in the long, partially flattened grass. I looked up at the building; there was a window two floors directly above us. Check. It fitted, all the way along the line. Last box well and truly ticked.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s go and get it over with.’

The address the clerk at the harbour office had given me was on the second floor. We climbed the stairs. I pushed open the door and went in.

‘Good morning, sir. What can I-?’ The chief clerk in the outer office froze when he saw the squaddies behind me. The other clerks gaped, pens poised.

‘The boss around, pal?’ I said.

He swallowed. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll just see if he’s free.’

‘No, that’s OK. We can manage.’ I pushed past him and opened the communicating door.

Quintus Annius was at his desk in front of the window. If I’d gone over and looked through it and down, I’d’ve seen Melobosis’s shrine.

‘Corvinus, this is a surprise,’ he said. He smiled at the squaddies. ‘How can I help you?’

‘You killed Gaius Tullius,’ I said. ‘Or maybe your pal Doccius did.’

The smile disappeared. He stared at me. ‘That’s nonsense,’ he said. ‘Who the hell is Doccius?’

‘Uh-uh. It’s not nonsense. And you know who Doccius is perfectly well.’ There was a stool next to me. I pulled it up and sat down while the squaddies stationed themselves either side of the door. ‘You want to tell me the story yourself, or should I save you the trouble?’

He leaned back against the wall. ‘This is silly,’ he said.

I shrugged. ‘OK. Have it your way. Let’s start with the Porpoise.’ His eyelids twitched, but he just stared at me. ‘Captain Titus Nigrinus. You’re her owner, for what that’s worth, because she was a worm-eaten tub that was held together by no more than spit and a lick of paint. Which, basically, was the whole idea, because the Porpoise is at the bottom of the sea off Corsica. Or rather, close enough to Corsica for Nigrinus to have got himself and his crew safely ashore.’

‘Corvinus, this is insane!’ Annius snapped. ‘I’ve never even heard of this Porpoise of yours, nor of a Titus Nigrinus!’ He stood up. ‘Now I have business to attend to. If you won’t leave peaceably, I’ll call my chief clerk and have you-’

The bigger of the two squaddies moved forward and pushed him back onto his stool. I didn’t move. Annius sat glaring.

‘Not what the clerk in the Ostia shipping office told me, pal,’ I said. I took the flimsy from my belt and showed him it. ‘Porpoise, ninety tons, registered in Ostia. Master, Titus Nigrinus, current owner, as of a month ago, Gaius Annius. You want to read it for yourself?’

He was quiet for a long time. Then he said: ‘All right. I owned the Porpoise. I bought it from Titus Nigrinus and kept him on as captain. So what? I’m in the import-export business. Ship-owning is a natural offshoot of that. And if the ship went down then surely that’s my affair, and my loss.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘So. You like to explain why the cargo she was carrying at the time was eight hundred amphoras of water?’

‘Again, that is sheer nonsense! The Porpoise was loaded with wine and oil.’

‘Which you were transporting for a customer in Ostia by the name of Marcus Correllius, right?’

‘Possibly.’ There was a bead of sweat on his forehead. ‘You can’t expect me to remember the exact details of every order. If you’ll let me ask my clerk-’ He half-rose. The squaddie standing beside the desk cleared his throat and shifted his weight.

‘Sit down,’ I said.

He subsided, one eye on the squaddie. He was looking distinctly grey now.

‘OK, next part,’ I said. ‘You heard of a guy called Siddius? Used to work a crane at the Ostia docks?’

‘A crane operator? Of course not! Why should I?’ A muscle in his face twitched.

‘The name isn’t important. But he was loading some of your wacky amphoras when the load slipped and they got broken. Oh, Captain Nigrinus paid him on the spot to keep his mouth shut, so that was all right. The problem was, though, there was someone else on the quay who just happened to be your brother-in-law. And he’d seen the whole thing as well.’

This time Annius said nothing. He just glared at me.

‘Tullius is no fool, and like you when he gets the chance he isn’t averse to a bit of sharp practice where it turns a neat profit. He sees the water where there should be a mess of wine or oil, and like Siddius he puts two and two together. But he’s a lot cleverer than Siddius, and a lot more greedy. So instead of taking things up with the captain he checks the ship’s details at the harbour office, like I did later, and he gets your name and your office address.’ I paused. ‘How am I doing, pal?’

Annius said nothing.

‘Round he comes and you have a little chat. He wants money, of course, a lot of money, which you tell him you haven’t got. Or not at present, anyway. However, the Ides’re coming up, and the Ides are a holiday. The office is closed, there’s no one around. If he drops by then, you tell him, you’ll have the money ready and you can conduct your business with no one to disturb you. And in the interim you send word to your partners in Ostia, the other two in the scam who are doing the dirty on Correllius; Publius Fundanius, his long-term business rival, who was responsible for storing and selling on the contents of the genuine amphoras, and Publius Doccius, his deputy, who organized the switch and generally facilitated matters. Doccius – I’m guessing here, but it seems likely, because I don’t think you’ve got the guts for murder on your own – comes through to Rome lickety-split to give you some not-so-moral support.’

I was glad I’d thought to bring the squaddies with me; the look I was getting from Annius suggested that, if he hadn’t actually done the killing himself first time round, he’d happily do it now.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Tullius turns up for the pay-off and you – or Doccius – slip a knife into him. Then it’s just a case of getting rid of the body. Easy-peasy; one heave, and the problem’s solved.’ I stood up, walked to the window, and looked out and down at the patch of flattened grass two floors beneath. ‘As far as the Watch was concerned – as far as I was concerned, for that matter – he was killed down there in the shrine, although I did half-wonder even at the time why anybody planning to commit a murder would take the risk of being seen going into and coming out of a shrine that no one visits. Plus why once they’d done the job they didn’t bother to hide the corpse properly when there was plenty of cover available. Oh, sure, it was a holiday so your office itself would be closed and the alleyway deserted, but there might still’ve been people passing on the main drag who might have seen and remembered.’ I turned back round and gave him my best smile. ‘Only in the event it turned out that there was no risk involved at all. Murdering a guy in the privacy of an empty office block, then pushing him through a window overlooking a patch of ground no one’s ever in was a different thing altogether, and completely safe. Like I say, the only question is whether you or Doccius were the actual perp. Not that it matters much because in either case you, pal, are up the creek without a paddle.’

‘It was Doccius,’ Annius said quietly.

Glory and trumpets! ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘I’m happy to go with that. For the present.’

He took a deep breath. ‘Tullius was a complete bastard,’ he said. ‘A womanizer, a sponger, and a blackmailer. He’s no great loss, and he deserved all he got. The world’s a better place without him.’

‘Maybe so. But then that wasn’t your reason for killing him, was it?’ I paused. ‘Did your sister know?’

He shrugged. ‘She may have suspected. She certainly knew where this office was. But she never asked me directly, and I didn’t tell her.’

Yeah, I could appreciate that; they were well-matched, him and Annia, both cold fish, which was probably why they were so close. Maybe Tullius’s partner, Poetelius, had had a lucky escape in the matrimonial stakes, if he had escaped. And Annius was right about one thing: Gaius Tullius was no great loss to humanity.

Still, that wasn’t my concern. I turned to the squaddies.

‘You can take things from here, lads?’ I said.

‘Uh-huh,’ the guy beside the desk said. ‘No problem.’

That was that, then. I left them to it.

Not that I was feeling smug; the case was finished, sure, and I’d got our killer, but it’d left a bad taste in my mouth. Why’re these things never straight black and white, with the villain being really, really evil and the victim just that, an innocent shoved into an urn before his time? Despite what I’d said to him, despite the kind of guy he was, I had a lot of sympathy for Quintus Annius, and most of the people I’d been involved with would’ve agreed. Now all I wanted was a half-jug of wine and Perilla’s reassurance, when she got back, that I’d only been doing my job.

I went home.

My neighbour Titus Petillius was just coming out of his front door. When he saw me, he froze.

The dead-cat incident. Oh, shit; I’d forgotten all about that. This I could do without.

I kept my eyes fixed on our door and made for the steps.

‘Just one minute, Corvinus, if you please,’ he said.

Hell. I stopped and turned round.

‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’m in a bit of a hurry at present. Maybe later?’ Like after the Winter Festival. Preferably next year’s.

‘I won’t keep you long.’ Petillius came towards me and stood eyeball to eyeball. Or rather in his case eyeball to Adam’s apple. ‘And this won’t wait.’

‘Uh, right. Right.’ I glanced up at the door. Where was Bathyllus when I needed him? Fourteen fucking miles off, in Ostia, that was where, and a distraction at this point would’ve been useful. Something along the lines of: Excuse me, sir, but the kitchen’s on fire, one of the maids has run amok with a cleaver, and the Emperor is waiting to see you in the atrium. Just when you’re ready, of course.

‘OK,’ I sighed. ‘You have my full attention. What is it, Petillius?’

He was quivering with suppressed rage. ‘I went down to the City Judge’s office this morning to start proceedings against you,’ he said. ‘Killing a valuable feline, attempting to cover up the crime, and inciting a member of your household staff to engineer an assault on one of my most expensive slaves. You may expect to be notified in due course. That’s all I have to say. Good day to you.’

Bugger this. ‘Now look, pal,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little here? Not to mention the fact that I never touched your fucking cat to begin with.’

He bristled. ‘That is an outright lie, and you know it!’ he said. ‘You were caught in the act of disposing of the body. And I intend now to add verbal abuse to the list.’

‘Holy fucking Jupiter! All I did was-’

‘And don’t blaspheme!’

‘Ah … excuse me, gents.’

I looked round. There was a big guy in a workman’s tunic standing behind me who must’ve come up while Petillius was in full rant mode.

‘Yeah?’ I snapped.

‘Only I was just wondering,’ he said. ‘Did one of you happen to own a cat? A Parthian male, white?’

‘Uh … that’d be this gentleman here,’ I said.

He turned to Petillius. ‘Then I’m sorry, sir. Truth is, I ran the poor bleeder over a while back.’ Petillius was goggling at him. ‘I’m a cat-lover myself, five at the last count, wouldn’t be without the little darlings. There wasn’t nothing I could do. I drive a cart, see, and I was making a delivery at the house at the end of the road. They’re building an extension on. Your cat run off the pavement in front of me right under the wheels, and with a load of stone and bricks in the back what can you expect?’ The guy was practically sobbing. ‘Sir, I’ve agonized about it ever since. If he’d been mine, I’d’ve wanted to know how he met his end, and I’m sure you’re the same. Anyway, this morning the wife says, “Quintus, you go round, you find the owner and apologize.” So here I am.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I laid him out decent, sir, on the pavement, like. That time of night, I couldn’t do anything else. Now, I can see you’re busy, and I won’t take up any more of your valuable time. It won’t help you in your grief, I know, but I’m glad I come and told you, all the same. The gods bless you, sir.’

And he left.

There was a long silence while Petillius and I looked at each other. Then Petillius said: ‘Ah.’

‘Indeed,’ I said.

‘It seems I owe you an apology, Corvinus.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘We’ll forget about the civil charges, then, shall we?’

‘Yeah, that might be best.’

‘And of course’ – he indicated the writing on his wall that still read ‘MY NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOUR IS A CAT-KILLER’ – ‘I’ll get one of my slaves to paint that over immediately.’

‘Fine. Fine.’

‘As for your chef and the incident with the melon … well, there may have been faults on both sides. Those artistic types can be so sensitive, don’t you think?’

‘I certainly do.’

‘I’ll bid you good day, then. My regards to your wife.’

‘I’ll tell her.’

He went back inside and closed the door.

Ah, well, life, it seemed, still had something to offer after all. I grinned and climbed the steps.