A dying light in Corduba

LXV

I gulped discreetly. Immediately she said it I could see there might be an appeal. Yes, Vespasian wanted to go down in history as an honest servant of the state. But yes too, he was notoriously personally mean.

He came from a middle-class family, Sabine farmers turned tax collectors: hardworking, intelligent folk on their way up – but with never enough money to run on fair terms with the old patrician families. He and his elder brother had clawed their way through the Senate to the highest Posts, always in comparative poverty, always having to mortgage last year's gains in order to move on to the next magistracy. When Vespasian, having made it to consul somehow, was awarded the governorship of Africa, his brother had been compelled to fund him – and while he was there in his exalted position, Vespasian became a legend: for what? For acquiring a monopoly in the supply of salted fish…

Why should he change? He inherited empty coffers from Nero. He had the new man's zeal to make his mark. Grabbing the market in a staple commodity could still be the Emperor's dream. He ruled the Empire now, but he was just as short of funds for the business of government and probably just as eager for cash in hand himself.

'There could be various ways this would work for Laeta,' I suggested slowly. 'The most basic is the one I mentioned – a local cartel is set up, stage-managed by Attractus, and Laeta agrees that the state will allow it to exist provided he gets a large Personal bribe. The next stage, more sophisticated, is that he exerts even more pressure; he says the cartel will only be allowed to continue if the Emperor gets a huge Percentage of the Profits.'

'That's what I thought,' said Perella. 'Both of those needed Anacrites wiped out. He was trying to stop the cartel.'

'Such a simple soul! Wiping out Anacrites has an additional bonus for Laeta: he can then take over the spies' network.'

'So you agree with me. That's it?'

'I think Laeta might be toying with even more elaborate plans. For one thing, I can't see him staying happy with Attractus as prime mover in the cartel. This probably explains why he hired me to expose the conspiracy: he specifically complained about Attractus getting above himself. So let's assume what he really wants from me is to remove Attractus. But what then happens to the cartel?'

Perella was rushing ahead. 'Suppose the cartel is made public, and it's banned – and the estates of the conspirators are all confiscated. That would attract Vespasian!'

'Yes, but what would happen? We're not talking about another Egypt here. Augustus was able to grab Egypt, capture its wonderful grain, and not only accrue huge profits for himself but gain power in Rome by controlling the grain supply and using it for propaganda, with himself as the great benefactor ensuring the poor are fed.'

Vespasian had actually shown that he appreciated the value of the corn supply by sitting in Alexandria during his bid for the throne, and tacitly threatening to keep the grain ships there with him until Rome accepted him as emperor. Would he contemplate a similar move with oil? If so, would it actually work?

'So why can't the same thing happen with Baetican oil, Falco?' Perhaps after all Perella belonged to the active type of agent, rather than the puzzle-solving kind. She was adept at strangling her rivals, but lacked a grasp of political functions. In the complex web of deceit where we were now stuck, she would need both.

'Baetica is already a senatorial province, Perella. This is going to be the problem. It may be why, in the end, nothing will ever happen. Anything in Baetica that's officially taken over, confiscated, or otherwise state-controlled will simply benefit the Treasury. For the Emperor that would hardly be a disaster; the Senate's control of the Treasury is nominal and he himself could use the money for public works, sure. But the olive oil is never going to be a monopoly in his personal control, and he'll get no personal credit for Producing an oil dole for the populace. No; better for him that whatever happens is underhand. That way there may be profits.'

'So you're saying, Falco, the ideal result for Laeta is to destroy Anacrites, destroy the Quinctii – and yet keep the cartel?'

'Apparently!' I could see how it might be organised too. 'I bet Laeta will propose something like this: in Rome the estate owners, and anyone else in the trade who joins in, will all become members of the Society of Olive Oil Producers of Baetica as a cover for their operations. The Society will then make large personal gifts to the Emperor – and smaller, but still substantial ones to Laeta of course. It will look like the kind of ingratiating behaviour that's officially allowed.'

'So what can you and I do about this?'

'It all depends,' I said thoughtfully, 'whether Vespasian has been informed of the devious plan.' Remembering earlier conversations with Laeta I reckoned he would not yet have shared his ideas with the Emperor. He would want to be sure his proposals would work. It would suit Laeta to complete the scheme, then present it to his imperial master as a working proposition. He was assured of the credit then. While the cartel was being set up, Laeta could keep open an escape route in case anything went wrong. If that happened he could fall back on the straightforward move, holding his hand from personal involvement and gaining his credit by exposing the plot. But if everything went well, he could produce the more elaborate scheme for his imperial master with a splendid – though secret – secretariat flourish.

He would always have kept a secondary plan to cover snags. Me finding out too much, for instance, on the way to removing Attractus. So he had hired and kept Selia paid up, in case he wanted to eliminate me.

He had made at least one serious miscalculation: for this plan to work, the oil producers themselves had to want a cartel. If they sneakily took the honest route, Laeta would be nowhere.

The other problem would be if Vespasian decided that he preferred to keep his hands clean now that he was an emperor.

'Anacrites had seen what was going to happen.' Perella was still talking. 'He always reckoned Laeta wanted to put the cartel in place, then offer it to the Emperor as his bargaining piece. Laeta's reward will be power – a new intelligence empire, for a statt.'

'It's cunning. He will demonstrate that Anacrites has simply blundered in and threatened the success of a lucrative scheme – failing in his dumb spy-like way to grasp the potential for imperial exploitation. Laeta, by contrast, exhibits superb speculative nous, proving himself the better man. He is also loyal – so hands his idea to a happy and grateful Emperor.'

Perella looked sick. 'Pretty, isn't it?'

'Disgusting! And you're telling me before Anacrites received his head damage he was on to all this?'

'Yes.'

'I've been told it was Quinctius Quadratus who lost his nerve and arranged for Anacrites to be beaten up. Is there any possibility that Laeta himself really organised the thugs?'

Perella considered. 'He could be evil enough to do it – but apparently when he heard what had happened he went green with shock. He's a clerk,' she said cruelly. 'I expect he hates violence!'

'He did look flustered when he came to me about it.' 'Maybe it finally struck him that he was messing with something more dangerous than scrolls.'

'That hasn't made him back down from the general Plan,' I commented.

'No. You said it right, Falco. Everything depends on whether Vespasian has been told all this. Once he knows, he'll love it. We'll be stuck with it.'

'So what was Anacrites intending to do to thwart Laeta's scheme?'

'What I'm still doing,' she returned crisply. 'The spies' network will produce a report saying "Look! People were planning to force up olive oil prices; isn't it scandalous?"Then we show that we've stopped the plot. If enough people know, we force the Emperor to agree publicly that it was corrupt and undesirable. We get the praise for discovering the project, and for ending it. Laeta has to back offfrom the cartel, and from us.'

'For now!'

'Oh, he'll be back. Unless,' remarked Perella in a tone Laeta would not have cared for, 'somebody wipes him out first!'

I drew in a long breath then let it out again, whistling to myself.

I had no opinion on whether Anacrites or Laeta was best for running the intelligence service. I had always despised the whole business, and only took on missions when I needed the money, even then distrusting everyone involved. Taking sides was a fool's game. With my luck, whichever side I ended up on would be the wrong one. Better to extract myself now, then wait to see what developed. Watching the two official heavyweights slogging out their rivalry might even be amusing.

I was growing stiff, sitting on the ground. I stood up. The woman followed, gathering up her shawl then shaking it to dislodge twigs and leaves. I was once again struck by how short, stout and apparently unlikely as a spy she was. Still, she didn't look like a dancer, yet everyone who had seen her perform said she could do that.

'Perella, I'm glad we pooled our knowledge. We underlings have to work together!'

'So we do,' she agreed – with a pinch-lipped expression that told me how she distrusted me just as freely as I did her. 'And are you still working for Laeta, Falco?' 'Oh, I'm working for justice, truth and decency!' 'How noble. Do they pay well?'

'I'll stick with the network then!' We had walked to our animals. Perella flung the shawl across her horse's back then leaned on the saddle before leaping up. 'So who goes after Quadratus?'

I sighed deeply. 'I'd like to; I hate that young bastard – but Perella, Pm really stuck now. He's gone in entirely the wrong direction – back west towards Corduba. I've sent my girl to the east coast and I ought to go after her.'

She looked surprised. My tenacity must be more famous than I thought. 'You don't mean that, Falco!'

'I don't have much choice! I want to corner Quadratus, but I don't want to face Helena – let alone her enraged family – if I slip up and let anything happen to her. Her family are important. If I upset them, they could fmish me.'

'So what then, Falco? Aren't you the man to take a chance?'

Irritated, I picked at a tooth, pausing for anguished reflection. 'No, it's no good. I'm going to have to leave you to take the credit. Anacrites' group needs the kudos, and I just haven't the time to follow in the direction Quadratus has gone. I've found out what you need to know. You saw me at the silver mine? They told me at the supervisor's office that he had been there yesterday. He let them know he was going back to look at the mines near Hispalis.'

'And you can't do it?'

'Well, it's impossible for me. That's the wrong way. I'll have to give up on him. I've simply run out of time. My lady is about to pop a baby, and I promised to put her on a ship so she can get to a good Roman midwife. She's gone on ahead and I'm supposed to be following.'

Perella, who may even have seen Helena looking huge at the Camillus estate in Corduba while I was in Hispalis, snorted that I had better be sharp, then. I gave her the customary scowl of a man who was ruing his past indiscretions. Then I swung up on to my mule again. This time it was I who managed it gracefully, while Perella missed and had to scramble.

'Need a hand?'

'Get lost, Falco.'

So we parted in different directions, Perella going west. I meanwhile took the road to the east at a gentle pace, pretending I was headed for the Tarraconensis coast.

I was. But first, as I had always intended, I would be visiting the mines at Castulo.