Finished Business

SIX

‘Well, at least we don’t have to worry about chasing alibis,’ I said to Perilla at dinner as Bathyllus served the dessert. ‘The big question is, who was the guy working for? And if he’s a freedman, is he a home-grown one or was he specially hired for the job?’

‘Of course, he might also have done it as a favour. For a friend,’ Perilla said.

‘How do you mean, lady?’ I picked up my spoon and looked down at the bowl Bathyllus had put in front of me. In it was a sort of yellowish-grey paste mixed with what looked like thick flower petals. ‘Gods, Bathyllus, what the hell’s this?’

‘Rose hip and calf’s brain custard, sir. With a sprinkling of cinnamon.’

‘For dessert?’

‘It would seem so, yes. A new recipe Meton is trying out.’

‘Hmm.’ I tasted it. Not bad. Not bad at all. Slightly nutty, with a perfumed aftertaste. I could’ve done without the cinnamon, though. ‘How do you mean?’ I asked Perilla again.

‘I was thinking of his mistress. Tarquinia?’

‘Tarquitia.’

‘A freedman friend would fit with her social background. And as far as motive goes, she’s the only obvious suspect at present.’

‘Come on, Perilla!’ I spooned up a bit more of the custard. Yeah, definitely one of Meton’s winners. ‘Tarquitia’s no murderess.’

‘She now owns what is essentially a substantial part of the Naevius villa, which she can either sell for a large sum to a third party or, far more likely, given the circumstances and the awkwardness that would cause him, do a deal with Surdinus Junior for a similar or probably even larger amount. And on top of that there’s the fifty thousand sesterces legacy. Not bad going, in her position, for what was in effect a year’s work. I’d say that was an excellent motive.’

‘Perilla, she already owned the property when Surdinus died. Plus, she didn’t know she was a beneficiary in the will.’

‘So she told you. And as far as the Old Villa is concerned, Surdinus’s death simplifies things enormously. She’s free now to turn it into ready cash, which she couldn’t creditably have done while he was alive, and furthermore — again given the circumstances — it would be the natural thing to do. Obviously, she can’t live there herself, can she?’ She poked at her own plate of custard with her spoon, pushed it aside and reached for an apple. Not a calf’s brains person, Perilla.

‘You didn’t meet her,’ I said. ‘She was genuinely fond of him, and genuinely upset. And in any case, she was sitting pretty. You don’t kill the golden goose.’

‘That’s the goose that lays the golden eggs, dear.’ She began peeling the apple with her knife. ‘And we don’t know that the eggs were currently all that golden. We only have Tarquitia’s word that the relationship was all sweetness and light. What if Surdinus were getting tired of her? The property sale, yes, that was over and done with, although again we don’t know for certain that the idea originated with him. However, the will’s another matter. If Surdinus changed his will once, he could do so again, for any reason or none, but with him dead she could be absolutely sure of being set up for life.’

‘If she knew of the existing terms. I don’t think she did. And what about the business with the horoscope? That was weird, if you like.’

‘Again, she could have made the whole thing up. We don’t know.’

‘It fits with the date of the letter to you, whatever the hell that was about. From the looks of things, leaving all the whys and wherefores aside, Surdinus knew or at least thought he was booked for an urn shortly and was setting his affairs in order before he went.’

Perilla sighed and put the knife down. ‘Even if that part of it was genuine, it isn’t relevant. In fact, it could have put the idea of murder into Tarquitia’s head in the first place. Marcus, you’re not being reasonable about this. Just because you’re smitten with the girl-’

‘Come on, lady!’

‘That doesn’t mean you can throw common sense out the window. For the present, she’s the obvious candidate. Admit it.’

I grinned. ‘OK. Fair enough. Admitted. Even so, it’s early days yet.’

‘Certainly it is.’ Perilla picked up the knife and the apple again. ‘No argument. But what do you actually know about her and her relationship with Surdinus? Apart from what she told you?’

‘Not a lot. Before she took up with him she worked at a club called the Five Poppies, near the vegetable market. Or at least so she said, and there was no reason for her to lie because she volunteered the information herself. I was thinking of going over there tomorrow, having a talk with the owner. See if he or she can fill in a bit of the lady’s background. Then there’s Surdinus’s ex, Cornelia Sullana. I got an address for her out of Junior when I gave him the news that his father’s death was no accident. Pretty smartly, too, with no griping.’ I took another spoonful of the custard. ‘In fact, I’d say he was more pleased than not that I might be sniffing around in that direction, just like he was over the significance of Tarquitia being mentioned in the will. Not much love lost there either, I’d imagine, which is interesting.’

‘I wouldn’t say that Sullana seemed a very likely possibility, dear. I mean, what possible reason would she have for wanting her ex-husband dead? Not a desire for revenge because he’d divorced her and taken a mistress, surely. From what you told me, they’d been virtually estranged for years, and she knew all about Tarquitia long before the divorce happened.’

I shrugged. ‘She’d no reason that I know of. But then nobody does have one, not an obvious one, as far as I can see — barring your front-runner, Tarquitia. I’ll just have to dig around, see what comes up. There’s the other son, too. Marcus. Hellenus, whatever. That’s another possible angle. Oh, sure, Postuma said he hadn’t had any contact with his father for years, but if he wasn’t formally disinherited he’ll have a share of the estate. We don’t know his circumstances, and maybe he suddenly needed a large amount of cash urgently enough to tempt him to cut corners.’

‘That is pure speculation, dear.’

‘Sure it is, no arguments. But I have to start somewhere.’

‘What about the actual killer? The freedman?’

‘Lady, Rome is full of freedmen, and whoever used the guy as the perp isn’t exactly going to advertise their relationship, particularly if he owes his cap to them, which would point the finger pretty effectively. Me, if he was one of my dependants and the fact meant I could be traced through him, I’d make damn sure he got himself well and truly lost for the duration. Get him out of the city altogether, for preference, certainly put the bugger in strict quarantine. Oh, I’ll ask around for a shortish forty-plus-year-old freedman with a mark on his cheek, sure, but I don’t think I’ll get any joy.’ Sad but true: most of the time, unless of course they come specifically to his attention for some reason, to your average middle- or upper-class Roman another man’s (or woman’s) freedmen dependants, like their slaves, are non-people, featureless nonentities. They just don’t get noticed, because they’re of no importance. Ask any three-namer to describe his next-door neighbour’s major-domo to you and the chances are you’ll just get a blank look. Ask some of the more pukkah-sahib types to describe their own and four times out of five you’ll get the same.

‘You might be lucky,’ Perilla said.

‘Yeah, well, just don’t hold your breath, that’s all.’ I finished off the custard. ‘You don’t want yours?’

She shuddered. ‘No. Definitely not.’

I reached over and swapped the plates. Not wholly greed: Meton can take it really personally if the empties tray comes back with an untouched dish on it, and risking Meton’s displeasure is not something you do lightly.

‘What about Surdinus’s relationships outwith the family?’ Perilla said. ‘I mean, in terms of enemies?’

I shrugged again. ‘From the looks of things, there isn’t much mileage there. Not if you believe Tarquitia, and if she were the guilty party, the chances are she’d be only too glad to bring out the dirty linen. He wasn’t involved with politics, which is the main area for a guy of his class where making enemies is concerned.’

‘Business relationships?’

‘Possibly. That’s one side of things I’ll have to check with his ex-wife. But the impression I got was that his mind didn’t run that way. He was a stay-at-home, for a start, and an interest in philosophy and astrology doesn’t chime too well with hard-headed business sense.’

‘You said he was a Stoic, dear. Stoics aren’t ivory-tower philosophers by any means, and they’re positively expected to involve themselves in business and politics. So if Surdinus kept clear of these areas he’s an anomaly rather than otherwise. And personally I think for a businessman a certain facility in making predictions about the future might prove a very useful skill.’

I laughed and ducked my head. ‘Yeah. Yeah, fair enough. So when push came to shove, maybe he wasn’t a proper card-carrying Stoic after all. But I’m only repeating what I was told by his estate manager and his mistress: he didn’t go out much from choice, and he seems to have picked his friends and acquaintances for their ability to talk philosophy rather than business or politics. And they were exclusively that — friends. There were no enemies that anyone’s mentioned, either Manager Leonidas or Tarquitia. Oh, sure, again it’s something to check — I’ve got a few names for his regular dinner guests, so talking to them may open up an angle or two — but I’m not too hopeful on that side of things.’

‘So where are you hopeful?’

‘The gods know, lady. Nowhere, at present. Tarquitia … well, I take your point, all of your points, but I can’t really believe in Tarquitia being behind the murder. Like I said, all I can do is dig around and see what comes up, see what feels promising.’

‘Starting tomorrow?’

‘As ever.’