Ode to a Banker

XXIV

A good picture of jealousies and quarrels was building. I always like a case with a crowd of seething suspects; I allowed myself to enjoy lunch.

When the conversation turned to family matters, Maia told me she had been to see Pa. Although she had investigated his situation at the warehouse, she had not come out and directly offered help. 'You tackle him. You and Helena know him better than I do. Anyway, it's you two who want me to do this…'

She was prevaricating. Helena and I took her back to the Saepta Julia straight after we had eaten.

We found my father frowning over a pile of what looked like bills. He was perfectly able to deal with his financial affairs; he was shrewd and snappily numerate. Once he had found a basket of odd pots and finials to keep Julia happy, I put it to him bluntly that he seemed to have lost the will to keep his daily records, and that he would be doing my sister a favour if he allowed her – and paid her – to become his secretary.

'There's nothing to it,' Pa avowed, trying to minimise the salary. 'It does not need keeping up every day -'

'I thought all business deals were supposed to be recorded in a daybook,' I said.

'That doesn't mean you have to write them up the same day they happen.' Pa looked at me as if I were simple. 'Do you write your expenses on a tablet the minute you pay out a witness bribe?'

'Of course. I am a methodical consultant.'

'Pigs' pizzle. Besides, son, just because I can, when challenged, produce a daybook looking all neat and innocent, doesn't mean it has to be correct.'

Maia shot him a look; that was about to change smartly around this office.

Despite this difference in ethics between them, we settled the matter easily. Like most arrangements that appear fraught with problems, once tackled, its difficulties evaporated. Straight away Maia began to explore and soon extracted a pile of accounting notes from under Pa's stool. I had seen how she kept her own household budget; I knew she would cope. She herself obviously felt nervous. While she sat down to get the hang of our father's systems, which he had devised especially to bamboozle others, Helena and I stayed to distract the suspicious proprietor from overseeing Maia so closely he would put her off.

'Who do you bank with, Pa?'

'Mind your own business!' he retorted instinctively.

'Typical!'

'Juno,' Helena muttered. 'Grow up, you two. Didius Favonius, your son has no designs on your moneychests. This is just an enquiry related to his work.'

Pa perked up, always eager to put his nose into anything technical of mine. 'What's that then?'

'A banker has been killed. Chrysippus. Ever come across his agent, Lucrio, at the Aurelian Bank?'

Pa nodded. 'I know a few people who use him.'

'Given the prices you extract at auction, I'm not surprised buyers have to get financial help.' Pa looked proud to be called an extortioner. 'I hear he specialises in loans.'

'This Aurelian outfit going down, then?' Pa demanded, ever anxious to be first with gossip.

'Not that I know.'

'I'll put the word around.'

'That's not what Marcus said,' Helena reproved him. Her senatorial background had taught her never to do or say anything that might excite a barrister. She was related to a few. It had not improved her view of the advice they gave. 'Don't slander the banker if there is nothing wrong!'

Pa wriggled and clammed up. He would be unable to resist pretending to his cronies that he knew something. That there was nothing to relate would not stop him bending ears with a sensational tale. Patter was his business; he would make it up without noticing his own invention.

I too should have kept quiet. Still, it was too late now. 'I suppose you've seen plenty of credit-brokers hanging around at auctions, ready to help out buyers with on-the-spot finance?'

'All the time. Sometimes we attract more money touts than interested purchasers to take them up. Persistent bastards too. But we don't see Lucrio.'

'No, I think the Aurelian Bank works more secretly.'

'Dodges?' asked Pa.

'No, just discreet.'

'Oh really!'

Even I smiled knowingly 'It's the Greek style, I'm told.'

'You do mean dodges then,' sneered Pa. He and Helena chuckled together.

I felt myself looking pompous. 'No need for xenophobia.'

'The Greeks invented xenophobia,' Helena reminded me.

'The Greeks are Romans now,' I claimed.

'Not,' sneered Pa, 'that you would claim it when face to face with a Greek.'

'Sensitivity to others. Why rub Attic noses in the rich dirt of Latium? Let them believe they are superior, if that's their religion. We Romans tolerate anyone – except, of course, the Parthians. And once we persuade them of the advantages of joining the Empire and having their long hair cut, we may even pretend to like the Parthians.'

'You are joking,' scoffed Pa.

I let a brief silence fall. Any moment now, somebody would mention the Carthaginians. Maia, whose husband had been executed for cursing Hannibal in his home region and then blaspheming the Punic gods, looked up from her work briefly as if she sensed what I was thinking.

'So which company do you bank with?' Helena asked my father, with rather wicked insistence.

He indulged her, though not much. 'This and that. Depends.'

'On what?'

'What I want.'

'Pa never keeps much on deposit,' I told her. 'He prefers to have his capital in saleable goods – artworks and fine furniture.'

'Why pay somebody to keep my currency secure?' Pa explained. 'Or allow a halfwit who couldn't spot a good investment in a goldmine to gamble with my cash? When I want a loan to make a big unplanned purchase, I can get it. My credit's good.'

'That proves how stupid bankers are!' I joked.

'How do they know they can trust you, Geminus?' Helena asked, more reasonably.

Pa told her about the Columnia Maena, where credit merchants posted up details of clients who were looking for loans. It was the same story Nothokleptes had given me. 'Apart from that, it's all word of mouth. They consult one another; it's a big family party. Once you acquire a good reputation, you are in.'

Helena Justina turned to me. 'You could do that kind of work, Marcus – checking that people are solvent.'

'I have done, on occasion.'

'Then you ought to advertise it as a regular service. You could even specialise.'

'Make a change from being hired by the vigiles to solve cases they cannot be bothered to investigate.'

I knew why Helena was interested. I was supposed to be going into partnership with one of her brothers – Justinus, if he ever deigned to come home from Spain. Both brothers, if we could build up a large enough client base. Regular customers, such as bankers checking whether clients were creditworthy, could be useful to our agency. I pretended to be dismissive – but then winked to let her know I had heard the suggestion.

'Looking into the backgrounds of people who have not actually bludgeoned their relatives would be less dangerous too,' said Helena. I did not share her view of the business world.

'I could start with my own father's background, I suppose.'

'Get stuffed,' said Pa predictably.

This time we all laughed together.

The conversation reminded me about discovering who had poked Chrysippus with the scroll rod. I said I was going back to his house; Helena decided that first, while we were over at the Saepta Julia, it made sense to hire a litter, cross the Tiber, and visit our own new house on the Janiculan. She would come there with me. She could shout at Gloccus and Cotta, the bathhouse contractors.

By reminding him about his terrible recommendation of these two home-destruction specialists, Helena persuaded Pa to look after Julia. Maia offered to bring the baby home for us at least as far as her house. We then were able to stroll out into Rome like lovers in the midafternoon.

We spent a long time trying to advance things at the new house. Gloccus and Cotta packed up, rather than hear any more of our complaints. At least this time they had a good reason for leaving early. Usually it was because they could not work out how to rectify whatever had gone wrong with that morning's labour.

Even after they vanished, we did not go straight back across to the Clivus Publicius. I'm not stupid. It was far too hot to flog all the way back to the city, and during the siesta there was no hope of finding any witnesses. Besides, this was a rare chance of solitude with my girl.