Ovid

36

I was getting ready for bed when Bathyllus shoved his head round the door to tell me Agron was outside and wanted to talk to me privately.

Privately. Yeah. Sure. I could quote him now. We've got your girlfriend, pal. Stop screwing around or you can kiss her goodbye. It looked as if old Quinctilia had been spinning me a line after all. Shit, I'd believed in her and that fat-faced nephew of hers, and I didn't think my judgement could be that much out. Sure, Asprenas I could understand: Fat Face had struck me as the sort of guy who wouldn't balk at kidnapping if he decided it was the only way to shut me up. But not Quinctilia. I'd've thought the old girl would've had more pride.

I got my sword out and told Bathyllus to wheel the big guy in and make sure the Sunshine Boys made themselves conspicuous in the lobby. The Illyrian walked past them as if they were part of the furniture. If he'd been wearing a hat I swear he'd've used one of them to hang it on.

'Sorry to hear about your girlfriend,' he said.

I set the point of the sword against his chest.

'Oka,’ I said. ‘Where is she? You've got three seconds.'

Although I must've looked pretty mean Agron didn't bat an eyelid. He brushed the sword aside, drew up a chair and sat down.

'Put that pig-sticker away, boy, you look ridiculous. If you can't look after your women it's no concern of mine.'

Slowly, I sheathed the sword and sat down facing him. The guy had more guts than I had, I'll say that for him; but I wasn't going to leave things there.

'If she's come to any harm,' I said carefully, 'you're dead meat, understand? You and Chubby-Chops Asprenas both. I'm telling you that now.'

He laughed. 'Think you can do any better than last time? And what's Asprenas got to do with it?'

I made a sign to the Sunshine Boys who were hovering in the open doorway. They trooped inside grinning and nudging each other, cracking knuckles and flexing biceps. As a performance it was subtle as a Suburan mugging, but that suited me. This was one message I wanted spelt out in capitals.

Agron didn't even look round. 'Look, Corvinus. We may not particularly like each other but I don't need the hassle and I don't want to bait you, okay? I'm telling you now that I've no more idea where the girl is or who took her than you do. Nor has Asprenas and nor has the mistress. So call off your performing monkeys back there before you make yourself out to be a bigger fool than you are already.'

He could've been lying, but somehow I didn't think so. In any case like I said I admired his nerve.

'Okay boys.' I held up my hand. 'Change of plan. Scram. Go play with your toys next door.' The knuckle-cracking and biceps-flexing trailed off and the grins disappeared. I've seen kids look like that when someone stops them torturing the cat. 'And tell Bathyllus to bring us a jug of wine.'

'That's better.' Agron folded his arms and watched me as the last of the Gauls trooped out again and banged the door behind him. 'Now tell me what happened.'

'Hold on. First you tell me how you knew the lady was missing.'

'Not me. The mistress. And before you go jumping to any more half-baked conclusions, most of Rome knows. You can thank Daddy for that.'

Yeah. That made sense. My father wouldn't've had any reason to keep the news quiet, quite the reverse. I'd asked for his help and the first thing any self-respecting purple-striper would do under the circumstances was put the call out on the grapevine. The old patron-client relationship might be shakier now than it had been in the past but when it came to getting results it still left official channels nowhere. I was surprised that he'd gone to so much trouble. Grateful, too.

'Okay,' I said. 'For what it's worth, she went out visiting a couple of nights ago and didn't come home. The day we had our little chat about Varus.'

If he noticed the tone of the last sentence he didn't show it.

'Kidnapped?'

'It looks that way.'

'You had any ransom demands?'

'Not yet. But I doubt if whoever took her is interested in money.'

'What, then?'

'What do you think? They want me to stop asking questions, same as you do.'

'We didn't go beyond a pretty please, Corvinus. You think it's that important?'

'Yeah,' I said. 'I'd say it was important. Or wouldn't you agree?'

There was a knock on the door and Bathyllus came in with the tray. He gave the big guy his best disapproving stare, poured, and left.

'So what brings you here?' I sipped at the wine. 'Apart from curiosity.'

'Screw the curiosity. I told you, if you can't keep your women it's none of my business. The mistress sent me to ask if there's anything she can do.'

'I can manage. Thank her anyway.'

Agron frowned and set his cup down on the floor untasted. 'Look,’ he said. ‘This isn't my idea. Quinctilia feels responsible. She wants to help, right? Asprenas, too. Sure, they tried to shut you up, but they made a mistake. And don't blame the mistress for what happened that day in the Subura. That wasn't part of the orders.'

'Using your personal initiative?'

'Yeah, if you like. I was told to follow you, keep an eye on you, maybe scare you a little. But no violence. And I saved your life, remember.'

The guy had a point. And what he was saying came as close to an apology as I could see him ever making.

'Okay,' I said. 'So let's call it quits, then. For the moment.'

'You still think the general was your fourth man?' The question came straight out of the blue, without any signalling; but then that seemed to be the way Agron operated.

I hesitated. Just because the big guy had stopped threatening to belt the hell out of me didn't mean I had to confide in him. And if he was working for the opposition it'd be a real mistake.

'Come on, Corvinus! This is important.'

Sure it was. 'Who to?'

'To me.'

I nursed my wine while he waited in patient silence. If Asprenas was mixed up in this somehow then he could've sent his tame gorilla round to sound me out, maybe drop a few hints on how he wanted me to play things. All the same it didn't feel right. Agron might be a bastard, but I was willing to bet that he was an honest bastard.

'Okay,' I said finally. 'I don't know. I honestly don't know. Sure, Varus was involved. He must've been, the letter proves that. But there's a good chance that he was set up. Or at least used.'

He relaxed. 'That's what I hoped you'd say. Who by?'

'If I knew that I'd know the whole thing. What's it to you, anyway?'

'You know what I think of the general, Corvinus. He may've been greedy, he may've been taking bribes from the Germans, but like I told you when the time came he paid and paid hard. That bit of it's over. If Varus is your traitor I don't want to know about it and I sure as hell won't help you prove it. You get me?'

I thought I could see what he was driving at. 'I get you. So let's have the but.'

He nodded. 'Right. If it wasn't the general, if Varus was set up somehow, then I want the bastard who did it. I want him just as much as you do, maybe more. Not just for Varus but for fifteen thousand other poor sods and three golden eagles. So if that's the direction you're headed in then maybe — just maybe — we're on the same side after all.'

As a peace offer I'd heard better, but it had a genuine feel to it. An honest bastard, right enough.

'Everything so far points to Varus being guilty,' I said. 'You know that, don't you?'

He nodded. 'Yeah. But I'm like the mistress. I can't believe the general was that kind of traitor, and I'm gambling that I'm right.'

'And if you aren't?'

'I don't make wild bets, Corvinus. Varus was set up. I know he was.'

Maybe I was making one of the worst mistakes of my life, but my gut feeling told me the guy was on the level. I raised my winecup.

'Fair enough. Truce?'

Slowly he reached for his own cup. Then, his eyes on mine, he took the barest sip and put the cup back down.

'Truce.'

'Okay,' I said. 'So start helping. If Varus wasn't our man what about the other possibilities?'

'Such as?'

'Let's start with Numonius Vela.'

His brow furrowed. 'You got reasons for that, or are you just dropping names?'

'Reasons. If our traitor wasn't Varus he must've worked pretty closely with him and been pretty high in the hierarchy. Vela was the general's deputy, and you don't get better placed than a deputy to frame a boss.' I sipped my wine. 'So tell me about Vela. What sort of guy was he?'

'Not the conspiring type.'

Shit. That came out flat. Too flat. 'You sure?'

'Not unless he was a good actor. Vela was straight as a die but he'd no spunk and no imagination. A brainless nobody who turned out a coward in the bargain. Count him out, Corvinus. You won't see me shed any tears for Vela, but he isn't the man you want.'

'Hold on. You don't ditch the guy that easy. Vela was the one told Quinctilia her brother was a traitor. He gave her the letter that proved it. If Varus was set up I'd say that made his second a pretty strong candidate.'

Agron's brows came down. 'Sure he gave the mistress the letter. That's the point. If he'd been the one who framed the general he would've hung onto it, but he didn't. He sent it straight to Asprenas by special courier.'

Something cold touched the back of my neck.

'Run that past me again, will you? Slowly this time.'

He stared at me. 'What the hell's got into you, boy? You okay?'

'You say Vela sent the letter to Asprenas?'

'Yeah. To Mainz, where he was stationed.' Agron looked blank. 'What's this about?'

'Asprenas was in Germany?'

'Sure he was in Germany. I thought you knew that.'

'No,' I said slowly. 'I didn't know that.' Gods! If Asprenas was in Germany then…

'He had a couple of Eagles. Not ones involved in the massacre, further up the Rhine. If it hadn't been for Asprenas the whole frontier would've collapsed.'

‘Yeah?' Jupiter! 'Tell me.'

He was still staring at me, which was pretty understandable. I must've looked as if I'd just seen the ghost of old Julius march in and do a slow strip on the table.

'Asprenas was one of the general's staff,' he said. 'He was upriver on garrison duty at Mainz. When he got the news of the massacre he force-marched his two Eagles back to protect the south bank of the Rhine. Like I said, if it hadn't been for him the Germans would've crossed over and chased us all the way to Gaul.' He paused, then said deliberately: 'Nonius Asprenas was the only hero we had in the whole fucking mess, Corvinus. So if you've got him in mind for your traitor you can stick it.'

I sat back and tried to stay calm. I could see what the guy meant, but he'd got it wrong. Sure, if his job had been to wreck the Rhine frontier totally Asprenas would only have had to put off his march for a day or so and watch the whole thing fall apart. Safe, no risks, and completely effective. Only that wasn't the idea, not at all. Not even Livia would go that far. She'd only wanted to disgrace Augustus. If I was right, and the massacre had been a doublecross on Arminius's part, then her agent wouldn't have expected it any more than Varus had. Fat Face's prompt action was an argument for guilt just as much as for innocence

Then I had another thought; and it wasn't a pleasant one. If Asprenas was the traitor then it explained why Perilla had been snatched so fast. I'd given the bastard his reasons myself. I'd shown him just how close to the truth I was. And how important it was to stop me before I made the final connections…

Fool!

Agron was still staring. The big guy didn't know, I was sure of that, unless he was the best actor I'd ever come across; nor did Quinctilia. And I couldn't tell them, because I didn't know which way they'd jump if they knew. Certainly not yet, not until I had proof…

The door opened. Bathyllus came in holding a scrap of paper.

'I'm sorry to disturb you, sir,' he said, 'but I feel you should see this.'

Domestic hassles I could do without at the moment. 'Bathyllus, look, we're busy, right? Tell me tomorrow.'

Then I saw the expression on the little guy's face, and I knew it was serious.

'From the kidnappers?'

He nodded. 'One of the slaves found it in the garden, sir.'

I grabbed the paper and spread it out on the desk. I'd never actually seen Perilla's handwriting, but there wasn't any reason why this shouldn't be genuine. I felt, suddenly, very cold.

'It was wrapped round a stone,' Bathyllus was saying. 'Someone must have thrown it over the wall.'

'When?'

'I don't know. It was lying beneath one of the rose bushes.'

The message was short and to the point:

Marcus: They say that if you haven't left Rome by the day after tomorrow they'll kill me.

There was no signature. Just that.

I'd seen the gardener weeding the rose garden myself, three days ago. Since then there'd been no reason for any of the slaves to have been outside, barring chance. This could've come at any time since Perilla had gone missing. And if it had been delivered before Scylax could set up his stake-out, then maybe I was too late already. Maybe Perilla was already dead…

My hand clenched, crushing the paper into a tight ball.

Fool!