White Murder (Marcus Corvinus Book 7), page 10
‘Dinner will be another hour, sir. We hadn’t expected you back quite so soon.’
‘That’s okay. No hurry.’ I stretched out on my usual couch and set the jug and cup down on the table. Perilla lay down opposite. We needed a touch of strategy here. I pointed to the little marble statue of an old woman and her dog that we’d picked up in Athens and that now stood on a plinth by the pool and said casually: ‘Hecale’s looking a bit dull, pal. You want to give her a rub?’
‘Yes, of course, sir.’ He pulled a cloth from his belt – Bathyllus always carries one, just in case he meets an unexpected smear – and started in on the dog’s back.
I gave it half a minute or so, then I said: ‘Hey, Bathyllus, you remember Flatworm Lentulus?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Jupiter! I’d heard more life in a funeral oration!
‘I bumped into him today in Market Square. We got talking about major-domos and I bet him a jug that you didn’t have any hobbies or interests.’ I noticed that Perilla had put her hand over her eyes and was moving her head slowly from side to side but I ignored her. ‘That right?’
The cloth paused. ‘Actually, sir, I play draughts. And I collect beetles.’
‘Uh...beetles?’
‘Yes, sir. I have eighty-three.’
‘That’s...uh...fascinating, litt – Bathyllus.’ I took a fortifying swig of Setinian. ‘Eighty-three beetles, eh? Quite a collection. What do you feed them on?
‘Oh, I don’t feed them, sir. They’re dead. I push pins through them and fix them onto sheets of papyrus. Or simply glue the smaller ones down. Then I label them.’
‘What the hell do you do that for?’
That got me a glare from Perilla. ‘According to Aristotle, Marcus,’ she said, ‘there are over a hundred varieties of beetle. I don’t believe they’ve ever been properly classified. Bathyllus, that is really interesting!’
‘I find it so, madam.’ He moistened the cloth with his tongue and moved on to the dog’s foreleg. ‘Of course, many are quite different in colour or size, but you would be amazed how often on closer inspection identical examples turn out to be no such thing. Naturally, it’s difficult to tell when they’re scuttling around, particularly the very small ones, but once they’re stuck down the individual characteristics positively leap out at you.’
‘Right. Right.’ I downed a gulp of wine. ‘Now about draughts –’
‘In fact, there have been occasions when I have myself thought that two specimens were completely identical, only to find on much closer inspection that they differed in one tiny particular. The respective lengths of the thorax and prothorax, perhaps, or the shape of the head.’
‘Bathyllus –’
‘The gem of my collection is an extremely large scarab beetle which was passed on to me by a friend who came across it on one of the Egyptian grain barges. The elytra and pronotum have a beautiful and very unusual golden sheen, while the mandibles are slightly less developed than one might expect on a scarab –’
‘Bathyllus!’
‘– although I haven’t really had much opportunity to compare many examples. Yes, sir?’
‘Uh...I think maybe that’s enough polishing for the present, sunshine. Hecale’s looking a lot brighter.’
‘Marcus!’
That was Perilla. I ignored her: head-of-household duty was one thing, but if the lady thought I was going to sit through an hour-long lecture on bugs she was whistling through her ear.
‘Ah. Yes.’ Bathyllus looked down at the cloth in his hand as if it had magically appeared. ‘Certainly, sir. I’ll...go and check on the progress of dinner.’
‘You do that, pal,’ I said.
He wandered out. There was a frigid silence. Finally, Perilla said: ‘Marcus Valerius Corvinus –!’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’ I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. ‘But if I’d let him rabbit on a minute longer my head would’ve dropped off. And given the slightest encouragement he’d’ve brought out all eighty-six of the fucking things and given us their life histories.’
‘Eighty-three. And don’t swear.’
‘Whatever.’
‘He was talking and you stopped him. Now that wasn’t very clever, was it?’
I took a defensive swig of wine. ‘Great. So we fix up a meeting with this Tyndaris and lover-boy out there whispers sweet nothings about beetles in her ear.’
‘I found what he was saying very interesting.’
‘Yeah, no doubt. But I’ll bet this Tyndaris doesn’t sleep with a copy of Aristotle’s Natural History under her pillow.’
‘That isn’t the point. Bathyllus has to be weaned into conversing, and getting him to talk about his interests is the first step. Marcus, we discussed this!’
‘Maybe so, but at the time I didn’t know the guy was a crypto bugs nut. Where beetles are concerned you’re on your own, lady. I’ll do my best in other ways.’
Perilla sighed. ‘All right, dear. Perhaps under the circumstances you should leave Bathyllus’s interests to me. But you will be careful with him? More careful than you usually are, anyway?’
‘Sure. No problem.’
‘Fine. I suppose that’s as much as we can reasonably expect.’ I had my mouth open to protest, but she went on: ‘So what happened this morning? Did you talk to the Greens faction master?’
I told her about the interview with Natalis and the follow-on with Felicula. ‘The Reds’ driver Laomedon is looking a prime suspect. Certainly he’s got the strongest motive, and characterwise he fits like a glove.’
‘You haven’t seen him yet, have you?’
‘No. I thought maybe I’d call round at the Reds’ stables tomorrow, talk to him and the faction boss Pudens. Also I’d like a word with the Whites’ second, Uranius. He’s an outside bet, sure, but I can’t afford to write anyone off this early.’
‘You think Pegasus was involved in something underhand?’
I freshened up my wine cup. ‘I’d give you good odds. When he was with the Greens, certainly, despite what Natalis said, maybe later, too, at least in embryo. If I can find this guy Sopilys we might be a bit further forward as to the what. It’s too late today, but I’ll send one of the lads out to Ostia first thing tomorrow morning, see if Agron can help.’
‘You don’t think perhaps Sopilys could be the killer himself?’
Yeah; I’d mulled that one over a couple of times. ‘He had a grudge, sure. But he’d already punched the guy’s lights out, so I’d guess he regarded the account as settled. Besides, Ostia’s a fair way off. He’d’ve had to come special.’
‘It depends on the strength of the grudge, surely. On what it involved.’
I nodded. ‘True. Like I say, I’m not ruling anyone out. We’re not at that stage yet.’
Bathyllus softshoed back in. I half expected the little guy to be carrying his bug collection, but he wasn’t. I breathed again.
‘A message from Meton, sir,’ he said. ‘He can advance dinner to ten minutes’ time, if that would suit you.’
Well, at least he was sounding on top of things now. That little baring of the soul seemed to have done some good, anyway. Maybe Perilla was right. I stood up. ‘Sure. We’ll come straight through.’
‘Very well, sir.’ He hesitated. ‘That scarab –’
But he wasn’t getting a second chance. No way. I was already past him and heading for the dining-room. Bodice-rippers are one thing, but entomology before dinner is the complete pits.
10.
Next morning after breakfast I gave Alexis instructions on how to find Agron and what I needed from him and sent him off to Ostia: Alexis, because as well as being smart, which Lysias isn’t, the kid can sit a horse without falling off, and that’s more than most of my lot can. I’d’ve preferred to send one of the littermen – these lardballs can always do with the exercise but a thirty-mile round trip on foot would’ve been pushing things and I wanted the message to arrive before next Winter Festival.
Meanwhile I set out myself for Mars Field and the stables; the Whites first, because they were nearest. I was lucky. Cement-Features was on the gate, and he recognised me. Not that that helped too much where the treatment was concerned; it just meant the suspicious look was more personal.
‘The boss is down at the racetrack,’ he said.
‘No problem, pal.’ I put on my best smile. ‘I was looking for Uranius. He around?’
‘Maybe.’
Jupiter! This coy secrecy could get on your nerves really quickly! ‘You care to come down on one side of the issue or the other, friend?’ I said. ‘Or should I just pant with the uncertainty of not knowing?’
That got me a long, measuring stare while Cement-Features chewed his lip. ‘You want to talk with Uranius, then I got to clear it with Hesper,’ he said at last.
‘Fine with me, sunshine. I’ll wait here, shall I?’
But I was talking to a closed and bolted gate. I kicked my heels for a good five minutes before it opened again and Hesper himself came out. He stood back to let me through.
‘How’s it going, Corvinus?’
‘Not bad.’
‘You talk to Sopilys yet?’
‘Uh-uh. Still trying to trace him. I found the Black Cat, though. Thanks for the lead.’
He grunted. ‘Sisyphus says you want to talk to Uranius.’
‘Who the hell’s Sisyphus?’
‘That’s me.’ Cement-Features was glowering away in the background. ‘You want to make something of it?’
‘Uh...no. Not at all. Good name, good name.’ I turned back to Hesper. ‘No big deal. It’s just for the sake of completeness. Is he around?’
‘Yeah. But he’s with the horses. I’m too busy just now to nursemaid you like the boss said but I’ll take you to the common-room and send him over, okay?’
‘Fair enough.’ Gods alive! You’d think I was just itching for a chance to poison the brutes’ feed. Or maybe Hesper thought I could put a hex on them just by being in the same stall.
‘Follow me, then.’
We went the same way as before, only this time not so far. He took me up the steps of one of the barrack blocks, opened a door and showed me in.
They certainly looked after their own in the factions. The common-room was just that: a big room with stools, tables and benches, even a bar counter at the far end, although there was no one behind it. Four or five guys were shooting dice at one of the tables. They gave me suspicious looks, but when they saw Hesper behind me they went back to their game.
‘Okay, Corvinus,’ Hesper said. ‘You’ll be fine here. I’ll send Uranius over and join you as soon as I’m free.’
‘Suits me, pal,’ I said. ‘Whatever you like.’
Hesper nodded to the dice school and went out.
I chose a table as far as I could from the dice players – they were ignoring me anyway – and sat down. It was a good ten minutes before the door opened again and a little guy like a monkey walked in.
‘Valerius Corvinus?’ he mumbled.
‘Yeah.’
‘Name’s Uranius. You wanted to talk to me.’ He sat down. Monkey was right; the guy was clean-shaven, but everywhere else was covered by black hair so thick you could’ve used him for a doormat. The other thing I noticed was that he had no presence at all, none. The dice players hadn’t even looked up.
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘About Pegasus.’
I caught a flicker in his eyes as he sat down facing me. Yeah, well; he’d have to be a real fool not to realise he figured somewhere in the line of suspects.
‘I didn’t kill him.’
‘I’m not saying you did.’ I was mild. ‘I just want to see the guy from your angle, that’s all.’
‘He was a bastard.’
Well, that was straight enough. I hadn’t expected him to come out quite so strong, mind. ‘No surprises there, friend. What kind of bastard, exactly?’
He put his hands together and bunched them. I’d been wrong about his having hair all over: there was a slave brand burned into his right forearm, and that the hair didn’t cover. ‘He treated me like dirt. You don’t do that to your second, specially when you’ve taken his place as lead. You’d’ve thought the team hadn’t had a first driver until he showed up. Ten years I’ve raced with the Whites, six as leader. Sure, I haven’t notched up many wins, but I know my business, I’m good at it and I’ve got a record of placings. Pegasus arrives and it’s six years out the window.’ The hands gripped each other hard. ‘All that’s fact. You could’ve got it from anyone, but I’m telling you myself up front. I’ve nothing to hide.’
‘Yeah. Right.’ I indicated the slave brand, delicately. ‘By the way, you...uh...’ I started again. ‘That still valid, or have you bought yourself out? If you don’t mind my asking?’
‘It’s valid.’ Uh-huh. Interesting. ‘I don’t blame Cammius, mind; he had to jump at the chance of Pegasus when he was offered, and the man was a first-rate driver. Better than me, I’ll admit it, better than anyone else on the sand just now. But he’d’ve wrecked the Whites from the inside, sooner or later. I saw it, Cario saw it, only Cammius wouldn’t listen.’
‘Cario?’
Silence. Finally he said: ‘The boss’s son. You haven’t met him?’
‘Uh-uh. I didn’t know he existed.’
‘He exists, all right. Have a word with Cario. He’ll tell you about Pegasus.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I might just do that.’ I hesitated. ‘Uh...don’t get me wrong, pal, but I assume you were here the afternoon Pegasus was killed? Just to clear things up, you understand?’
Another silence; a longer one, this time. Uranius had been talking normally, but now there was a definite shift in his eyes. ‘Yes. That’s right,’ he said.
I kept my face expressionless: if the guy was as bad a driver as he was a liar then come the new season the Whites really had problems. However, there was no point arguing. ‘Fine. And you wouldn’t know who he was planning to meet at the wineshop?’
The eyes widened, then flicked away from mine for an instant. ‘Was he planning to meet someone?’
‘Yeah. I think so.’
‘Then no. The answer’s no.’
The door opened and he turned towards it with obvious relief: Hesper, back on nursemaid patrol. I stood up.
‘It’s okay,’ Hesper said. ‘Take your time.’
‘Oh, I’d finished.’ I glanced at Uranius. ‘Unless you’ve anything else you’d like to tell me?’
The Whites’ new top driver shook his head. He was staring at his hands as if he thought maybe they might take an independent line from his brain, and above the sprouting black hairs the tips of his ears were pink. ‘No,’ he mumbled. ‘Nothing else.’
Hesper gave him a sharp glance. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you back to the gate, Corvinus.’
‘Thanks for your help, pal,’ I said to Uranius, but there was no answer. We left him sitting.
Hesper was frowning as we walked back. I kept the pace slow, because the guy obviously had something on his mind and was wondering whether to spill it. Finally he did.
‘You give Uranius a bad time back there?’ he said.
‘Not particularly.’
He grunted. ‘Looked like it to me.’ I said nothing. ‘Corvinus, I’ve known Uranius for years. He’s a strange guy, deeper than you’d think to look at him. He has his moods but he’s a fine driver. Not great, but competent. And he’s straight, straight as a rule. I just want to make sure you have that clear.’
We’d stopped. Over by the stables they were mucking out again. ‘He told me he was here the afternoon Pegasus was murdered,’ I said. ‘Was he?’
The frown deepened. Hesper opened his mouth to say something, then he changed his mind and laughed instead. ‘Hold on. That was three days ago, right?’
‘Right.’
‘No, he wasn’t here.’ Then, before I could speak: ‘He wasn’t killing Pegasus either, though. He was nowhere near Iugarius.’
‘Then why the hell should he lie about it?’
Hesper was grinning. ‘I told you. The guy’s deeper than he looks, and he gets embarrassed easy. Four times a month, races permitting, he sings with an amateur glee club down on the Aventine. We used to give him a lot of stick about it, but it’s important to him and the lads’ve accepted that. Admitting it to a stranger would be different.’
‘And three days ago would be one of the days?’
‘Right. When Pegasus was knifed Uranius was busy singing three-part harmony with his musical pals. So lay off him.’
I grinned. Jupiter! A singing driver! Well, I’d’ve lied about that myself. ‘You happen to know where this glee club hang out?’ I said. ‘Just for the record?’
‘Sure. They meet in a tenement flat next to the Temple of Queen Juno. Tenant’s name’s Marcus Silvius. He’s the baritone.’
I made a mental note. It would check out, sure it would: it was too screwy not to. ‘Fine. Thanks, Hesper.’
‘Don’t mention it. And don’t mention it to Uranius, either, if you talk to him again. If he knew I’d told you the poor guy wouldn’t know where to put his face.’
‘You’ve got it.’ We carried on walking. ‘One last thing. Uranius mentioned a guy called Cario.’
‘Right. The boss’s son.’
‘He wouldn’t be around at present, would he?’
‘No. But if you want to talk to him you’ll find him at the Circus. He and Cammius’ll be there all day, finalising arrangements for the Megalenses.’
We’d almost reached the gate. Cement-Features – I couldn’t think of him as Sisyphus – got up from his stool and stood glowering.
‘Thanks again, pal,’ I said to Hesper.
‘No problem.’
We shook and I set off up the road towards the Reds’ compound.
On the way I thought about Uranius.
He hadn’t struck me as the murdering type, sure. Still, like Hesper had said, there was more going on inside that monkey’s head of his than appeared on the surface, even allowing for the lie about being on site the afternoon Pegasus had been killed. He hadn’t liked that question about who the guy had been meeting, for a start: there’d been something screwy there, although I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, and if Uranius was as straight as the stables master claimed then there shouldn’t’ve been. I’d docketed that for future reference.
