Finished Business (21 page)

‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. Why on earth should I?’

I shrugged. ‘No reason. I’ve just got into the habit of asking people, that’s all.’ Interesting; very interesting. I’d been watching closely, and his eyelids had definitely flickered. The bastard was lying.

‘I had a freedman once,’ Messalina said, reaching for an olive. ‘Or rather Daddy did. He’d always been a bit strange as a slave. Talked to himself, you know? Muttered. Anyway, when he freed him Daddy set him up in a hardware shop. One day for no reason at all he picked up a vine-pruner’s knife from the bench and killed a customer with it. Slit his throat from ear to ear. The man had only come in for a set of door hinges.’ She smiled. ‘You can’t trust the poor dears – slaves and freedmen, I mean. They’re quite unreliable. Something to do with the breeding, I expect. Oh, lovely, we’ve got these little cheese and fig things again.’

‘I had a curious slave myself, actually.’ Vinicianus took a stuffed vine leaf from the dish next to him, put it on his plate and dissected it with his knife, frowning as he inspected the contents. ‘Curious in both senses of the word. The man was always poking, couldn’t leave anything alone. We had a stork’s nest on the roof one year, and he decided he’d go up and have a look at the eggs. Only he stepped on a loose tile, lost his balance, fell off the roof and broke his neck.’

He raised his eyes and looked straight at me.

Messalina laughed. ‘That’s
exactly
what I mean,’ she said. ‘Sometimes they are
so
silly, and then they’re their own worst enemies. Don’t you agree, Corvinus?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I do.’ I reached for the pickled cheese balls.

No doubt about it. I’d been warned.

There was a movement to my left, behind Messalina. I looked over. A Praetorian tribune in dress uniform, helmet under his arm, was approaching Gaius’s table. He stopped and saluted.

‘Oh, hell,’ Vinicianus muttered.

I glanced back at him. ‘What’s going on?’ I said. ‘Trouble?’

‘No. Nothing like that. Just the evening watchword.’

‘Watchword?’

His face was set. ‘For the palace guard. It changes every night, and the emperor gives it. Nothing to do with us. Eat your dinner, Corvinus.’

And he turned back to his plate. I’d noticed, though, that a lot of the other guests seemed to be taking a great interest in what was happening. There were a few suppressed giggles.

Gaius was in deep conversation with the man next to him; a pantomime artist, by the look of him, with hair frizzed out in golden spangles. The Praetorian didn’t move. He stood at the salute, ramrod straight, waiting: not a young guy like Sextus Papinius or his brother Lucius had been, but a balding veteran, fifty if he was a day.

Finally, Gaius looked up.

‘Ah, Chaerea, it’s you,’ he said. ‘You’ll be wanting tonight’s word, will you?’

‘Yes, Caesar.’ Although the words were barked out in strict military fashion, the voice didn’t match; it was high, almost feminine in pitch.

‘Right. Right. Let’s see now.’ Gaius frowned. ‘What was it yesterday? Not a single word; a phrase. On the tip of my tongue. Come on, man! Remind me!’

There was a perceptible pause. Then the tribune said stiffly: ‘“Give us a hug”, Caesar.’

The spangly haired guy next to Gaius choked on his wine and had to have his back pounded. All of the people occupying the nearby couches had been watching what was going on, and most of them, men and women, were laughing openly now, as if it were part of the evening’s entertainment. Which, in a way, I supposed it was. Certainly Gaius was showing all the signs of playing to the gallery here, and his sycophantic dinner pals were obviously eager to show their appreciation.

‘Tribune, now
really
!’ he said.
‘
Not
in front of all these people, please! Control yourself!’ The man still didn’t move, or answer; his arm was still up at the salute. Finally, Gaius tutted, rose from his couch and pulled the arm down. ‘Chaerea, darling, you are absolutely no fun whatsoever!’ he snapped. ‘Do you know that, you bum-face?’ He waited, but there was no answer. ‘All right, have it your own way. You’ll like this. The watchword for tonight is “Chubby-chops”. Oh, and you have to do this as well.’ He leaned forwards and planted a smacker of a kiss on each cheek. The room – at least the part of it where people were close enough to see – erupted. ‘Now bugger off, sunshine, I’m busy.’

The tribune saluted smartly, turned and marched off. I had a good view of the man’s face as he left, and it radiated pure frustrated hatred.

Gods!

I turned back to Vinicianus, who had been arranging a selection of nibbles on his plate with deliberate care. ‘That happen every night?’ I said.

‘So I believe. With that particular tribune, at least.’ His voice and face were expressionless. ‘Caesar does like his little joke.’

‘Who was the tribune?’

‘A Cassius Chaerea.’

‘
Cassius
Chaerea?’

That got me a slow look. ‘That’s what I said, yes.’

‘He any relation to Cassius Longinus? The Asian governor?’

‘Not that I know of. A distant cousin, perhaps, but nothing direct.’

‘He is a bit of a bum-face, isn’t he?’ Messalina giggled, and looked up from her own selection of starters. ‘And that voice! I’m not surprised the emperor makes fun of him.’

Vinicianus ignored her. ‘He was wounded in the groin, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘While he was serving with Germanicus on his Rhine campaign.’ Shit. Veteran was right. And Germanicus … just mention his name to any soldier any time in the twenty-odd years since the overrated bastard’s death – Praetorian or legionary, officer or grunt, it didn’t matter who – and he’d go all dewy-eyed; having served on the Rhine with Germanicus was equivalent to deputizing for Ganymede in bringing Jupiter his morning cup of nectar. Military street-cred just didn’t get any higher.

No wonder being given a watchword like ‘Chubby-chops’ had had the guy spitting nails. And if the emperor’s treatment of Cassius Chaerea was at all typical, then the chances of a strong Praetorian involvement in a possible assassination plot had just taken a substantial hike.

The ‘Cassius’ was interesting, too, right?

‘Marcus, petal! You came! How delightful!’

Hell; I looked over my shoulder. Gaius was standing behind the couch, although ‘standing’ was a bit of an exaggeration: the emperor was pissed as a newt and swaying. Handling it well, on the whole, though, apart from the goggle-eyed stare and the slight slur.

‘Ah … yeah. Yes, Caesar,’ I said.

‘And lying beside the most beautiful woman in the room, too. My Caesonia excepted, of course. How on earth did you manage to wangle that, you crafty bugger?’ He reached down and patted Messalina’s bottom. She smiled up at him and arched her back like a cat. ‘Look at her! Couldn’t you just eat her up, the little minx? Wasted on a poor old stick like Claudius. Isn’t she, Uncle?’

Claudius was already holding his cup up for more wine to the slave behind him; he obviously liked his booze, too. He turned back round.

‘Hmm? Oh. Yes. Yes, if you s-say so, C-Caesar,’ he said equably.

‘I do s-say so. I kn-know so, and I s-speak from experience.’ Gaius ran the back of his index finger slowly up Messalina’s spine and tweaked the stray lock of hair at the nape of her neck. ‘Don’t I, darling? You’re a lucky sod, Claudius, you randy old bugger. Far luckier than you deserve.’

‘Th-thank you, Caesar. I’m e-extremely aware of that.’

Gaius gave the bottom another pat and smiled. ‘Oh, I
am
glad,’ he said. ‘I would just
hate
for talent like this to go unappreciated. And she does have the most
marvellous
tits. Well, boys and girls, enjoy. Livilla, try not to eat too much, my dear, or the next time you go sea-bathing at Baiae you may find yourself harpooned.’

He lurched back to his own table.

‘Yes, well,’ Vinicius said after a long pause. ‘There you are, then.’

He reached for the bowl of pickled radishes.

We settled down to eat.

It was a good four hours later that we finally climbed into the litter, thoroughly bloated and gently pickled. At least, I was, although as far as food’s concerned Perilla can shift it when she likes.

‘Urp.’

‘Yes, well, dear,’ she said icily as the litter louts took the unaccustomed strain, ‘you’ve only yourself to blame. Three helpings of flamingo was just a tad excessive, wouldn’t you say?’

‘That wasn’t the flamingo, that was the radishes. You can tell.’

‘Marcus, please!’

I grinned and settled back against the cushions. Actually, our evening out hadn’t been all that bad in the end, if you made allowances for the earlier part. The food had been pretty good, well up to Meton’s standard, which is saying something. And a generous supply of imperial Caecuban makes up for a hell of a lot of shortcomings elsewhere.

‘Your pal Tiberius Claudius was a bit of a revelation,’ I said.

‘Really? How so?’

‘I reckon I’ve misjudged him. You’re right, he is smart.’

‘I kept telling you that, but you wouldn’t listen.’

‘No, not just book-smart. That’s nothing. He’s a survivor, like Asiaticus.’ I frowned; hadn’t Lentulus said that Asiaticus was a Claudian client and a personal friend of Claudius himself? ‘You saw how he reacted, or didn’t react, rather, when Gaius was feeling up Messalina? And six gets you ten it hadn’t stopped there. He’s had her, when and how serious the affair was I don’t know, but that’s practically a cert.’

‘Obviously he has. She’s very beautiful, completely unprincipled, and she’s been one of his intimate circle for years, long before Claudius came on the scene. It’d be surprising if he hadn’t.’

I shifted on the cushions. ‘Yeah, but that’s not all,’ I said. ‘I was watching what’s-his-name, Chaerea’s face when he marched out. The guy was fit to be tied. No one could’ve missed that; Gaius certainly couldn’t. Which of course is why the sick bastard does it. Needles people, winds them up, knowing that they can’t do a thing about it.’

‘Marcus, it’s late and I’m tired. Will you either shut up or get to the point, please?’

‘The point is that Claudius wasn’t like that. You saw for yourself. He shrugged the whole thing off. He didn’t even look or sound interested, from start to finish.’

‘Maybe he wasn’t. Livilla has affairs, Vinicius knows that. Like the one with that greasy smarmer Seneca. He ignores them for the puerile nonsense they are, and quite rightly so. The marriage was one of convenience; it isn’t as if they have any liking for each other, let alone affection, so why should he bother?’

‘Maybe because Vinicius is a survivor too. He’s certainly survived.’

Perilla stifled a yawn. ‘Marcus …’

‘Yeah, OK, lady. But all I’m saying is that unless Claudius genuinely doesn’t have any feelings for his wife, not even at the basic sexual level, then he’s a bloody good actor, and it’s probably what’s keeping him alive. And Gaius swallowed it whole. That’s his weakness, not taking people he despises seriously. He’s doing it with Claudius, he’s done and is probably still doing it with Valerius Asiaticus, and he is sure as hell doing it with Chaerea. That’s playing with fire, especially with everything else that’s going on. Me, I reckon that if the egotistical bastard isn’t very careful it’ll kill him.’

She was quiet for a long time. I wondered if she’d dozed off, but when we happened to pass a door with a lit torch outside it and I looked at her, her eyes were open and she was watching me closely.

‘So what can you do?’ she said softly.

I shrugged. ‘Not a lot. Just what I’ve been doing all along, really. Dig, see what comes up. Rattle a few cages, see if anything jumps. And hope to hell that somewhere along the line before the stupid bugger gets himself chopped I find something concrete that I can take to him without risking him telling his guard to cut my throat or ordering me to slit my wrists. Even if he would regret it ten minutes later.’

‘It’s dangerous, dear. You know that, don’t you?’

There wasn’t any answer to that. Not one I hadn’t given her already, anyway, and she could’ve supplied it herself.

I was glad I’d met Vinicianus, mind; he’d been a real possible for a conspirator, virtually a cert. But if I was going to rattle anyone’s cage it would have to be the guy’s who’d come across so far as the weakest link. Which meant Sextus Papinius’s brother and fellow tribune, Lucius. We’d have a crack at him tomorrow.

Like Perilla had said, it was late. I closed my eyes, concentrated on the swaying of the litter, and let myself drift into a doze.

I
was over at the house on Patricius Incline by the fourth hour the next day. This time the gate slave was awake, and he remembered me.

‘You’ll be wanting to see the young master, no doubt, sir,’ he said. ‘Master Lucius.’

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ I said. ‘He at home?’

‘That he is, sir, but there’s another gentleman with him at present, and if you don’t mind I’ll make sure that he’s not occupied first. If you’d care to wait a moment?’

‘Who’s the—?’ I began, but the guy was gone, disappearing through the garden gate.

He took his time coming back; in fact I’d been kicking my heels for a good five minutes before he reappeared.

‘I’m sorry for the wait, sir,’ he said. ‘You’re to go in. The gentlemen are in the atrium. You know the way?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah, sure.’

I went through the garden, into the house and through the lobby to the atrium. The couch where young Sextus’s body had lain was still there, but the man sitting on it I recognized from the time at Longinus’s place. So, Valerius Asiaticus himself, right? This was going to prove even more interesting than I’d expected.

Papinius was sitting next to him, in his tribune’s uniform minus the hardware, and he was scowling. There was a folding stool – probably the same one Papinius had been using when I’d visited the house before – set about four feet in front of them, dead centre.

The whole thing felt staged, set for a trial. Or maybe ‘inquisition’ would be a better term.

‘Well, well.’ Asiaticus was smiling, or at least his mouth was. ‘Valerius Corvinus, as I live and breathe. How very nice to see you again. Please do come in and have a seat.’

I moved forwards and glanced down at the stool. ‘No thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll stay where I am.’

‘As you like.’

‘I thought the guy on the gate had brought the message that I wanted to see Lucius Papinius.’

Papinius raised his head, but he said nothing. He still had the deep scowl on his face, and he was looking at me with something very close to hatred.

‘And you are seeing him,’ Asiaticus said. ‘The only difference is that you’re seeing me as well. I thought you might be pleased about that.’

‘Oh? How so?’

‘Because you think we’re both conspiring against the emperor.’

Shit; the gloves were off here and no mistake!

‘Are you?’ I said.

Asiaticus laughed. ‘Oh, now, Corvinus!’ he said. ‘You know Caesar doesn’t believe that! It’s been thoroughly gone into by better men than you, and the possibility has been dismissed for the nonsense it is. You’re not thinking of accusing us to him again yourself, are you? Because trust me, that would be very, very silly.’

‘Yeah, I know that, pal,’ I said equably. ‘The thought never entered my head.’

The smile slipped a bit. ‘Then why are you here?’

‘I told you that the last time I saw you. Or at least I told Cassius Longinus in your hearing. I’m investigating the death of Naevius Surdinus. At his niece’s request. She wasn’t satisfied – and quite rightly so – that the job was properly finished. I’m finishing it now, that’s all.’

I’d fazed him, which was all to the good. Always nice to see one of those cocksure bastards have to go in for a bit of drastic retrenching.

‘What have I to do with Surdinus?’ he said. ‘I hardly knew the man.’

‘But I said,’ I was bland, ‘I came to talk to the tribune here. I didn’t even know you’d be visiting. Still, now you mention it, I think you had some connection with him, at least. Maybe quite a lot.’

‘Such as what?’

‘The day after I called in at your pal Longinus’s, somebody arranged for me to be attacked. For reasons that we won’t go into, it must’ve been one of the four of you, and for more reasons ditto it had to be you.’

‘That’s complete nonsense!’ But his eyelids had flickered. ‘I told you, beyond a nodding acquaintance I had no connection with Naevius Surdinus whatsoever. Why the hell would I want to kill him?’

‘Because I think he … posed a danger.’

‘Oh? What sort of danger?’

Shit; I was sweating here myself, now. The answer, of course – if the theory held, precise whys and wherefores aside – was to the members of the inner conspiracy, of which, if he’d been the guy behind Surdinus’s death,
ipso facto
Asiaticus was one, if not the actual guiding force. Exactly the area I was pussy-footing around. From the smug way the guy was looking at me, he knew it too. This was a challenge.

Like he’d said, I didn’t have enough in the bank for a direct accusation. I folded.

‘I’m not completely sure of that yet,’ I said.

‘Fine. Fine.’ He was smiling again. ‘Well, you just keep it that way, will you, Corvinus? It might be safer.’

‘Incidentally,’ I said, ‘where’s Anicius Cerialis at present?’

The smile faltered. ‘What?’

‘Mind your own fucking business,’ Papinius ground out. Silent or not up to now, he hadn’t taken his eyes off me throughout the whole conversation.

I turned to him. ‘It was an innocent-enough question, pal,’ I said mildly. ‘This is his house, after all.’

‘He’s in Capua,’ Asiaticus said. ‘Negotiating the sale of some property he owns there. Why do you ask?’

I shrugged. ‘Just curious,’ I said. ‘It just struck me that he wouldn’t be exactly flavour of the month here, that’s all.’

‘Why shouldn’t he be?’

‘Well, you know best about that. But me, if I’d found out that he was responsible for blowing the whistle on some of my friends, even though they were … misguided’ – I chose the word carefully – ‘then I’d be pretty miffed with him. Particularly if they’d ended up tortured to death. I’m thinking primarily of Julius Graecinus. He was a good mate of yours, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, he was,’ Asiaticus said stiffly. ‘But, as you say, he was misguided enough to conspire against the emperor. I’m afraid he deserved all he got. And I certainly don’t hold Cerialis’s loyalty against him.’

I glanced at Papinius. He was clenching and unclenching his fists. Yeah, well, pal, I thought, if you don’t then someone else does, in spades. I remembered the last time I’d been in this room, with Papinius’s brother lying dead on the couch and Papinius himself getting stewed and gritting his teeth while he went through the motions of covering up for the guy’s murderers. That’d been an instance of loyalty as well, although in the elder Papinius’s case it’d been a conflict of loyalties. Which was why I’d come here in the first place. If it hadn’t been for the accident of Asiaticus being here, I might’ve had a chance of turning him. As it was, he’d clearly been told to keep his mouth firmly closed and toe the party line.

Ah, well. You win some, you lose some. And there might be another opportunity later.

‘While we’re on the subject of your mates,’ I said easily, ‘I was at a dinner party yesterday evening with a couple more of them. At the palace. We sat together, as it happens.’

‘Really. How splendid for you.’

‘Yeah. Tiberius Claudius and Annius Vinicianus.’

Was that another flicker? ‘Claudius, I know very well,’ he said. ‘We’ve been close friends for years, and of course I owe what political career I once had to the good graces of his mother, the Lady Antonia. But Vinicianus … no, you’ve misunderstood, Corvinus. I certainly know the gentleman, and we’ve sat together at dinner parties at the palace ourselves, but I wouldn’t count him a positive friend. Only an acquaintance.’

‘Uh-huh. These, uh, dinners at the palace. Your wife’d be there, wouldn’t she? The emperor’s erstwhile sister-in-law?’

‘Yes, of course.’ He’d coloured slightly. ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

‘Not a lot. I’d just heard that the emperor was sweet on her for a while, that’s all.’

I thought Asiaticus was going to hit me. Even Papinius looked startled.

‘My marital circumstances, Corvinus,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘are no bloody concern of yours. Now if your only remaining business is to waste everyone’s time by making snide remarks, I’d suggest that you leave.’

I glanced at Papinius, but he was still obviously obeying instructions and keeping out of things. Well, under the circumstances there wasn’t much more I could do in any case.

‘Fine, pal,’ I said. ‘We didn’t get round to the subject of Arrecinus Clemens, mind. Your boss, Papinius, the joint Prefect of Praetorians. Not that it matters much, I’ve got enough to be going on with at present.’ Both of them were staring at me now. Papinius’s mouth was slightly open. ‘Me, I’d like to see this thing wrapped up by the start of the Palatine Games, but we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed, right?’

‘
What did you say?
’ Asiaticus whispered. His face had gone grey.

I gave him a sunny smile. ‘Just some nonsense of Naevia Postuma’s,’ I said. ‘You know she talks to Alexander?
The
Alexander, I mean. Well, seemingly she – or he, rather – thinks it’s some sort of key date. Nonsense, like I say, but I’d rather keep the old girl happy.’ I turned. ‘Well, thanks for all your help, gentlemen. It’s been most … illuminating.’

I left. I could feel their eyes boring into my back all the way to the front door. Cages duly rattled, with a vengeance.

I just hoped I hadn’t shaken the bars too hard, that was all.

‘Marcus, you absolute
fool
!’ Perilla snapped when I told her how the interview had gone. ‘You’ve put yourself in terrible danger!’

‘Yeah, well, maybe I did get a bit carried away, but—’

‘Don’t you realize? If you’re right, which you probably are, those men are on the verge of staging a
coup d’état
. They can’t take risks, and they are
not
going to balk at killing anyone they even suspect might prevent them succeeding!’ She was sitting up on her couch and glaring at me. ‘You bloody,
bloody
idiot!’

‘Perilla, look, there’re only seven days to go to the Games. If that’s when it’s going to happen—’

‘You can
not
help the emperor by getting yourself killed. And frankly I can’t see why you should even risk it. You admit he’s a monster, or rapidly becoming one, and that Rome would be better off without him.’

‘True, but—’

‘Holy Mother Juno, you don’t even
like
the man! You haven’t even got that excuse!’

I sighed. ‘Perilla, we’ve been through this already. I told you: liking or whatever has nothing to do with it. Murder is murder, and treason’s treason. Gaius is the emperor, and he’s a human being.’ I held my hand up as she opened her mouth. ‘OK. The jury’s out on that last one, I admit, but still. I can’t just sit back twiddling my thumbs and let it happen. Not when there’s a chance I can stop it.’

‘Very well. Take your chances. Go to him and tell him what you know. At least then it’ll be out of your hands, and it may well save your life.’

‘Don’t be melodramatic.’

‘I am not being melodramatic, Marcus! I’m being …
bloody
… realistic!’

Jupiter! I took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly.

‘I can’t do that,’ I said. ‘I keep telling you, I don’t actually
know
anything. Not for absolute sure. That’s the problem.’

‘Very well. Tell him what you
think
you know. It’s better than nothing, and as you say you’re running out of time.’

Fair point. More than fair: I couldn’t spend the next seven days faffing around in the hope that something would magically pop up, only to have Gaius murdered at the end of them. I sighed again.

‘Yeah. Maybe you’re right,’ I said. ‘I’ll go round to the palace first thing tomorrow morning. You happy now?’

She sniffed. ‘Not especially. In fact, not at all, really, but I suppose it’s the best I can expect under the circumstances. So. What have we got? What’s the theory, at least?’

‘That there’s a conspiracy to assassinate Gaius during the Palatine Games. That the earlier conspiracy was a blind, constructed by the conspirators to distract Gaius’s and his man Felix’s attention from the real one a couple of months later and have them drop their guard. That …’ I stopped. ‘Shit!’

‘What is it?’

‘They’d need an
agent provocateur
. Someone party to the real conspiracy but involved – on the surface of things, anyway – with the fake one. And someone who, when the time came, would blow the whistle to Gaius and have the whole boiling rolled up.’

‘Valerius Asiaticus. Yes, we know.’

‘Uh-uh.’ I shook my head. ‘Not him. Oh, sure, he’s involved in the real conspiracy up to his neck, no arguments. But if he had been the whistle-blower, either Felix or Gaius himself would’ve told me in so many words. Besides, Gaius obviously despises the man.’

‘Very well, then. Who?’

‘Anicius Cerialis.’

‘
What?
Marcus, that is just silly! Cerialis was an
agent provocateur
, certainly, but he was working for …’ She stopped, and her eyes widened as her brain caught up. ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Right. It had to be him. He was playing it three ways. The dupes in the first conspiracy – Graecinus and so on – thought he was with them right up until he sold them down the river to Gaius, which was how Gaius – or Felix, anyway – thought he’d arranged things. Only Cerialis wasn’t working for Gaius either; he was working for his pals in the real conspiracy, or acting on their instructions, anyway. My bet is that that’s why Surdinus died. Whether or not he was one of the dupes I don’t know; he may’ve been, because like a lot of them he was a starry-eyed idealist at heart. In any case, he found out somehow – or suspected, at least – that Cerialis was playing it two ways. Knowing he was working for Gaius would’ve been bad enough, but my guess is that he’d cut the corner and discovered he was with Asiaticus and his mates.’

‘Why so?’

‘Lady, we’ve been through this before, remember? Because if Surdinus had only discovered he was a double, Gaius – Felix, whoever – could’ve cut his losses and rolled the conspiracy up there and then. Like he did when I shoved my oar in. Inconvenient and scrappy, sure, and it’d offend Felix’s passion for neatness, but not the end of the world, because most if not all of the conspirators were known names already. Only if Surdinus were to tell Gaius that Cerialis was hobnobbing with someone outside the net, and that person was involved in the real conspiracy—’