Finished Business (8 page)

Meanwhile, I had Lawyer Venullius to talk to. Then it was home for a bit of a think.

‘E
verything to do with the will checks out,’ I said to Perilla when I was changed into a dry tunic and ensconced in the atrium with a cup of wine beside me. ‘Apart from a few minor bequests, Surdinus Junior gets the bulk of the estate; Marcus – Hellenus – gets a third, while Tarquitia gets the interest on fifty thousand sesterces and the capital when she marries. Which, of course, we know she’s done already. So at least no one’s telling porkies there, and there’s nothing we’re missing.’

‘Hmm.’ Perilla was twisting a lock of her hair. ‘You’re sure Hellenus and Tarquitia were working together?’

‘Yeah. That’s more or less beyond doubt. And everything fits in. Vulpis at the Poppies confirmed that Hellenus did their wall paintings for them about eighteen months ago. That must’ve been when he first met Tarquitia. Whether or not they’re an item sexually – then or now – I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter. Business partners, now that’s another thing entirely.’

‘I’d go for yes, myself,’ Perilla said. ‘Her husband strikes me as more or less a dead weight, and apart from providing her with a legal claim to the bequest capital, he doesn’t really serve any useful purpose. He certainly has no right to a share of the money; that was left specifically to her.’

‘Yeah, right.’ I took a mouthful of the wine. ‘As far as the scam itself is concerned, the whys and wherefores are pretty obvious. The original idea was Hellenus’s. He couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t be written out of his father’s will completely; all it would take would be a clause to that effect, specifically excluding him by name from a share in the estate. So he needed a little nest-egg in advance, something up front. Hence the deal with Tarquitia, the purpose being to milk the old man of as much as he could before he hung up his clogs. Plus, naturally, anything he could get would be all the less at the end of the day for Surdinus Junior to inherit. I reckon that figured pretty highly, too.’

‘So he arranged the … well, we’d best call it the
encounter
between his father and Tarquitia.’

‘Yeah. Of course, he couldn’t be sure anything’d come of it, but Tarquitia is a very sharp cookie, and I’d say where attracting men is concerned she knows what she’s doing.’

‘As you proved yourself, dear.’

I grinned. ‘Bugger off, lady. Fixing things up wouldn’t’ve been difficult. He hadn’t any formal connections with his family any more, sure, but I’ll bet you there was someone among the bought help he’d kept in touch with, or who’d kept in touch with him. An old nanny, maybe, or more likely a female slave with a crush. He’s pretty good-looking, our Hellenus, and a smooth talker. Me, I’d bet women just fall into his lap. He and Tarquitia make a good pair. It’d just be a case of waiting for the word that his father was going to a dinner party where there’d be dancing girls laid on for dessert and that’d be it. Tarquitia could arrange the switch easy as pie, and the rest would be up to her.’

Perilla put her chin on her hand. ‘It’s all very cold-blooded, though, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I mean, on both their parts. After all, Hellenus had made his choice; he’d walked out on his father saying he wanted no more to do with him. And Surdinus couldn’t’ve behaved better towards Tarquitia. His own wife said he treated her more as a daughter than a mistress. The whole thing’s completely sordid and shabby.’

‘Agreed. I’m not defending them. Far from it. Still, I very much doubt that they’re our killers, either one or both together, and that’s the important thing at present.’

‘Of course, you can make a case for Hellenus. On his own, without Tarquitia.’

‘Is that so, now?’ I settled down and took another swig of the wine. ‘Go ahead, lady. You have the floor.’

‘Let’s say he did know the details of the will after all. That isn’t impossible, given that he was working with Tarquitia. Quite the reverse; we only ever had her word that Surdinus never told her them, and we know what that’s worth.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Very well. How do you think Surdinus might have reacted if he were to find out there was a connection between his mistress and his younger son? Particularly – and he wasn’t a stupid man, remember – if he discovered the nature of the relationship?’

‘How would he do that?’

‘Perhaps someone told him.’

‘Like who?’

‘His other son. It wouldn’t’ve been too difficult for Surdinus Junior to arrange for Tarquitia to be secretly followed, to see if she were up to something. In which case she would have led him straight to Hellenus.’

Shit; she was right. It was possible, in fact it was more than possible, and the natural thing for Junior to do when he discovered he was being systematically ripped off by his father’s mistress. If he could prove to Surdinus that Tarquitia was nothing but a chiseller on the make – and, worse, that she’d been planted on him by his estranged younger son – then the scam was dead in the water.

‘Chances are he’d’ve confronted her, then gone off and changed his will,’ I said. ‘Disinherited Hellenus, cancelled the fifty thousand bequest. And, of course, any up-and-coming plans for selling more property to her at a peppercorn price.’

‘Exactly. Hellenus would have lost his third of the estate, and while all the property Tarquitia had persuaded his father to make over to her would be hers in law, he’d have no claim on it at all. In effect, he’d be left penniless, with no prospects, and in a far worse position than he’d been in before. Totally dependent on her goodwill. The threat of all that would give him a prime motive for murder.’

Bugger, it would, too. Even so …

‘I’m sorry, lady,’ I said, ‘but it won’t work.’

‘Really?’ She sniffed. ‘You don’t think Hellenus is capable of murdering his father? Of arranging the murder, anyway?’

‘Oh, sure.’ He would be, too: the guy had been convincing and pleasant enough when I talked to him, but I was too old a hand at this game to let that weigh. And given a viable motive I’d bet he had the intelligence and willpower to think things out and carry them through. ‘No problems there.’

‘Well, then.’

‘Come on, Perilla! Think it through. Junior finds out about the scam and tells his father, with the result that the old man decides to change his will. Very shortly afterwards, Surdinus is dead and I turn up on the doorstep to break the glad news to him that it was murder. So what happens then?’

‘Ah.’

‘“Ah” is right. Given the circumstances, the guy would be falling over himself to point the finger. Quite understandably so. Only he didn’t, ergo he didn’t know anything about the scam, ergo the theory’s up the creek without a paddle. QED. No, my guess is that Tarquitia’s little con – or Hellenus’s, if you like – had nothing to do with the murder.’

‘Hmm. All right, Marcus. Point taken.’ She was looking seriously miffed, and I stifled a grin. If there’s one thing the lady hates it’s coming off second best. ‘So. What now?’

‘I confront her with it. Oh, sure, I know it won’t do much good, and like I say it probably isn’t relevant, but it’ll clear the air. Then it’s back to furkling around hoping that something comes up.’

‘Furkling around where, dear?’ Prickly as hell.

‘I thought I might pay a visit to Cassius Longinus.’

‘Why would you want to do that? And
don’t
say, “Because he’s there”.’

I grinned again, openly this time. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘You want the theory? To put him in the frame, I mean?’

‘Certainly, if you have one that’s valid.’

Ouch.

I topped up my cup from the jug. ‘Sullana claims she had an affair with him twenty-five years ago, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘She also said that if Surdinus had offered her a divorce any time these thirty-odd years she’d’ve agreed straight away.’

‘So?’

‘So if they’d been married thirty-seven years – which they had been – then the gilt must’ve worn off the gingerbread pretty quickly after the wedding. Certainly long before she decided to look for love and affection elsewhere. Maybe as much as ten years, and that’s a long time in a marriage that isn’t working.’

‘Marcus, dear, what exactly are you getting at?’

‘Gaius Secundus told me that Longinus was a very old friend of the family, dating much further back than his and Surdinus’s joint consulship. Oh, sure, twenty-five years would qualify him as that, no argument; but me, I was wondering about the gap.’

‘What gap?’

‘Between twenty-five years and, quote, “thirty-odd”.’

‘Marcus …’

‘Wait a minute, lady. Just listen. Say that when she talked to me Sullana was fudging things a little, intentionally so, and the affair happened closer to the thirty-five year mark – there’s your “thirty-odd” – rather than the twenty-five. That’d put Sullana in her very early twenties, pre-kids and a couple of years into a bad marriage; Longinus – presumably, given he was consul ten years back – just a bit older. Unmarried, unattached.’

‘And how do you
know
he was unmarried and unattached?’

I ignored her. ‘The perfect age and conditions for an affair, on both sides. And, well, it fits in pretty neatly with Surdinus Junior’s age.’

She was staring at me. ‘Marcus Corvinus, you should be ashamed of yourself!’ she said. ‘That is groundless speculation, pure and simple, and very close to muckraking! You’ve no evidence for Longinus being Surdinus’s father. None whatsoever.’

‘Sure I don’t. But it’s an angle worth considering if Longinus’s coming back to Rome at a time just predating Surdinus’s death is no coincidence. Sullana says that up to a month ago her husband had never even suspected she’d had an affair, and when she told him she had and who with, he was furious.’

‘But why on earth should Longinus kill Surdinus? If anything, it ought to be the other way round.’

‘Maybe he threatened to, and Longinus got in first.’

‘Corvinus, that is absolute nonsense!’

‘Or he was threatening to disinherit his elder son. Who, of course, wouldn’t be his elder son at all.’

‘That might be an additional reason for Surdinus Junior to kill his father, but it would have nothing to do with Longinus.’

‘Oh, yes, it would. If the thing went through, particularly just after Surdinus had divorced his wife of almost forty years, whether he made the reason public or not, people would put two and two together, and the chances are they’d come up with the right answer. Sullana would be disgraced, his natural son would lose a major inheritance, and the oh-so-honourable-and-upright Cassius Longinus wouldn’t come out of things looking too good, either. Plus the timing would be catastrophic. The guy’s just been hauled back to Rome, presumably in disgrace for committing some misdemeanour, anything up to and including treason, but probably just that, and his career’s already enough on the skids without word getting round that he’s the father of his erstwhile colleague’s elder son, when his reputation would go down the tubes as well. I’d say all that was a good enough reason for murder.’

‘Poppycock.’

‘Yeah, well, you can sneer all you like, lady, but at least it means that Longinus needs checking out. We only have Cornelia Sullana’s version of things to go on. Maybe his will be different. Or can you suggest another avenue I should be exploring?’

‘No, but …’

‘Fine. Longinus it is, then.’ I reached for the jug and refilled my wine cup. ‘After I’ve talked with Tarquitia.’

I
was half-expecting no one to be at home in the Old Villa, but when I knocked – under the watchful and censorious eye of Surdinus Junior’s door slave sitting on a stool outside the villa’s main entrance – it was eventually opened by a youngish guy in a freedman’s cap. No birthmark, though.

‘Uh … I was hoping to talk to Tarquitia, pal,’ I said.

‘No problem. They’re in the dining room. Come in.’ He stepped aside.

I followed him through the lobby and the atrium. Sure enough, the place seemed to be a separate house in itself, or maybe ‘apartment’ would be a better word, because everything was on a much smaller scale than in the main building. It felt and smelled disused, though, and what statues or furniture were present were either covered in sheets or dull from lack of polishing, while the atrium pool itself was empty barring half an inch of rainwater from the opening in the ceiling above it, already turning scummy. A basic house staff responsible for the cleaning and the other usual domestic chores hadn’t come with the deal, then. Not that, for five silver pieces, Tarquitia could complain that she’d been short-changed. I wondered who the freedman was.

‘You’ve got a visitor,’ the guy said.

Tarquitia and Hellenus were lying on one of the couches, holding wine cups. There was a jug – plain earthenware, like the cups – on the table in front of them, and a third cup half-full. Friend, then, not servant.

‘Valerius Corvinus,’ Tarquitia said. ‘What a surprise.’

‘Yeah, I can see it must be.’ I was looking at Hellenus. He said nothing, just returned the look and took a slow drink from his cup. ‘You know each other, then?’

‘Very well. But, of course, that won’t come as much of a surprise to you, will it?’ She was perfectly relaxed – in fact, she was smiling. ‘Marcus told me you’d seen my picture at the workshop, so making that particular deduction wouldn’t have been difficult. And presumably you’ve worked out the rest of it, too.’

‘“Marcus”?’ I said to Hellenus. ‘I thought you didn’t use your real name any more.’

He shrugged. ‘A condition of the old man’s will. I don’t mind too much, considering what I’ve got in exchange. Besides, it’ll embarrass the hell out of my poker-arsed brother to have a jobbing artist using the family name. I can get used to it. As can my fiancée here.’

‘Fiancée? I thought the lady was married already.’

‘Only temporarily.’ Tarquitia looked past me at the freedman, who was still hovering. ‘Damion, find another cup for our guest here, will you?’ She looked back at me. ‘It’s a celebration, Corvinus, and you’re welcome to join us. Sit down, have some wine.’

I stayed standing. ‘Too early for me, lady,’ I said. ‘Thanks all the same.’

‘Suit yourself, but it’s Falernian. Good Falernian. Damion’s brother is in the wine trade, and he supplies some of the best houses in Rome.’ I said nothing. ‘No? Ah, well, your loss. Damion, could you give us a moment, please? I think Valerius Corvinus would like a word in private.’

The freedman grunted, came over, picked up the third cup, filled it to the brim, and went out.

‘So.’ Tarquitia was still smiling. ‘Would you like to begin, or shall I?’

‘The whole business – your affair with Surdinus – was a set-up, right from the start. You and Hellenus here arranged the whole thing.’

‘Yes, we did.’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘Hellenus – Marcus, rather.’ She turned to plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘I really do need to get used to calling you that, dear. Marcus was doing the artwork for the Poppies and we sort of drifted together. I didn’t know he was who he was at the time, mind. Then one day he told me about this brilliant idea he’d had.’

‘To screw his rich daddy,’ I said neutrally. ‘In both senses of the word.’

She coloured slightly. ‘If you’re going to be unpleasant,’ she said, ‘then you can leave. We’re not greedy. Marcus only wanted to make sure of getting what was his by right.’

‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘So you waited for an opportunity to, ah, effect an introduction.’

‘It wasn’t easy.’ Hellenus reached for the jug and topped up their cups. ‘My father didn’t go to that sort of party as a general rule. Oh, he wasn’t a prude, he just found it below his dignity, and so did most of his friends. But eventually we struck lucky; one of his younger philosopher pals who was a bit more red-blooded than most. After that it was easy. Tarquitia knew one of the girls who’d been hired, some money changed hands, and that was that.’

‘You found out that your father was going to the dinner through one of his household?’

‘Yes. Penelope.’ He exchanged an amused glance with Tarquitia. ‘Faithful Penelope. She was one of Mother’s maids. Pleasant little thing, a bit mousey but quite good-looking in her way. We stayed in touch after I left, and she kept me informed about what was going on. Of course, after the divorce, all that stopped, but by that time it didn’t really matter.’

‘So if your father didn’t make a habit of furkling pushy dancing girls’ – that got me a glare from Tarquitia, but I ignored it – ‘how did you manage to hook him?’

‘Oh, that was all my lovely girl’s doing.’ He hugged her. ‘She’s a smart little thing, Corvinus. But of course you know that. If she’d been pushy, like you say, thrown herself at him literally, he’d’ve run a mile. No, she made it look like a complete accident, and she was most apologetic and embarrassed. Weren’t you, lover?’ He kissed her again. ‘The suggestion that the girls stay on after finishing their act, naturally, came from my father’s friend, and she went to Dad’s couch straight away. With suitable modesty and reluctance, I might add.’ Beside him, Tarquitia giggled and buried her face in her wine cup. ‘And despite what the friend and the other girl were getting up to on the other couch, there was absolutely no funny business.’

‘We talked,’ Tarquitia said. ‘He wanted to know about my family. I told him my father lived in Padua, where he made cheap jewellery, but he was losing his sight and I’d come to Rome so I could make enough to support him. Complete hogwash, of course; the closest my father ever got to being blind was blind drunk, and we haven’t been in touch for years, but Lucius lapped it up. When the evening ended he said he wanted to see me again, and that was it.’

‘Did you ever sleep with him?’ I asked.

‘Oh, yes. Not often, though. Like Hellenus – Marcus – told you, he found the whole sexual thing a bit beneath his dignity. But he thought I’d expect it, so he did it. Tried his best to, anyway.’ She frowned. ‘Corvinus, Lucius was a nice man. A very nice man indeed; the kindest and most generous I’ve ever met. I told you that before, and I meant it. Don’t go away thinking I didn’t see it, or that I wasn’t grateful.’

‘Certainly not,’ I said. ‘Perish the thought.’

That got me another glare.

‘So, anyway,’ Hellenus said, ‘here we are. Project successfully completed and, I should point out, perfectly within the law. Like Tarquitia said, we’re not greedy, either of us. Tarquitia’s sold this place back to my brother for, in effect, the difference between my third of the estate and a full half share, which is, admittedly, on the pricey side, but we had him over a barrel and he would’ve paid far more to remove the embarrassment. Hence’ – he raised his cup – ‘the celebration, because she’s just signed the contract.
She
has, of course, as the owner, although the money will come to me; the only reason I’m here is that I wouldn’t have missed for worlds the look on Lucius’s face when he saw us together. The other properties my father gave her – sold her, rather – well, they’ll be hers as they already are absolutely. She’s certainly earned them, and as far as I’m concerned they’re just the icing on the cake. Call it an advance wedding present.’

‘What about Otillius?’ I turned to Tarquitia. ‘By the way, I promised him that when I saw you again I’d tell you he’s willing to have you back. There, that’s done.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, I finished with poor Titus long ago,’ she said. ‘What I ever saw in that brute, let alone why I married him, I don’t know.’ (‘Beefcake,’ Hellenus murmured, grinning, and she elbowed him in the ribs.) ‘But I repeat, we’re not greedy. If he agrees to a divorce, I’ll make over Lucius’s bequest to him
in toto
. The whole fifty thousand. We don’t really need it, after all, Marcus and me, we have plenty to keep us going, and believe me, Corvinus, he will jump at it.’

Yeah, he probably would. And, to my mind, he’d be getting the best of the deal. Still, it was sad.

‘So what happens now?’ I said.

‘I told you.’ Hellenus took a swallow of wine. ‘We travel, and we do it in style. Athens, Pergamum, Alexandria, the complete eastern tour, as soon as the shipping lanes open again in spring. Everything should be settled by then. I may even buy a yacht. Hiring is so middle class, and bunking down in a cargo ship isn’t to be thought of.’

‘Yeah, well.’ I turned to go; I wanted out before I threw up. ‘Good luck to you both.’

‘Corvinus!’ He called me back. ‘Just remember, we’ve only taken what’s due to us. Tarquitia made the old man happier in his final months than he had been for years. And I reckon as an artist I’ve made a bigger contribution to society and human happiness than my brother ever did, or ever will. I deserve my share. And I’ll make better use of it than he ever could.’

‘Right,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you around.’

And I left.

So. That was done, at least for the time being. It was a long hike to the Quirinal, where Longinus hung out, practically the other side of Rome, but I could shorten things by crossing the river on one of the little ferry-boats that plied for hire level with the top end of the Janiculan and then cutting through Mars Field. At least the weather was good, cold but dry, with only a few drifting clouds to remind me that Jupiter was only holding off for the present.

As far as the actual murder was concerned, I had to admit that the home team wasn’t doing so well; in fact, we’d hit a stone wall. Oh, sure, with the Tarquitia/Hellenus side of things stitched up – or at least looking that way for now – we’d made some progress, but not all that much. Me, I still fancied Surdinus Junior as the killer; certainly he’d got by far the best motive, in fact he was practically the only person who had a motive at all:
pace
Perilla, I couldn’t really see old Gallio as a criminal mastermind out to save the family inheritance at the cost of its current prime representative. Still, time would show. Or maybe – and this was the bummer – it wouldn’t. Not unless we could get a lead on Cilix’s scarface freedman.

Assuming, of course, that he was the actual perp after all, and hadn’t just been after Surdinus’s game-birds …

Bugger.

Longinus, despite what I’d said to Perilla, I didn’t hold out too much hope for. Yeah, well, he could’ve had a motive in line with the one I’d given him, but the chances that he’d done the deed, or had it done for him, rather, were pretty slim. It’d have to be fast work, for a start, if he’d only been back in Rome for half a month or so, and from Secundus’s description of him he didn’t seem the killing type. Still, he was all that was on offer currently, and I couldn’t turn my nose up at him.

I made my way across the Saepta to the old Sanqualis Gate and onto High Path. Near the Shrine of Mars, Secundus had said, the Armilustrum. A quick stop at a corner baker’s shop selling sesame twists and poppy-seed pastries to get final directions plus a much-needed late-morning snack, and I found the house itself.

Very nice, which was par for the area. Own grounds, surrounding wall, gateposts with sphinxes on the top. We were talking serious money here; evidently this branch of the Cassii had taken up the slack in the three generations since
the
Cassius Longinus had blotted the family copybook. Although, in all probability, the family themselves wouldn’t see it that way, and the villains of the tale would be old Julius and his parvenu successors. The fact that Great Grandfather Gaius had gone down the tubes of history at Philippi fighting against the guy who would later become the Divine Augustus wouldn’t make him, to them, any less of a hero. Quite the reverse.

There was a door slave in a natty blue tunic sitting on the bench outside. I gave him my name, though not my business, and he went to check if the master was At Home.

He was, seemingly, and I was shown through to the study.

Mid-fifties, tall, broad, fit-looking, with strong features and short wiry grey hair going white at the temples. He wasn’t alone; there were three other men with him of much the same age, all wearing senatorial broad-striper mantles.

We were in heavy company here. Bugger. Possibly
not
the time to broach the topic of an illicit love affair and an illegitimate son.

‘I’m delighted to meet you, Valerius Corvinus,’ Longinus said. ‘Knew your father well. Fine man. Now. What can I do for you?’

‘Uh … I’m sorry, sir,’ I said. ‘You’re busy and it’s not urgent. I’ll call again later when you’re alone.’

I half-turned to follow the slave back out, but his hand grasped my shoulder.

‘Nonsense, my dear fellow, I wouldn’t hear of it!’ he said, letting the shoulder go and patting it. ‘And my friends certainly won’t mind. They only called to welcome me back to Rome. Here.’ He pulled up a spare stool. ‘Sit yourself down.’

Hell. ‘Really, sir, I’d rather—’

‘Sit!’ I sat. ‘I’m forgetting my manners. Julius Graecinus, Anicius Cerialis and Valerius Asiaticus. No relation of yours, I hasten to add. Hails from Gaul originally, poor devil.’

As, from the looks of him, did Graecinus: they both had typically Gallic fair complexions and the tell-tale reddish hair. Cerialis, on the other hand, was pure upper-class Roman. I nodded, and they nodded back. Pretty frostily, I thought. Despite what Longinus had said, they didn’t look too pleased at the interruption.

‘Right, Corvinus. I’m fully at your service,’ Longinus said. ‘Fire away.’

‘Ah … it’s about the death of Naevius Surdinus,’ I said. ‘He was your consular colleague, ten years back?’

‘Yes, indeed he was. And before that a good friend of long standing.’ Longinus frowned. ‘Terrible thing, that accident. Terrible. What a way to go. Poor old Lucius.’

‘It wasn’t an accident, sir. He was murdered. I’m, uh, looking into it as a favour to his niece, Naevia Postuma.’