"Yes, how unlikely. But we know she thought him a coward, darling... Then," said Helena calmly to Honorius, "you have a link between Paccius urging Metellus to commit suicide, Calpurnia suggesting death by hemlock, and Bratta, known to be a run-around for Paccius, buying hemlock. Yes, the defence can argue that the drug was for other purposes - but you will ask them what. There are not many uses commonly. You can dismiss any suggestion as a curious coincidence."
"They will maintain Bratta simply bought the hemlock for use by Negrinus," Honorius offered. "They"ll say Negrinus requested it."
"He will deny it."
"They will say he"s a shameless liar. We can only retaliate by trying to discredit them."
"I"ll sort that," I said. "Your job is to imply Paccius Africa.n.u.s - now openly attacking Negrinus - has become an evil influence in the Metellus family. Stress a dark connection between Paccius and the mother -"
"Conspiracy with Calpurnia? Unproven," reflected Honorius, "but any jury will a.s.sume the reasons were s.e.xual. We don"t even have to say it. They will be eager to draw the worst conclusion. Then -"
"Then Paccius had also worked on Metellus, wickedly persuading him to disinherit his son and two daughters, in favour of Saffia," I ticked off "So... we suggest an unsuitable affinity between Metellus and his daughter-in-law, plus more immorality between Paccius and Saffia." Honorius, supposedly the young idealist, came out with these shameless slurs automatically. I was impressed.
"Working with Silius has had its effect," I commented.
"Working against Silius and Paccius will not be easy."
"That"s right," I grinned. "Be aware of the odds. Then you can"t fail."
Honorius was silent. The good-looking patrician always knew when we were mocking him, though he never knew how to respond. Taking pity, Helena asked if he would make anything of my identification of Bratta among my last night"s attackers. Honorius turned to her, answering courteously, "We do not have much else to offer the court. So yes. It always goes down well to suggest that the opposition uses thuggery."
"Threats are viewed badly by juries - and they hate disorder in the streets," I agreed.
Honorius had been mulling. "I shall present Negrinus as an unworldly, innocent victim, set up by a gang of cynical bullies who habitually try to pervert justice. Keep that bandage on your eye, Falco. In fact, Helena Justina, it would help if you could pad it out to look slightly bigger. If his bruises fade, you may be able to enhance them with a little feminine eye colour -"
"Eye paint?" Helena asked frostily. I was aware that she used it on special occasions; I grinned at her.
"Yes, try orchid rouge, with smudges of blue put on afterwards." Honorius was serious. He had done it in the past. How fortunate that this manipulator was on our side - though we had yet to see what tricks the others would play to disadvantage us.
"How will it look about Saffia getting the money?" Aelia.n.u.s broke in. "Bad, surely?"
Honorius thought. "She will be mentioned - the accusers must go through the terms of the will in order to show how unfairly Negrinus has been treated. That"s his supposed motive. Silius cannot avoid mentioning the trust set up for Saffia - I think Silius will do it, to distance Paccius. It won"t serve much purpose for us to speculate on why Saffia. (Well, not unless we can find out!) But we can point up the sinister Paccius involvement. Jury members who hate informers will object to legacy-chasing." Honorius frowned. "That is not enough, however. Birdy simply must make a claim to overturn this will."
"If he really won"t," said Helena, "You can say, however much he has lost by the unfair provisions of his father"s will, he is a man of very great decency - reluctant to initiate an action while his ex-wife is in the process - the dangerous process - of giving birth to his child."
"Sweet," I muttered. "But even if he"s a thoroughly thoughtful spouse and father, we have to find out why he won"t start the action."
"The two daughters have a case too," Honorius answered. "So they aren"t helping. I asked Carina about any intentions she and Juliana have. Their story is, "We loved our father and are all determined to accept his wishes." Carina"s husband, Verginius, sneerily pointed out how rich he is, and that his wife does not need the money. But Birdy does. And they may have loved their father, but Metellus has shown very publicly that he did not love them. You are ent.i.tled to find their declaration unbelievable." Honorius sounded as if he were in court already.
I drew the discussion to a close abruptly. Helena and her brother hung their heads and made no comment. They both knew my major concern at present was how to stop our inexperienced, uncontrollable colleague poking into things. Honorius had to be stopped. Investigating murder is no game for amateurs.
"I"ll allocate jobs to everyone tomorrow," I said. "Just promise me that none of you will do anything stupid."
"Of course not," said Honorius. "I think I"ll go and see Bratta."
I nearly let the idiot do it. Being beaten up might make him think in future.
XXVII.
BE CAREFUL," warned Helena as I left next day. Determined to impose my authority on my younger partners, I was heading out early. I creaked and had a blind side, but there was no choice.
"Don"t worry. This business is all talk," I replied drily, alluding to her own misplaced belief up until yesterday. A twinge caught me. "As you see!"
I was going to talk about funerals later. It seemed the wrong moment to tell Helena that.
"Don"t get into any fights, Falco."
I winced at the pains I already felt. "No, darling."
First, I went to Rubiria Carina"s house to re-interview her and her brother. On the subject of their father"s will, I extracted no more than Honorius had done. They both meekly accepted their disinheritance and told me that so did the elder sister, Juliana.
"Birdy, Birdy, you"re not helping yourself Indignation will look much better to a court. It"s more natural. We are trying to advise you; contest the will!"
"I can"t," he whimpered. As usual, he gave no reason. When I glared, he stiffened up. "I choose not to. And I will not discuss it." Whatever pressure he was under to make him take this att.i.tude, it must be serious.
"If your father dumped you in favour of your wife, that might just about have been acceptable - but now Saffia has left you. Maybe your strange, devious papa might have altered his will if he had lived - but he ignored the chance. His witnesses were to be called in to swear to his suicide; he could easily have prepared an updated will and had it signed. As far as I know, he made no move to rewrite the conditions or to add a codicil. So, Negrinus, what do you have to say about this?"
"Nothing."
"Did you know about this will?"
"Yes."
"From the start? When it was prepared more than two years ago?"
"Yes."
"Did you argue?"
"No. Father could do as he wished. I had no choice."
"Did you even talk to him about his arrangements?"
A vague look came over that oddly bookish face. "I think he meant to change the will." Negrinus was unconvincing. We could not defend him in court with anything that sounded so insincere.
"Our father was not devious," Carina stated frigidly. She must have been harbouring resentment over my remark.
"Your father had been proved corrupt," I reminded her. "Now it looks as if his personal relationships were as rocky as his business conscience.
"Children have no options in their family heritage," she commented. I saw Birdy heave a huge sigh to himself. His sister only a.s.sumed a look of determination.
"Why did your father favour Saffia Donata?"
"n.o.body likes her," Carina suggested. "Papa felt sorry for her, perhaps."
I could not bring myself to suggest to Birdy that his father had had an affair with his wife.
I did ask these legacy-spurning siblings about their parents" relationship. Why, after a marriage of forty years or more, had their father been so ungenerous to Calpurnia Cara?
"We have no idea," Carina told me firmly. I always felt she was the tough one, but even Birdy clenched his jaw.
"Well, how do you react to this? - I believe your mother killed your father."
"No." They both said it. They spoke up instantly. Then, as if she could not restrain herself, Carina murmured to Birdy, leaving me out of it: "Well, in a way she did. She made the situation unbearable, you know."
I looked at him quizzically. He explained it as their mother trying to force the issue of their father committing suicide. I did not believe that was what Carina had meant. She clammed up, of course.
Now I did tackle Birdy on the obvious solution: "I"m afraid your father made your wife Saffia his fancy piece - and your mother could no longer stand it." Negrinus showed no reaction. Carina flushed, but said nothing. "Were your parents always close to Paccius Africa.n.u.s?"
"They had a business relationship with him," Negrinus answered.
"Your mother too?"
"Why?" It came out very quickly.
"I think her attachment to him may have been rather too close. Still is. Perhaps that was how Calpurnia compensated for her husband"s appalling behaviour with Saffia."
"No."
"Look, I know it"s unpleasant to think about your mother fooling around with other men -" I wondered if it might be relevant that Birdy, with his thin-faced look, and Carina with her wider-cheeked features were so unlike each other.
"Our mother was always chaste, and faithful to Father," Carina corrected me coldly.
Changing the subject, I told them about the informer Bratta buying the hemlock. "I think he acquired it, on instructions from Paccius, for your mother to use."
"No," Birdy said again.
"Come on, Negrinus. You do not want to believe that your mother is a murderess, but it"s her or you. See how a case can be built here. The family graft had been exposed; the family fortune was threatened. Paccius counselled your father to kill himself, your mother strongly supported it. She came up with a plan; Paccius used his man to acquire the drug. So your father took one lot of pills under pressure, changed his mind, thought he was safe - then was put down with another deadly potion like some old horse."
"No," said Negrinus, almost through gritted teeth. He was a man defending his mother - albeit a mother whose testimony would condemn him for parricide. "I wish I"d never mentioned the hemlock plan, Falco. It was just a wild idea we once discussed, speculating on crazy ways to escape our financial losses. It was never serious. And never put into action."
"Why Perseus?"
"What?"
I spelt it out patiently: "You told me your mother wanted to kill a slave as a decoy, using his corpse so your father could go into hiding. The door porter was to be sacrificed. That"s very specific: Perseus was the doomed slave. What had he done?"
"Again, that was just a suggestion..." Negrinus was shifty, though it could be awkwardness because he genuinely did not know.
Frustrated, I was now ready to pull out of the case. I had had plenty of clients I could not trust, but this beat all. I had never felt so much excluded, when excluding me worked utterly against the man"s own interests.
"If you won"t tell me the truth -"
"Everything I have told you is the truth."
I laughed, brutally. "But what have you not told me?"
I left, furious. I had not severed links. I should discuss that with my partners first. Besides, if I dropped the case, I would never learn what was going on. I had my curiosity. I wanted to know what these people were hiding.
It was mid-morning, so I paused and bought a snack at a bar just opposite. This can be a good idea, after a het-up meeting. Many a time staying on the scene had produced something helpful, once people thought I had left.
Eventually, Negrinus emerged and hopped agitatedly on the doorstep until transport was brought for him. I tailed him and was not surprised by where the smart litter headed. He went straight to his mother, like a devoted boy.
Wrong. He went to her house. But her outcast son did not want to see his cruel mama.
In the street outside the Metellus mansion with its yellow Numidian obelisks, he shed the litter and secured an observation post. He got the bar counter - which left me, when I arrived, hiding behind a stinking row of fish-pickle amphorae. He bought a beaker of hot, spiced wine; I had left my drink behind at the previous place. Typical. He was the suspicious character; I was the upright informer. The Fates would adorn him with comforts; I was stuck with a rumbling stomach and a cold a.r.s.e.
What was he doing? When I realised, a sneaky fellow-feeling arose. The n.o.ble Metellus Negrinus was waiting for his mother to go out.
Calpurnia left home in her litter, which was a beaten-up chaise carried by two elderly bearers, one who seemed to have gout, neither. in uniform. I could see she was the pa.s.senger, because the curtains were missing. A miserable female slave, shivering in a thin gown, wandered behind on foot.
She still had possession of the family home, but it looked as if Calpurnia Cara was already down on her luck. Had Paccius Africa.n.u.s stepped in already and laid claim to domestic goods and slaves?
Was Paccius then absolutely sure the three children would not, or could not, contest their father"s odd will?
Negrinus must have known his mama had an appointment. Once her straggling party turned the far corner of the street, he quickly paid for his wine (was the supportive Carina giving him dole money?) then he marched straight across the street. He was using his latch-lifter when the door opened anyway. After a brief conversation, someone let him in. I allowed time for him to start whatever he was planning, then approached the fine front door myself.
I knocked nonchalantly. A slave I failed to recognise appeared after a long pause. "About time." I glared with my good eye. "Wow! What happened to you?"
"I looked up and a pa.s.sing eagle shat very hard in my peeper... So where"s Perseus?"
"Having his lunch."
"He has a nice life."
"You bet!" It was said with feeling.
"I suppose he"ll enjoy several courses and a snug flirtation with the kitchen maid, then stretch out for a relaxed siesta?"
"Don"t ask me!" This lad b.u.t.toned up. He knew better than to gossip any further, but he had let me see he was unhappy. So, in Perseus we had that stock character: the uppity slave who abuses his position - and who somehow gets away with it.
I tipped the subst.i.tute. He let me in. "He"s a character!" I chortled. "Somebody"s favourite is he, your Perseus?" Not from the way I had heard Calpurnia address the lackadaisical beggar before. His neglect of his duties had made her rightly furious. But if something had gone on between Metellus senior and Saffia, and if Perseus knew about it, his arrogance would make sense.
We had a recognisable situation - though rare in a porter. More often, the uppity slave has intimate contact with the master or mistress of the house. In a boudoir maid or a correspondence clerk, abuse of status arises much more easily.
"Perseus has influence," was all I could extract. Maybe my tip was not large enough. Or maybe the staff had learned that it was best to keep quiet.
My next contact was with the superior steward whom I had met on my first visit here. Instinct warned him of trouble and he arrived in the atrium, napkin under his chin. He glanced at my bandage but was too well trained to comment. Losing the bib suavely, plus the smear of oil on his chin from his abandoned lunch, he accompanied me on the track of Birdy. We found him in what must have been his bedroom once. He said he had come to collect clothing - fair enough, and a few desultory choices of tunics were made as he rummaged. He was looking for something else, though.
"My wife is in labour. I had a message that the baby is taking a long time. She is restless, and her women think she might be more comfortable with her own bedding..."