‘Uh, actually, no. No, strange as it may seem, that one must’ve slipped past me, lady.’
She grinned, put the note tablet inside the roll to mark her place, laid the book on the table beside her, and sat back. ‘Very well, dear. So, how did your day go? I’m all ears.’
I sat down on the other couch, cradling the cup of wine Bathyllus had given me when I’d got back. ‘We were right about Tarquitia and Hellenus,’ I said. ‘They cooked up the scam between them. Or at least Hellenus set things up originally and Tarquitia took it from there.’ I told her about the visit to the Old Villa.
‘But that’s terrible!’ she said. ‘They ought to be stopped! Isn’t there anything you can do?’
‘Uh-uh. They haven’t broken any laws, they were careful about that. As far as the original property sales were concerned, everything was done in due legal form, with Surdinus’s consent all the way down the line. The same goes for Tarquitia’s resale of the Old Villa to Surdinus Junior; she was the legal owner, and so long as he was willing to pay the asking price, she could charge what she liked. The will’s legal, too, so Hellenus gets his third of the estate and because she’s already fulfilled the marriage clause, she has the fifty thousand clear to do as she likes with.’
‘At least she’s giving that to Otillius. I feel very sorry for him, Marcus.’
‘Don’t be.’ I took a swallow of the wine. ‘The guy’s had a lucky escape, and if he is genuinely in love with her, he’ll get over it. Fifty thousand sesterces is one hell of an incentive.’
‘You think she and Hellenus will marry? Really?’
‘Yeah. I think they probably will. Oh, sure, they’re crooked as they come, both of them, but they go together like fish sauce on beans. And for all they’ve got a cold streak a mile wide, I think they’re honest by their lights. At least, they’d claim to be. In theory, Tarquitia could walk away from the guy with the whole boiling, but I don’t think she will, because she knew exactly what she wanted and she’s already got it.’ I shrugged. ‘Anyway, they’re out of it. For the foreseeable future, at least.’
‘So what about Cassius Longinus? Did you manage to see him?’
‘Yeah.’ I frowned. ‘That was strange, if you like.’
‘How so?’
‘He claimed the affair with Sullana never happened at all.’
‘Interesting. You believe him?’
‘Perilla, I don’t know. On the one hand, the lady said it did. Unprompted. Why should she invent a thing like that?’
‘Where her husband’s concerned, the answer’s obvious. Like she told you, she’d been trying to get him to divorce her for years, and he wouldn’t agree. Confessing to an affair with one of his closest friends might well do the trick, as indeed it did.’
‘Surely he’d’ve checked with the man first? Confronted him in his turn?’
‘Marcus, how could he? Longinus was in Asia at the time, and as far as anyone knew, he might be kept in office for years. Governors frequently are, and they’re forbidden to leave their provinces without formal permission from the emperor. Besides, if Surdinus’s wife confessed to him, out of the blue and unprompted, that she’d committed adultery at some time in the past, why should he disbelieve her? Particularly when their marriage had never been a happy one. Personally, if it was an invention, I think it was an extremely clever one; Sullana picked on someone who was not only a prime possibility in circumstantial terms but whom she knew wasn’t in a position to give her the lie. You’d never have known Longinus’s side of things if he hadn’t been unexpectedly recalled to Rome. And as for repeating to you the lie she told her husband, if Sullana wasn’t aware of the current situation — and there’s no reason why she should be, since his return is so recent — then the same argument applies. She could be perfectly truthful and at the same time perfectly safe from being found out.’
‘She’d’ve been found out eventually, when Longinus’s term expired and he came back to Rome, lady. By Surdinus, I mean, if he’d still been alive and believed his friend over her.’
‘Of course she would. But that wouldn’t matter, because she’d already have her divorce. My guess is that then she’d simply have told Surdinus the truth, that the whole thing was a fabrication. I mean, what could he do about it? And naturally Longinus himself would be completely off the hook.’
Yeah; fair enough. Even so …
‘Even so,’ I said, ‘the guy couldn’t wait to get rid of me. That’s after welcoming me with open arms.’
‘Are you surprised, dear? You’d just accused him in front of friends of seducing the wife of a friend and colleague, not to mention siring her first child. Don’t you think, whether the accusation was well-founded or not, he might be just a little peeved?’
‘Hang on, lady! I hadn’t actually got round to Surdinus Junior. He never let me get that far.’
‘Nonetheless.’
‘In any case, that wasn’t the really interesting part of the interview.’ I told her about the change of atmosphere when I’d said I was looking into Surdinus’s murder. ‘That was weird. There’s something going on there, I’d bet my back teeth.’
‘Who were the men? Do you remember?’
‘They were all broad-stripers. Pretty much Longinus’s age and class.’ I thought for a moment. ‘A couple of Gauls … uh, Julius Graecinus and Valerius Asiaticus. The third was a guy called Anicius Cerialis. Graecinus is a philosopher pal of Surdinus’s, that I know, although whether it’s relevant I can’t say. The other two I’ve never heard of. Any bells?’
‘I know Graecinus, at least. More than just his name, I mean: he’s a philosopher, yes, Stoic, you won’t be surprised to learn, and a good friend of Marcus Vinicius’s.’ Yeah, right: I knew Vinicius, or at least I’d met him. One of the lady’s more high-powered literary acquaintances, and despite the fact that he was the husband of the emperor’s sister Livilla, he was pretty human on the whole. ‘We’ve talked at one or two of Vinicius’s get-togethers. Charming man, very intelligent.’
‘Solid?’
‘If you’re implying, could he possibly be the kind of man who would arrange for a block of masonry to be dropped on a friend’s head, Marcus, then he certainly is no such thing. That sort of person, I mean. Absolutely not.’
I grinned. ‘OK. What about the others?’
‘I can’t help you there at all, dear; I’ve never heard of either of them. I know Longinus himself, of course — or at least I did, very slightly, before he went to Asia, again on the literary side of things, although his prime interest is jurisprudence. He’s a recognized expert, with several technical books to his credit. Rather an old-fashioned man, with old-fashioned values.’ She smiled. ‘That isn’t a criticism, by the way, far from it; he’s a practising Stoic, in the best sense of the word. Our republican ancestors would have loved him, and for the right reasons, which makes a change.’
‘So you don’t think he would’ve dropped a hunk of stone on a friend’s head either.’
‘No. Definitely not. Nor, for that matter, carried on a clandestine affair with his wife, even when invited to do so by the lady in question. I told you as much when you originally suggested it. The idea’s completely ridiculous.’
Bugger. Well, the lady had been wrong before in her assessment of character. Not all that often, mind. We’d just have to see. And there were still the other two to check up on, Asiaticus and Cerialis. I reckoned another visit to Secundus was in order.
There was a respectful knock at the door. Only one person knocks like that.
‘Yeah, Bathyllus,’ I said. ‘Come in, we’re decent.’
He did.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. Madam,’ he said. ‘But a message has just arrived. From Naevius Surdinus.’
‘Uh … that’d be Surdinus Junior, would it?’ I said. Given Naevia Postuma’s wacky spiritual interests, it was just as well to check these things.
Bathyllus gave me his best fish-eyed stare; humour is something that the little guy does not believe in. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘Of course. Naturally. He was wondering if you could drop by tomorrow. Whenever is convenient, but the morning would be best. He has something important to tell you.’