‘Yeah.’ I took a contemplative swallow of my Falernian. ‘Yeah, that’ll just about do it.’ Gods, it would at that, and with knobs on! I’d seen the trouble messing with Jewish sensibilities caused myself, at first hand, a couple of years before when we were in Alex. That time we’d been lucky to get out of the place in advance of the rioting, but it had been a close thing, and matters had got a whole lot worse before they were finally settled. If an uneasy truce with Jew and Greek still at daggers drawn can be called settlement. And sure, Alexandria might be the second biggest city in the empire, but it wasn’t the only one with a major Jewish population, not by a long chalk. Just the thought that what had happened there could happen on a much wider scale sent a chill down my spine.
If I was looking for a reason for Arrecinus Clemens to be involved in all this, I didn’t have to look any further. Lentulus’s mention of Capito — and it had been deliberate, I was certain of that — was interesting as well.
‘Good. I’m glad. Always pleased to help, so long as you don’t quote me.’ Lentulus had been reaching for another chicken leg — where the guy put it all, big as he was, I didn’t know — and he hesitated. ‘By the by, Marcus. One name you didn’t mention. Fella called Vinicianus. Annius Vinicianus.’
I gave him a sharp look. ‘What about him?’
‘What about who?’
‘Ah … Annius Vinicianus?’
‘Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all. Forget I said it, I was rambling.’ He picked up the chicken leg. ‘Must be going senile. Now, if that’s the morning’s business over to your satisfaction, we can move on to more important matters. Like the new wine my supplier’s trying to foist off on me.’
‘Yeah? Where’s it from?’
‘Place over in Belgic Gaul by the name of Durocortorum. Fizzy stuff, comes in small flasks with the bung tied down. Now don’t look at me like that, boy, he says it has a future, although of course he’s bloody selling the stuff, so he would, wouldn’t he? Probably just a passing fad, but I’d be glad to hear your opinion.’
‘Ah … fizzy?’
‘Full of little bubbles. Jupiter knows how they get them in or why they bother, but there you are. Desmus likes to see how far he can shoot the bung when he opens one of the bastards, don’t you, Desmus? His record so far’s fifteen feet. Ah, well, simple pleasures. Get the rest of that Falernian down you and we’ll give it a go.’
Annius Vinicianus, eh?
Senile, nothing; I was being told.
TWENTY-FIVE
I hadn’t been expecting Perilla back much shy of dinner time, but she breezed in only about an hour after I did. In a much better mood than I thought she’d be, too.
‘You find what you were after, then, lady?’ I said when she came back down from getting changed.
‘Yes, thank you, Marcus.’ She put her cheek down to be kissed. ‘I thought I’d try Fabatus’s. You remember? That new shop in the Saepta, the one that Naevia Postuma mentioned when she was here the first time and Calventia Quietina recommended to me.’
‘Uh … yeah. Right.’ I didn’t remember any such thing, but sometimes it’s safer not to make admissions like that. ‘That’s nice.’
‘Off the peg, of course, but then I didn’t have much option, did I?’ This time I said nothing: there’d been a definite trace of frost there. ‘And it is rather nice. It’ll go very well with the over-mantle I got before we went to Clarus and Marilla’s.’
‘The one young Marcus sicked up on?’
She frowned. ‘Oh, damn, so he did. Not that one, then. Never mind, I’ll find something else.’ Bathyllus was hovering. ‘A hot mint and lemon balm with honey, please, Bathyllus. It is not pleasant out there.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ I handed him the empty jug. ‘Bring me a top-up too, will you, little guy?’
‘Certainly, sir, with the greatest of pleasure. Madam.’
He bowed and bustled out. I watched him go, grinning: he’d been like this, oozing smarm, ever since the imperial dinner invitation had hit the mat. Sometimes the little guy was so transparent that it was embarrassing.
‘I thought you were staying at home this morning.’ Perilla settled down on the couch opposite.
‘Hmm? No, I changed my mind. I decided I’d go round to old Cornelius Lentulus’s.’
‘Really? Why would you want to …?’ She stopped. ‘It had something to do with the case, didn’t it?’
‘Ah …’
‘Marcus, I told you! Never mind what Postuma said, leave things alone! You did your best where Naevius Surdinus was concerned, and as far as the conspiracy side of things goes, if Felix and Gaius are happy that it’s dead, that’s the end of it.’ She paused. ‘And if it isn’t then it’s no business of yours.’
‘Even if come the Palatine Games, Gaius gets himself chopped?’
She looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, I don’t actually wish the poor man harm, but …’
Wish him harm! Jupiter! ‘Look, lady, we’re talking about the possibility of treason and the assassination of a serving emperor here. In under ten days’ time.’
‘True. Perhaps, anyway. If you believe in Postuma’s conversations with Alexander the Great, that is.’ The barest sniff: one of Nature’s militant realists, our Perilla.
‘Yes. Granted. Even so, it could well happen. You want to have Gaius’s death and a coup d’état on your conscience? Because I don’t.’
She was quiet for a long time. Then she said: ‘So what did you talk to Lentulus about?’
Hey! This was better! ‘I thought he might be able to fill me in on some of the best prospects. Which he did.’
‘Namely?’
I told her. ‘It looks promising for Asiaticus, at least in circumstantial terms. The guy’s good, so good he has even Lentulus in two minds. And Cornelius Lentulus is sharp.’
‘How do you mean, good?’
‘On the face of it, he’s a simple political dropout. No interest in politics, doesn’t even bother to turn up at meetings of the senate, let alone get involved in the committee network. Plus the fact that he’s the adulterer’s ideal of a cuckolded husband.’
‘That’s hardly fair, Marcus. After all, if Gaius took a shine to his wife, seduced her and then chose to drop her, what could he do about it, practically speaking? It was one of the dangers of the circles he moves in. She was the emperor’s one-time sister-in-law, after all.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe. But the result is that now he’s survived at least two, maybe three conspiracies that he may well have been mixed up in, where he was close to the principals concerned, just because Gaius can’t take him seriously. If he isn’t genuine then that takes some managing.’
‘Perhaps he is.’
‘Perilla, there is no way. Certainly not this time. He had to be the one who set me up for that mugging on the Janiculan, for a start, because for one reason or another his pals at that dodgy confab in Longinus’s villa are out of it. Which means he’s involved in this thing up to his eyeballs, maybe even at the centre. And like I say his cover’s perfect. What better position for a mover and shaker to be in than as the target’s prime buffoon? No, Asiaticus is our man, all right. One of them, anyway.’
Bathyllus came in with the drinks, refilling my cup from the new half-jug. Perilla took her steaming honey-herb abomination and sipped.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘What about the other two? The ones Capito named, Clemens and the freedman secretary?’
‘Yeah, now they’re interesting.’ I swallowed some of my own wine. ‘Asiaticus has a personal axe to grind, sure, regarding his wife, but as far as I can see, Clemens and Callistus don’t, quite the reverse, because it’s thanks to Gaius that they’re both at the top of their respective trees. If they want him gone — which they may well do — it’s out of pure altruism.’
‘Don’t sneer, Marcus, it does happen sometimes. From what you told me, Julius Graecinus had no personal axe to grind either.’