I looked. There was only one possible candidate, a middle-aged guy in a sharp tunic and hairstyle years too young for him. His back was against the shrine, his arms were folded, and he was smiling with the relaxed air of someone just out to enjoy the show.
Which was just about over. Manlius had delivered his last pompous phrase and was rolling up the text of his speech and nodding to the slaves carrying the death-couch; at least, most of them were slaves, but I noticed that one of them was Anthus, in his new freedman’s cap. So they’d let him carry his master on his last journey. I was pleased about that.
The flute and cymbal players struck up again and the cortège moved off, followed by the dignitaries and whoever was going on to attend the final burning outside the town limits. Quite a few of these last, it seemed, and a fair number of them were ordinary punters: despite the circumstances, Caesius must still be popular. There again, in these small country towns you have to take what amusement you can get, and maybe even a funeral wasn’t to be sneezed at. I said goodbye and thanks to my barber pal and tagged along, glancing over my shoulder to see who else was coming.
Surprisingly — at least, it was a surprise to me — it included the nephew, who’d slipped in at the tail-end of the crowd. An even bigger surprise was that walking beside him was the brothel owner, Opilia Andromeda.
Interesting.
We went through the town, back the way the procession had come, past Caesius’s house and out of the Arician Gate, where the tombs started. A few hundred yards on, there was a big funeral pyre covered again with branches of pine and cypress, next to what was presumably the family pile. The bearers manoeuvred the death-couch on to the top of the pyre and stepped back while one of the undertakers’ men handed Manlius, as chief mourner, the lighted torch. He pushed it into the oil-soaked wood, the flames leapt up and smoke billowed, caught by a freshening breeze and shrouding the corpse.
Once the fire had properly taken hold a fairly large chunk of the crowd began to drift off back in the direction of town, leaving a hard core mostly consisting of mantle-wearers. Me, I stuck around too: this is the point in the proceedings for socialising, while the corpse is burned and the chief mourners plus the undertakers’ men wait for the fire to die down so that they can cool the ashes with wine and collect the bones for burial. I looked for the lawyer, Publius Novius — after all, I’d have to talk to him before too long — but I couldn’t see him. That was understandable, sure: the day was turning cold, no weather for an old man to be out for long in, and he’d probably have packed it in as soon as it was decent. Nevertheless, most of the senators were still around, chatting in groups; I got a nod from Silius Nerva, although he didn’t come over. Also hanging on for the final rites — surprisingly, I thought, all things considered — was the nephew Mettius. Not Andromeda, though, who I’d noticed slipping away practically as soon as the pyre was lit — out of tact, probably, since the odds were that the high-profile mourners included some of her regular customers. But there again, maybe I was doing her an injustice. She’d come to the burning, after all, and she was a busy lady with a business to run.
Mettius was standing on his own, looking at the flames and obviously lost in his own thoughts. I drifted across to him, and he glanced up when he saw me coming. He did a double-take, and his eyes widened slightly.
I might’ve been wrong, but I had the distinct impression that the guy was steeling himself.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m-’
‘Marcus Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Yes, I know who you are. You’re down here from Rome, and you’re investigating the old man’s death, right?’
Old man. Not my uncle. Well, it made sense, I suppose, given the background and the fact that they’d had no contact for over ten years. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Although there’s no actual connection between the two. So how did you know, exactly?’
He shrugged; an elegant lifting of the shoulders. Ageing lad-about-town was right: the guy might dress and be barbered like a twenty-year-old dandy, but he was at least thirty-five, probably closer to forty, and he looked ten years older; it’s not the mileage that gets you, sometimes, it’s the booze, and I reckoned Mettius had sunk his fair share over the years. Not that I’m one to talk, of course.
‘Andromeda told me,’ he said.
‘Right. Right.’ I nodded. ‘I noticed you were together. You, uh, know her well?’
‘That all depends on what you mean. We’re on familiar terms, yes, of course we are, as no doubt you’ll’ve guessed from the fact that we came out here in one another’s company.’ His eyes were challenging. ‘Knowing her well, however — in the sense in which I suspect you used the word — is something else entirely. I’m not married, Corvinus, but like a lot of other men in this town, married and single, I enjoy sex for its own sake and am willing to pay for it, so I’m a customer of hers. The big difference between me and a large number of her other regular clients is that I’m not ashamed to admit it.’
‘Fair enough,’ I said easily. ‘I’ve no problem with that.’ I glanced round at the pyre, still blazing away: the undertakers’ men were pouring on perfume and adding dried, sweet herbs, to mask the smell of cooking meat: Caesius would be almost gone now. ‘You didn’t get on with your uncle, so I’m told.’
‘You were told right.’ His mouth twisted. ‘But that’s putting it far too mildly. I hated the bastard’s guts.’ I blinked; not something you expect to hear, under these circumstances, with the man himself turning to ash just a few feet away. ‘So. Surprised that I’m here, are you?’
‘A bit, yeah.’
‘Don’t be. The reason’s quite simple. I wanted to see him burn.’
There was no anger in the tone, and that made the words more chilling. ‘And why would that be, now?’ I said neutrally.
‘It’s no secret. And if you don’t know already, which I doubt, some public-spirited citizen’ll be delighted to tell you eventually, so I’m getting in first. You know I was relegated? For theft?’
‘Yeah. I knew that.’
‘Caesius fixed that. Him and his lawyer friend Novius. They set me up.’
‘Set you up? Why would they want to do that?’
He gave me a long, appraising look, then smiled and shook his head. ‘Oh, no, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘No, that’s my business, and the details don’t matter. All I’m telling you is that I was innocent, just so you know. Ten fucking years!’ He glanced around at the chatting groups. ‘Mind you, missing out on the company of this po-faced crowd was no hardship, so maybe I shouldn’t complain too much. Bloody holier-than-thou hypocrites, the lot of them.’ He hadn’t lowered his voice, and I noticed a few sharply turned heads and disapproving frowns. Mettius had noticed them, too; he grinned, carefully raised his middle finger in the direction of the nearest ones, and held it there.
‘Screw you,’ he said sweetly, loudly and distinctly. The heads swung back. ‘So.’ He turned to face me again, still grinning. ‘I wish you luck. You carry on digging, with my full blessing. The more dirt you find, the better. And believe me, dirt there will be. Well …’ He glanced at the pyre; the centre had collapsed now, and there was no sign of the corpse. ‘Fun’s over, and I’d best be getting on. Things to do, places to go. I’m pleased to have met you, Corvinus. Look after yourself, and a happy Winter Festival when it comes. I’ll see you around, OK?’
And with that he walked off towards the main drag, leaving me staring. I was still looking at his disappearing back when Silius Nerva came over: he’d been, I’d noticed, one of the punters Mettius had given the finger to.
‘I’m sorry about that, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Really sorry. The man’s a complete disgrace, and foul-mouthed into the bargain. From a good, respectable family, too; his father would’ve been ashamed. Why he came back to Bovillae after his period of relegation expired I simply don’t know. Never mind.’ He clapped me on the shoulder. ‘Thank you for coming today; it’s appreciated. Now. Come and meet our aedile, Marcus Manlius. I was just telling him about you, that you’re looking after things for us, and he’d like to thank you personally.’