‘It’s possible,’ I said carefully: if I’ve learned anything these twenty-odd years it’s not to let Perilla see she’s slipped one past me.
‘I mean, how did Fundanius strike you in himself? The sort of man someone like Mamilia would go for, all being equal?’
‘He was OK, yeah.’ Better than OK, particularly when you compared him with the dead husband: near the lady’s age, good-looking, fit as a flea, and with an urbane polish about him that matched hers. Successful, too; that, I was sure, would weigh with a hard-nosed woman like Mamilia.
‘There you are, then. And the sexual element isn’t particularly necessary. You say that, as a businessman or whatever you like to call it, Correllius wasn’t held in very high regard? By his chief assistant Doccius, at least?’
‘Yeah, well, that was the impression I got. But then it may’ve been wrong.’
‘Assume that it wasn’t, which is a fair assumption under the circumstances: in his delicate physical condition Correllius couldn’t have been totally on top of things. If Mamilia was ambitious in her own right – and from your description of her I’d say that was extremely likely – then she may well have decided to cut her losses and make a more profitable alliance.’
I thought of Doccius’s changed manner when he was talking to the lady. Yeah, that would fit, too. Despite Mamilia’s claim to me that she’d no connection with the business side of her husband’s affairs I’d lay a pretty hefty bet she was involved up to her carefully plucked eyebrows. And not as a silent partner, either. I suspected that, however things had started out, latterly there’d been only one real boss of Correllius’s outfit, and that boss hadn’t been Correllius. Or even, given his behaviour vis-a-vis Mamilia, Doccius.
The theory was beginning to make sense in spades. Certainly, I’d be looking into Publius Fundanius before we were much older.
‘Well?’ Perilla finally spooned up some of the chickpeas she’d been shoving around on her plate. ‘What do you think? Viable or not?’
‘Sure it’s viable,’ I said. ‘Whether it’s right is another matter. Mind you, for it to work it’d need Doccius to be in on things off his own bat.’
‘How so?’
‘Because Correllius might be slipping his cogs where the business was concerned, but I’ll bet you anything you like his deputy was well up to speed. Mamilia might be the brains of the outfit, but she’s still a woman.’
‘Marcus, that is pure sexism!’
I grinned. ‘Agreed. But like it or not, whatever dealings the company was involved in – legit or crooked, it doesn’t matter – business is a man’s world. She’d need someone to front for her at the top level with clients and customers, and Doccius’d be too much in place already to bypass. Too smart and full of himself to con, too. Besides, it would’ve made things much easier where the Pullius angle was concerned.’
‘You think that there was an actual Pullius, then?’ Perilla took a sip of her fruit juice. ‘I mean, that he existed as an individual in his own right?’
I shrugged. ‘Not necessarily under that name. But sure, he must have done for the thing to work, because we need an actual perp who also had to be a stranger to Correllius, a complete outsider. And whatever they claim to the contrary I’d bet a flask of Caecuban against a used corn plaster that both Doccius and Mamilia know perfectly well who he was. If your conspiracy theory’s right then my guess would be that the three of them – counting Fundanius – invented the sham business meeting to get Correllius over to Rome where their specially hired hitman Pullius could safely stick his knife in. In the event, of course, that wasn’t necessary, but they weren’t to know that at the time. And it would certainly explain the cover-up now.’
‘You don’t think Doccius would have any issues with working for Fundanius? After all, he’d been the number one rival for years. There must’ve been at least a bit of bad blood, or at least distrust.’
I shook my head. ‘Uh-uh. I didn’t see much of the guy, sure, but I’d put him down as a professional to his finger-ends. Not a leader himself, but the sort who has to know that his boss is a professional too. Whatever Correllius had been in the past, he’d lost it, and he’d lost Doccius’s respect. Mamilia, on the other hand – well, Doccius clearly has a lot of respect for Mamilia, which is significant in itself. And if she decided to join forces with someone like Publius Fundanius, then I can’t see him kicking up too much of a fuss.’
‘Hmm.’ Perilla helped herself to more of the chicken; she has a good appetite, the lady, bigger than mine, and no doubt the drive from Rome and the change of air would’ve helped. ‘So. What about this wineshop business?
I pushed my own plate away. ‘Right. That was interesting enough, but whether or not it’s relevant, and if so how it fits in, I haven’t the faintest idea. The owner – Vinnia – had a five-star grudge against Correllius, that was for sure, but just having a grudge against someone isn’t enough when you’re planning a murder. Besides, he died in Rome, not Ostia, and to most Ostians at her level and of her profession the big city’s a million miles away. How would she set things up?’
‘Marcus, you don’t know for a fact that she had no connections with Rome. Ostia is only fourteen miles away, it’s a small town, and by no means everyone who was born here stays here. She may have relatives there and gone through regularly.’
‘Uh-uh. No relatives. The lady’s from Gaul originally, and Rubrius told me categorically that she’d no family in Italy at all. In any case, the theory’s too complicated. Why the hell should she make things difficult for herself when the guy only lives round the corner? Plus the fact she’s a woman, and our perp was definitely male.’
‘You know the answer to your first objection yourself, dear,’ Perilla said. ‘Security. Correllius was a powerful man in Ostia, with a large organization. Creating an opportunity to murder him here would have been difficult, to say the least; Rome would be much easier. As for your second point, yes, I agree that she can’t have stabbed the man herself, but there’s no reason why she couldn’t have had someone else do the job for her, is there?’
‘Such as who?’
‘I don’t know. How could I? Your butcher friend, perhaps. You said he was quite smitten with her.’
I laughed. ‘Rubrius? You’re joking!’
She ducked her head and smiled. ‘Actually, Marcus, yes, I am. He wouldn’t fit the maid’s description, for one thing, or I’m assuming he wouldn’t. But the principle holds good: she could have had a male accomplice.’
‘Yeah, well, whoever he was he’d have to be willing to risk putting his head into the strangler’s noose for her. Finding someone like that wouldn’t’ve come easy.’ I took a swallow of wine. ‘No, like I say it’s far too complicated. Leave it out. We’ve better fish to fry than Vinnia.’
‘Mm.’ She set the spoon down on her empty plate. ‘The way her husband died is a bit of a coincidence, though, isn’t it? I mean, as the result of an accident at the docks, assuming she’s right and that it was no accident at all. If the business with the falling amphoras in Gaius Tullius’s case wasn’t an accident either but his killer’s first attempt at murder, then-’
‘Too many ifs, Perilla.’ I refilled my cup. ‘Oh, I’ll grant you the coincidence, although on the surface both accidents could well have been just that. Ostia docks are no kids’ sandpit. There’s a lot going on there, a lot of heavy stuff being shifted around on a daily basis, and with the best will in the world accidents – even fatal ones – are bound to happen now and again. We can’t factor either of those into a proper theory until I’ve had a chance to talk to our cack-handed crane operator Siddius and Vinnia’s dead husband’s pal Cispius. If he’s still around, that is.’