‘That’d be marvellous,’ I said. ‘It’s just an idea so far, but we thought that while we’re in the area we’d check out the possibilities.’
‘Very wise. Very wise. I’ll see you get them before you leave.’ He settled back in his chair. ‘So. You’re enjoying your time in Ostia?’
‘Very much so. Like you say, it’s a lot more pleasant here than in Rome this time of year.’
‘A shame that the circumstances of your visit aren’t … well, a little more conducive to enjoyment. Or so I’d assume from our brief meeting yesterday at poor Correllius’s house.’
Uh-huh; well, he’d brought the subject up himself. Almost certainly deliberately: now that I’d shown, as far as he was concerned, my bona fides I was about to be squeezed dry. Which was absolutely fine with me, because it gave me the latitude to do a little gentle return squeezing on my own account.
‘My wife was just saying the same,’ I said.
‘He was stabbed, I understand. After he had died a natural death, of course.’
I’d’ve very much liked to ask the guy how exactly he’d come by that little nugget of information, because the answer would’ve been interesting, but I was playing careful here. Careful, garrulous, and dumb. Besides, I could make an educated guess.
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘My adopted daughter found the body. And my son-in-law examined it. He’s the local doctor at Castrimoenium, up in the Alban Hills, and they were through on a visit. Not the sort of thing you’d expect to happen when you’re on holiday, is it?’
‘No, indeed. Strange business. Strange.’ Fundanius was frowning. ‘And you’re investigating? Off your own bat, I mean, not at the request of the authorities or of Correllius’s family?’ I said nothing. ‘Why would that be, now?’
I shrugged. ‘Simple curiosity. Like I said, my daughter and son-in-law were there at the time.’
His interest sharpened. ‘At the actual time of the stabbing? They witnessed it?’
‘No. But they didn’t miss it by much. At least, that’s how it appears.’
‘Have you any idea who the perpetrator was?’
‘The chances are that it was a man by the name of Pullius.’ Not a flicker, and I was watching for it. ‘Certainly he’d arranged to meet Correllius in front of the Pollio Library. And he seems to have disappeared without a trace. We have a description, of course, but-’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes. A lady’s maid saw the whole thing, although she didn’t realize at the time there was something funny going on.’
‘What were the man’s reasons? Do you know?’ Casual; too casual. I could hear the note of underlying interest in his voice.
‘Not so far,’ I said. Then, casually in my turn: ‘Might you have any idea yourself? I mean, you knew Correllius, as a business associate at least. You may even have come across this Pullius, if the business angle was legitimate.’
He was shaking his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I told you, I can’t be of any assistance whatsoever in that area, unfortunately. And although Marcus Correllius and I did have some dealings together I’d call us friendly rivals rather than associates as such; I certainly wouldn’t have any inside information as to his business affairs. As for your Pullius, I’ve never heard of the man. If he is involved in business of any kind, then I can assure you he transacts none of it here in Ostia.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘My theory is that he’s either from well out of town or more probably the name is false and the business meeting was just an excuse to set Correllius up. Who’d want to do a thing like that, do you imagine? Anyone spring to mind?’
‘No one I can think of offhand, certainly.’ His tone was bland. ‘He had his enemies, business rivals, rather, as do I and all of us, yes, of course he did. None of them would go to that extreme. But where Pullius himself is concerned surely you’ve already asked Publius Doccius if he can shed any light? After all, he is – was, now, I suppose – poor Correllius’s right-hand man. He would be the natural person to ask.’
‘I did. Doccius had never heard of him. Nor had Mamilia, for that matter.’ I paused, then added, casually again: ‘She was closely involved with her husband’s business, wasn’t she? At least, that was the impression I got.’
‘Did you, indeed? I can’t imagine how. Naturally, as I say, I have only an outsider’s knowledge of Correllius’s affairs, but I think it’s most unlikely.’ He was frowning again, and his fingers – maybe unconsciously – were tapping the table in front of him. For all the smooth exterior, the guy was perceptibly rattled. ‘Mamilia has many excellent qualities, but she is a woman, after all. I doubt that she has much of a head for business, or very much interest in it.’
‘Yes, well, maybe you’re right.’ I’d got what I wanted, and there was no sense in pushing things past the point of safety. Time to back off; seriously back off. ‘I was probably mistaken. My wife Perilla’s the same. Lovely lady, but a head full of fluff.’
He laughed. ‘Best arrangement, I always think,’ he said. ‘My own was no different.’
Uh-huh; was, eh? Interesting, in view of the Mamilia side of things. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You’re a widower?’
‘Divorced, thank goodness. As of eighteen months ago. It was very civilized, and quite amicable. If you’re from Rome, you’ll readily understand that these things happen.’
So; as far as the feasibility of the in-it-together theory went we could tick another box, couldn’t we? ‘Yes. Yes, I do,’ I said. ‘Best thing for all concerned, sometimes. I’m all in favour of a civilized parting of the ways myself.’ I paused, to take the weight off the next question. ‘So. If not property then what sort of business are you in? If you don’t mind my asking?’
‘This and that,’ he said. Blandly, again. ‘Like Correllius, a lot of my dealings involve the import and export trade. Which explains the friendly rivalry. And you?’
Evidently, that was all I was going to get. Which wasn’t too unexpected.
‘I’ve no head for business, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘Hardly a better one than my wife, to be honest. I’m a bit of a dilettante, really. Some property here and there, in Rome and elsewhere, that I inherited from my grandfather. The income keeps the wolf from the door, so I’m not complaining.’
All perfectly true; he smiled slightly, and rather contemptuously. Which was absolutely fine by me. If he’d marked me down as a lightweight upper-class bubble-brain with more money than sense then I’d created the impression I wanted to create.
‘So,’ he said. ‘How long are you planning on staying in Ostia? On this occasion, at least.’
‘Oh, we’re quite open on that,’ I said. ‘Me, just as long as it takes to do everything I want to do. Or maybe, which is more likely, until I’m satisfied the investigation’s going nowhere or I get bored with it. On the other hand, Perilla’s really enjoying the break, and there’s the villa-hunting aspect of things now to think about. We’re in no particular hurry, and it’s just nice to get out of Rome for a change. Any excuse, right?’
‘Quite. Quite.’ He was completely relaxed now, and his tone of voice was just a polite smidgeon away from the outright contemptuous. ‘It’s always best not to let these things take too firm a grip and become obsessions. And if you’re not acting for a third party or have a genuine vested interest, then there isn’t really much point, is there? So what comes next?’
‘In the investigation, you mean? Actually, I haven’t really thought about that. I’ll probably just bumble around like I usually do, asking stupid questions and not listening to the answers.’
He nodded benignly: impression of bubble-headedness confirmed. ‘Then I wish you luck,’ he said. ‘It’s a strange business, as I said, but ultimately perhaps under the circumstances it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie. After all, what does it really matter? Poor Correllius is dead, and despite the curious business of the stabbing, from natural causes. It’s none of my concern, of course, but I really do think it’d be best just to draw a line.’