The walk from the Laurentian Gate took me up the Hinge and through Market Square, passing Vinnia’s wineshop on the way. I’d got pretty much all I needed to know in that direction from old Cispius, sure, and it’d been a red herring in the end, at that, but the wine had been good – like I said, you didn’t see Veian all that often – and a quick stopover while I was in the neighbourhood wouldn’t do any harm.
I opened the door and went in. No Vinnia this time, just a big guy his late forties with short-cropped hair greying at the temples, sweeping the floor with a broom.
He leaned the broom against the wall and went behind the counter.
‘Yes, sir, what can I get you?’ he said. His eyes flicked to the stripe on my tunic, and I saw them narrow.
Uh-huh. Interesting; very interesting. And I could see the family resemblance; he and his sister were alike as two peas. If she’d been built like a carthorse and had muscles like ship’s hawsers.
‘A cup of your Veian would be fine, pal,’ I said easily, going over to the counter and taking a few coins from my belt-pouch.
He reached for a cup, hefted the wine flask, and poured in silence. I laid the coins down.
‘No Vinnia today?’ I said.
‘No.’ Nothing else, just that; chattiness clearly ran in the family. His eyes were still fixed on the purple stripe.
I picked up the cup and sipped.
‘You’ll be her brother, right?’ I said.
‘Gaius Vinnius. Yeah.’ He turned round and replaced the flask in its rack. Obviously I was being left to make the running here.
‘I heard you were in Germany,’ I said. ‘Serving with the Second Augusta.’
‘That’s right.’ He turned back. This time the eyes looked straight at me, challenging. ‘I was. Centurion in the Third Cohort. Got my discharge a couple of months ago.’
‘Back here for good?’
‘No. I’ve a family over there, in Belgica; Augusta Rauricorum. Wife and two kids, German girl; we got married properly after I was discharged. I’m just back on a visit.’
‘A long way to come just for a visit, isn’t it?’ I took another sip of my wine.
He shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen my sister for over twenty years. This was the only chance I’d get. Besides, I’m taking her back out with me when I go. We’ve got the room, and there’s nothing to keep her here.’
‘True,’ I said. I was still holding the cup. ‘Particularly when the guy responsible for killing her husband is dead.’
Our eyes locked, and for a moment I thought he’d go for me. I’d kept my voice neutral, and my other hand was resting in full sight on the counter top. Then he dropped his gaze, shrugged again, reached for a cloth, and began drying the already-dry wine-cups.
‘Vinnia told me there’d been a purple-striper from Rome in asking questions,’ he said.
‘Yeah, that’s me. So. You were the one who stabbed him, right?’
‘I’ve no regrets. The bastard deserved to die. Manutius wasn’t much, but he was Vinnia’s husband and my brother-in-law. It was a matter of honour, someone in the family had to do it, and there was only me. Once I was free of the legion I had my chance. I’d’ve had that bastard Doccius as well if he’d given me the opportunity, but I’ll settle for the man who gave the order.’
‘You know Correllius was dead before you stuck the knife in?’
The dishcloth paused, and his eyes came up.
‘What?’
‘Sure. Dead as mutton. Natural causes, my son-in-law said, and he’s a doctor, so he should know.’
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘No, I didn’t know that.’
He was telling the truth, that was plain enough. No one was that good an actor, particularly an ex-legionary centurion.
I took another mouthful of wine and set the cup down. ‘So,’ I said. ‘If you think you’re a murderer you can think again.’
‘Gods!’ He reached behind him, picked up a wine flask at random, poured some into an empty cup, and downed it in a oner. ‘Gods!’
‘You want to tell me exactly what happened?’ I said gently. ‘Purely for the record.’
He refilled the cup and replaced the flask.
‘How much do you know?’ he said.
‘That you pretended to be a businessman by the name of Marcus Pullius. That you arranged to meet Correllius outside the Pollio Library in Rome. And that you stuck a knife into him while he was sitting on one of the benches then disappeared off the map. That’s about the sum of it.’
‘I thought he was asleep.’
‘Uh-uh. I said: he was dead as a doornail. So what’s the full story? From the beginning.’
‘From the beginning?’ He took another swallow of wine. ‘Like I say, killing Correllius was the point of the visit, the first chance I’d had to out the bastard since Manutius died ten years back, and I wasn’t going to bungle it. I’d written to Vinnia telling her I was coming, sure, but no one else knew, and I’d told her to keep her mouth shut. She wasn’t even to mention I’d left the legion.’ He drained his cup, then refilled it from the flask of Veian and topped mine up at the same time. ‘We didn’t meet, either. All the arrangements’d already been made by letter, and although I’d never been to Ostia in my life – never been outside Gaul and Germany, for that matter – we thought it’d be safer. Besides, we look pretty much alike, her and me. Enough to be taken for brother and sister, anyway.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah, you are. I spotted that straight off.’
He grunted. ‘So. I kept well clear of this place, took a room in town under the name of Marcus Pullius, and had a message delivered to Correllius. To Correllius, personally; that was important. I’d a good mate in the legion, came up the ranks with me; he’s in line for First Spear now. He was originally from Massilia, tough background, grew up round the docks. He knew the set-up there where the shady side of things was concerned, and he clued me in, gave me a few names to drop. People and places. I was betting Correllius’d never been to Massilia himself, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I did my homework before I came.’ His lips twisted. ‘Well enough to pass on short acquaintance, anyway.’
‘Doccius didn’t know anything about this? Or Mamilia?’
He frowned. ‘Who’s Mamilia?’
‘Correllius’s wife.’
‘Nah, not a thing. I told you, I sent the message to the bastard personally. I needed to keep things simple, and the fewer people on his side who knew the better.’
‘So.’ I sipped my wine. ‘What was the message?’
‘I told him I represented one of the local Massilian organizations in the same line of business as he was. Not the legit side of things, naturally. Gave him a name that I knew he’d recognize; it was real enough, thanks to my pal, and the guy it belonged to had serious clout. The idea was, I said, that the two of them would set up a working partnership, the Ostian side and the Massilian. One hand washes the other, you know what I mean?’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘Only I said it was strictly hush-hush at present. My boss didn’t want anyone else knowing about it until it was a done deal. So it would just be me as the rep and him, settled on a handshake, details to follow after I’d reported back. That was the reason for choosing Rome for the meeting, as well. Neutral ground, anonymous as we could make it.’
‘Why the Pollio?’
He shrugged. ‘Vinnia’d suggested it in her last letter. Me, I didn’t know Rome from Sardis, but she said she’d overheard a couple of customers talking about it as a good place to meet in the middle of the city. Not that I ever intended to kill the bastard there, it was too public: I travelled up from Ostia a couple of days beforehand and found a room to rent in a tenement building not far away, near the Circus. The plan was that once we’d made contact I’d take him there for the confab and do the job at my leisure.’
Yeah, I could see all this working. And Correllius would’ve jumped at it; the guy had been running his own organization for years, and I would guess that, suspecting he was being edged out, he’d grabbed the chance of putting one over on Doccius, and probably Mamilia, by cutting a prime deal off his own bat. This Gaius Vinnius was no fool. Mind you, if he’d got to be a centurion in a crack legion then he wouldn’t be.