‘Yes. Our previous supplier was a man named Titus Vibius. He produced good stuff, popular with the customers, and he was reasonably priced and reliable. A year ago when the contract came up for renewal Gaius decided to award it to Festus instead. Oh, I’ve nothing against Festus. He’s a good man and a fine potter. But he isn’t in Vibius’s league.’
I was beginning to get the picture here. ‘On the other hand, he’s got a good-looking and compliant wife. Or a daughter, maybe.’
Poetelius nodded. He was not looking happy. ‘Wife,’ he said.
‘Would that be Marcia or Hermia?’
His eyes widened. ‘Who told you?’
‘Annia. I said, paclass="underline" there’s no need to be coy. The lady knows already.’
‘Marcia, then.’ He hesitated. ‘And Hermia is the wife of Titus Vecilius.’
‘Who has a workshop in the same street?’
‘Yes. He’s even more recent, within the last couple of months. Although to be fair he’s at least as good as the man we used before, if not better.’
Uh-huh. ‘Do the husbands know?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m absolutely sure they do.’
‘How so?’
Poetelius hesitated again, for longer this time. Finally he said:
‘Because they both came here, separately, four days ago, out for Gaius’s blood. Fortunately he wasn’t in the office, or the situation would’ve been even more unpleasant than it was. I told them I’d pass on the message, which I did.’
‘Four days ago? The day before the murder?’
‘Yes. Mid-morning in Festus’s case. Vecilius an hour or so later.’
Jupiter! ‘Both of them? The same day?’
‘That’s right.’
‘They say how they knew? That Tullius was carrying on with their wives, I mean?’
‘No. And I didn’t ask. My main concern was to get them calmed down and out of my life. I didn’t go into the matter with Gaius, either, when he turned up.’
Yeah, well; it looked like we had two prime suspects at least with motive in plenty for zeroing the guy. A visit to Trigemina Gate Street was definitely a priority. But, gods alive! Two angry cuckolded husbands in the one day! Either the bastard had been really, really unlucky or someone was out to get him.
Which reminded me.
‘Uh … By the way,’ I said, ‘Annia said that Tullius mentioned an accident he’d had six days ago in Ostia. He tell you anything about that at all?’
Poetelius’s face clouded. ‘No. Gaius was in Ostia that day, certainly, supervising the loading of a crate of glassware. But he never mentioned any sort of accident. Not to me, anyway.’
Odd. Still, we could think about the ins and outs of that one later. I told him what the lady had said.
‘It should be easy enough to check,’ he said when I’d finished. ‘Just give me a moment.’ He reached over to the records cubby on his left and pulled out one of the thin beechwood sheets. ‘Here we are. The glassware was being loaded into the Circe, berthed at Quay Twenty-five A. If there was an accident involving a crane nearby, the quay-master would know. They’re pretty strict about that sort of thing at Ostia, for obvious reasons.’
‘Fair enough.’ I stood up. ‘Oh, maybe one more thing, just for completeness’ sake. You mentioned a guy named Vibius.’
‘Titus Vibius. Yes.’
‘You happen to have an address for him?’
Poetelius frowned. ‘Of course. But why would you want to talk to Vibius? Like I said, he isn’t one of our suppliers any longer.’
I shrugged. ‘Call it dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s, pal. I told you, I’m only at the gathering-information stage here.’
‘Very well. His yard’s opposite the Emporium, facing the end of the Aemilian Porch.’
Same part of town, in other words, further along Trigemina Gate Street, beyond where it turned away from the river. Interesting. Maybe I’d drop in on Vibius while I was at it. Tomorrow looked like being a busy day.
‘What about Tullius’s brother-in-law?’ If I was going to be thorough, I might as well go the whole hog. And I hadn’t missed how quickly the guy had clammed up when I’d walked in on him and Annia earlier that morning.
‘Quintus? He lives somewhere on the Esquiline, I think. I don’t know where exactly, but Annia would be able to tell you. He and Gaius haven’t had anything to do with each other for years, certainly not in the line of business. I don’t think I’ve seen him since the wedding.’
‘Isn’t that a bit surprising? I mean, Annia said that your fathers – yours, hers, and Tullius’s – were good friends and that you’d known each other since you were children. If he’s in business himself then I’d’ve thought-’
‘Gaius and Quintus never liked each other even as children, Corvinus. And when Annia’ – he hesitated – ‘chose to marry Gaius he broke off all connection with him. Not that I was all that sorry myself. Gaius had his faults, certainly, but I’m afraid I had about as little time for Quintus as he did. He was a smug, self-opinionated prig as a child and he’s carried these qualities into adulthood.’
Happy families, indeed, both in the immediate and the extended form. Well, as the guy had said, if necessary I could check on his address with Annia. I said my goodbyes, and went home.
FOUR
There was a definite tang of woodsmoke in the air of our street when I got back, plus a faint smell of roasting meat overlaid with a touch of incense and perfume. I glanced in passing at the Petillius wall, from the garden behind which rose a thin spiral of smoke.
Bathyllus opened the front door as usual as soon as I’d got my foot on the first step.
‘Hi, little guy,’ I said, taking the obligatory wine-cup. ‘What’s going on next door?’
‘That’ll be the funeral, sir. Or the tail end of it, rather.’
I goggled. ‘The what?’
‘The funeral. Admetus’s, sir.’ No one can look and sound as bland as Bathyllus when he wants to. ‘It was held a few hours ago.’
Jupiter! I took my wine through to the atrium. No sign of Clarus and Marilla yet – they were obviously making a day of it – but Perilla was lying on the couch with her usual book. I kissed her, went over to the couch opposite, and lay down.
‘What’s this about a funeral?’ I said.
‘Bathyllus told you, then?’ She laid the book aside. ‘Oh, yes. Properly conducted and complete with flute player. I watched it from upstairs. It was quite impressive, really, particularly the eulogy.’
Gods, this was surreal! ‘Couldn’t they just have dug a hole in the garden for the brute and planted a rose tree on top? I mean-’
‘I suspect it was done for our benefit, dear, to make us feel guilty. And of course because the body cremated was a cat’s, the usual rules about funerals having to be held outside the city limits don’t apply. What on earth prompted you to pick him up in the first place? It was simply asking for trouble.’
‘Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be nailed by the male equivalent of an avenging Fury two seconds later, did I?’ I took a morose swallow of the wine.
‘How did he die, do you know?’
‘No idea. Probably ran under a passing cart when he was out last night killing mice or screwing the local queens. You make contact at all? With next door, that is?’
‘I tried. Their major-domo slammed the door in my face before I could get a word out.’
Ah. Well, I hadn’t really expected anything else. We’d just have to wait this one out and hope that hell froze over soon.
‘So. How was your day?’ she said. ‘Did you talk to Annia?’
‘Sure.’ I gave her the basic rundown. ‘The case looks open and shut, easy-peasy. The only real question is which of the outraged husbands did it.’
‘You believe that?’
‘There’re a couple of curious points. But on the whole it’s the most likely explanation, yeah.’
‘What sort of curious points?’
‘The question of why the guy went anywhere near Trigemina Gate Street only a day after both of his lady friends’ better halves had threatened to rip his head off, for a start, particularly on a public holiday when there was no need, business-wise. That was just asking for trouble. Me, I’d’ve kept well clear. Probably permanently.’