The Accusers Part 7

'Shall I recite our fee scale?' Justinus pretended to joke.

'He wants us - so double the on-costs!' Aelia.n.u.s croaked. We all laughed. What a merry business informing can be.

A man entered, not what I expected as a house guest. He was a stranger, but I recognised my type of operator. He wore a brown tunic, tight on the chest, no braid. A wide belt, fit for various purposes. His boots were solid, also functional. Over his arm he carried a thick dark cloak, its hood hanging down. It looked as if the fabric had been oiled, which you would do if you were constantly out in bad weather. He was ten years older than me, shorter than average, wide, muscular, huge calves. His hair was trimmed so short its colour was indeterminate. His eyes moved restlessly around the room, taking us all in.

'This is Bratta,' introduced Paccius. 'He works for me, as a runner.' Bratta was an informer, then. My type of informer. Silius used one too, he had told me. I never saw his. 'We have a problem, Falco.'

I listened. Bratta watched me listening. His expression was faintly derisive. That could just be his normal face. Mine was no better. I must be looking suspicious of Paccius. The Camilli were quiet. I could trust them nowadays. Bratta stared at them suspiciously; I hid a smile.

'Let's hear it, Paccius: what is your scenario?' If he was using Bratta, I could not see why he needed us.

'I am accusing Metellus Negrinus of killing his father. The motive is vengeance for his omission from his father's will. The method still has to be dragged out of him.' Paccius leaned back. 'You do not appear surprised?'

'Well, I thought you would have gone for the sister next - the one who keeps aloof. An easier target.' He did not respond to the snipe. 'Do you know why the will cuts Negrinus out?'

Paccius paused only slightly. 'No.' He was lying. I wondered why. 'My problem is this: to begin proceedings we must produce Birdy before the praetor. It is vital that he attend, to agree the facts.'

'Why is that a problem?'

'We can't find him.'

'What happens if he fails to appear?' asked Aelia.n.u.s.

Paccius surveyed him indulgently. He could see I knew the reason, but he explained it patiently to my younger colleague: 'The praetor then declares him to have gone into hiding.' With these legal vultures pursuing him, hiding up seemed a reasonable course for poor Birdy. 'His estates could be sold to meet the claim, if that were appropriate. With a capital charge it does not apply.'

'A capital charge can lead to the lions. You want Birdy in the arena?' I asked.

'Don't feel sorry for him, Falco.'

'Why not? His father shamelessly used him as a medium for fixing contracts. His wife has left him when nine months pregnant. His sister was accused of killing their father - and he was cut out of the will.'

I was going to add something disparaging about his mother Calpurnia, but for all I knew, Paccius was her lover.

'So you want me to trace the man?'

Paccius nodded. 'You will be working with Bratta.' Neither Bratta nor I bothered to show how much we hated that. 'It's a real b.u.mmer, Falco. Simply getting an appointment with a praetor is a hard enough task. Negrinus has to co-operate.'

In getting himself charged? Why should he? His family had been targeted. It was a sordid game Paccius and Silius were playing; Negrinus had not agreed to join in. These vultures just marked him as their next victim.

'Tell me: why you, Paccius?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Why you as the accuser?' I repeated patiently. 'I thought the setup had Silius attacking the so-called killers. You were the faithful family adviser. You did it for the father, then you defended Juliana.'

'Obviously I am horrified that Rubiria Juliana was placed in difficulties due to the malfeasance of her brother!'

'Malfeasance, eh? I see.' I turned to Bratta. He was sitting quietly. Wondering what he thought of the case, I told him my opinion. 'My first moves would be: check with the mother, the sister he was close to, the other sister, the ex-wife, and the supposedly close best friend - Licinius Lutea.'

Bratta showed his teeth. They were a sorry set. Too much bad food munched at cheap food stalls while he was watching people and places. The usual. He was one of us all right. For the first time he spoke, in a voice less rough than his appearance had promised: 'Done it. None of them have seen him.'

'So they say!'

'So they say.'

I had been thinking. Now I stood up. 'Well, that's about the limit of what I can offer.'

Paccius looked surprised. 'Falco! You mean, you won't take. the job?'

'No thanks.' I gestured at Bratta. 'You have a perfectly competent trace-man here, who has done the groundwork. Bratta failed to find the fugitive. There's not much left for me; I would be floundering messily. I recommend you just sit tight until Birdy reappears when he gets bored. I don't have the time or the resources to potter about.'

The Camilli were ready to leave with me. Paccius looked astonished that I had turned down the fee. I thought he was about to argue, but he then shrugged. The informer Bratta gave me a nod. I decided there was grudging respect in it. Or maybe he thought me an idiot.

I stared at Paccius. 'You want to be careful. It looks as if you and Silius Italicus have shared this out between you. He had first go, now it's your turn.'

'That would be collaborating,' Paccius murmured. 'That sort of behaviour gets our trade a bad name, Falco.'

Too right it did.

We lads of Falco and a.s.sociates stood together in the street. Use of the Paccius litter had been a one-way sweetener. We were not offered transport home.

'So that's it?' asked Aelia.n.u.s. 'We are out of the case? The Metellus affair does not concern us?' He spoke warily, as if he knew there was more on my mind than I had revealed.

I gazed up at the wintry sky. A star appeared briefly through featherings of pale cloud. Then it vanished. No others replaced it and the cloud cover thickened as I looked. We would have a long, dark walk home. Still, at this time of year the street criminals liked to hibernate. Many would have stayed indoors beating up their women and children. Not that we could feel confident. Others would be on the prowl, using the darkness.

'There's no future in this case,' I said. Justinus made a small mutter of dissent. He had doubts about my motives, like his brother. I started to walk. They followed me, their steps sluggish. I heard one of them kick at a kerbstone, then yowk as he hurt his foot. They had wasted an evening. They were annoyed and dispirited.

After walking for a while, they calmed down.

'We don't have much work,' said Justinus. 'Marcus, I was sure you had decided that we would set out to find Birdy privately.'

'I thought of it.'

'But no?'

'It's winter, no money in it - and I've grown up, Quintus.'

'I was with Quintus,' his brother confessed. 'Waiting to hear you declare you would like to get to Birdy first!'

We all laughed gently.

So we marched through Rome as the winter night descended. Our steps were light and fast, keeping ahead of trouble. We stole a lantern from a portico, so wild shadows flickered around us. Ice was forming on silent fountains; there would be heavy frost by morning. At the Forum, the Camilli left me, peeling off towards the Capena Gate. I walked briskly down the Sacred Way, turned a corner after the empty Basilica, and went home to my wife.

XV.

SHE WAS waiting for me. Before I put in my latch-lifter, Helena threw open the door.

She was not waiting for me. Ignoring me, she moved back inside and stepped to one side so somebody else had a clear s.p.a.ce to walk out. I recognised him instantly. Albia followed; she was driving the man ahead of her. I raised my eyebrows. He had his hands up and he looked scared. I was scared too, for a moment. I saw that Albia was holding the tip of a large kitchen knife rather hard against his back.

The man stopped. Well, he had to. My own knife was out, and pressing on his chest.

'Better stand still.' I could afford to speak gently. We were eye to eye and he could see the menace in my mind. 'I don't allow the women of my household to be troubled by male visitors while I'm out.

Albia moved back against Helena, lowering her weapon. They clutched each other, no doubt in relief. Looking over his shoulder I could see they were not too badly frightened, more pleased with themselves. I knew who the man was. He was trouble, but not in any way I couldn't handle. Helena and Albia had dealt with him successfully even without me.

I sheathed my dagger. He took heart and spoke. 'You must help me, Falco!'

I grinned at him. 'Good boy. You know the procedure. Now you'll say, Oh Falco, I have nowhere else to turn!'

He opened his mouth obediently - well, I already knew he was easily influenced - then he stayed silent, feeling stupid. I gripped him by the shoulders, spun him around, and marched him quickly back inside.

'Metellus Negrinus, men who have gone into hiding from a praetor's enquiry should not stand too long out in the street. We informers get paid a bounty for turning in fugitives!'

XVI.

WE GAVE him food, watered wine, warmth, a wash in a hand basin. We promised him a bed, safety, a quiet night. First, he had to talk to us.

'Understand this,' I said tersely. Albia had brought us soup; she banged down his bowl in front of him, splashing the low table. I spooned mine up daintily. Our chattels were growing in style and quant.i.ty slowly, but we possessed rather fine bronze spoons, a gift to me from Helena years ago. I hoped Metellus would not steal any. You never know with corrupt aediles. Luckily no one had thought to let him have one of our fine-weave Spanish napkins; I had paid for them myself 'You are charged with murder. You have refused to answer. Tomorrow your accuser will meet with the magistrate and have you formally named as a fugitive. I have enough trouble with the authorities. Once that happens, I will not harbour you in my house.'

'You should meet the praetor, face up to it,' Helena advised him.

'I can't do that.'

Our next question should have been, why not? But there was something going on here. I was prepared to probe carefully.

Helena had already told me Negrinus rushed into the house earlier that evening, demanding to see me. He was dishevelled and dirty, also greatly agitated. She had made sure Albia stayed with her. When he decided they were lying about my whereabouts, Helena became nervous and Albia, still at heart a street child, fetched the kitchen carver.

'You need a bodyguard to tangle with my ladies. You should have brought your lictors, aedile.' Since the New Year his term as aedile had ended, but I noticed he still accepted the t.i.tle from me. Disgrace had not given him any sense of shame. 'It's never hopeless,' I urged. 'Your sister escaped the charges against her. The praetor may decide that a further prosecution is vindictive. He could throw out the charge against you.'

Negrinus looked up, his face aglow. 'Would he?'

Doubt descended. 'I said it was possible. Look, what has Paccius got on you?'

The sandy-haired man pushed away his bowl. He had hardly touched anything. Normally I reckoned he would be a determined eater; it had made him chubby fowled and too round in the stomach. He did not look as if he exercised. Now he was dejected, utterly spent mentally. I could see why people shoved him around.

We were in our winter dining room. By his standards it must be plain, but we liked the dark walls with their fine tracery of golden candelabra designs, dividing formal panels. Helena gave Albia the nod that she could disappear if she wanted to; she left, after glaring at Negrinus. Never having had a home until now, she was doubly defensive of our house. I noticed she let the dog run in; Nux experimented with a sharp woof at the stranger, then lost heart and came over to lick me. Helena quietly cleared dishes aside on the low wooden serving table. I lit more oil lamps. I wanted Negrinus to know he would be here until he came clean.

'Let's go right back. Your father was convicted of evil practices involving your duties as aedile; you were implicated but not charged. Do you have any comment?'

Negrinus sighed restlessly. He must be used to this. 'No, Falco.'

'Well, it colours how you will appear. I take it you accept that? Next comes the nonsense with your sister Juliana and the apothecary; she got off, but that too paints "murder" all over your family in the eyes of a court.'

'Paccius knows that my father did not really want to commit suicide.'

'They had discussed it after he lost at the first trial?'

'Yes.'

'Paccius is likely to say so in court then,' Helena joined in. 'An accuser with personal knowledge?- The court will believe anything he cares to say. Did Paccius directly advise your father to kill himself?' Her voice was low, belying what I knew to be strong feelings.

'Yes.'

'And what did you think?'

'I didn't want to lose Father. We were close. But I suppose I could see the arguments about not paying out all our money...' His voice faltered when he said it, however.

'If you were close, and you cared for your father - can we a.s.sume you thought he cared for you?' I asked.

'I thought so.' Negrinus spoke in the same despondent tone as when he had answered previously. 'I always thought so.'

'So why did he cut you from his will?'

A faint flush coloured the man's fine skin. Gingery types find it hard to conceal their feelings - though interpreting the signals is not always easy. 'I don't know.'

'You must have some idea.' He shook his head.

'I realise this is upsetting - but Paccius will interrogate you when you give evidence.'

He stared at me. 'You know his intentions?'

'He tried to hire me tonight - to look for you. He told me, your distress at being omitted from the will is your murder motive. It figures. Of course you're annoyed. You are the only son. This is not just about the money, Birdy. It's your social and domestic position at stake. This is about who takes over religious responsibility in your family, who honours your ancestors, who makes offerings to the family G.o.ds. You expected to take on your father's role.'

'Ha!' For once Birdy spoke up for himself. 'I was more likely to be pleased that Papa had not handed me all his debts.'

That can be a deterrent to heirs: a bequest brings the main beneficiary full responsibility for any debts left behind. Large debts can outweigh the inheritance. In those circ.u.mstances good men sigh and accept the burden. Heirs who are light in a social conscience try to refuse their bequest. That's most heirs, naturally.

'Were there many creditors?' Helena shot in quickly.

'He owed thousands.'