White murder marcus corv.., p.44
White Murder (Marcus Corvinus Book 7), page 44
Hell was right. The hairs on my scalp bristled.
Perilla must’ve felt the same, because she murmured: ‘Avernus. Aornos, the birdless place.’ I glanced back at her and saw her shudder. Yeah; not even vultures could live here. There wouldn’t be nothing for them to live on. ‘Horrible.’
‘It’s the old crater,’ Histrio said. ‘Three miles wide, almost a mile deep.’ He walked to the edge of the platform. ‘Come and see this.’
‘No. No, I think I’ll pass on that, pal,’ I said. ‘Whatever it is.’
‘Come on, Corvinus, don’t be a coward! I told you, it’s perfectly safe. And it’s part of the tour.’
I glanced back at Perilla – she hadn’t come any closer than the top of the brow – and edged forward. I’ve got a better head for heights than most, and it wasn’t just fear of falling; the place itself had me by the scrotum and I could feel my balls shrink. They say everywhere has a numen, a sort of inbuilt personifying spirit. If so, then Ox Valley’s was so alien it wasn’t even close to human.
When we were standing together I stopped.
‘Watch,’ Histrio said. He hefted one of the stones he’d picked up and threw it into space. It curved in an arc and dropped through the swirling clouds. I caught myself trying to follow it with my eye and waiting for the toc! as it hit the valley floor. Nothing. A mile’s a long way down.
Histrio held out a second stone. ‘Your turn,’ he said.
I took it and he moved away. I turned to face the drop – the edge was only a scant yard in front of me – and threw...
‘Marcus!’
Why I did it I don’t know, but when Perilla screamed I dropped to my knees and froze to the rock. Something hit me hard on the back, then it was over me and gone. I heard Histrio yell, just once, but in that yell was all the terror in the world.
Then there was silence; a long, empty silence.
Shit.
I picked myself up, brain numb. Somewhere someone was sobbing. Then Perilla had a hold of me and was pulling me away.
There was no sign of Histrio. But then, the guy would be long gone.
I shook my head to clear it. I was beginning to shake. ‘What the fuck happened?’ I said.
‘He rushed at you.’ Perilla’s face was pressed against my neck. ‘He just rushed at you.’
Sweet gods! I glanced back at the cliff edge. A mile. The guy would still be falling...
‘Marcus, I thought he’d pushed you over!’
Yeah. He would’ve done, too, if it hadn’t been for the lady’s scream. She has a good pair of lungs, Perilla. I closed my eyes. A mile...
If you go to Sicily, then watch your back.
Why the hell had he done it?
41.
We were lucky that the mules seemed to know their way home. Although the path back was downhill and pretty straightforward, there were a couple of places where it forked and I couldn’t remember which way we’d come. In the end I just left the beasts to it, and once we were down as far as the cultivated area there were plenty of people to ask. Even so, the sun was only just above the bulk of the mountain when we reached Crocinium.
Septimus the wineshop owner was sitting at the table under the trellised vine with his wife and kid, in the middle of their evening meal. He frowned when he saw the two riderless mules.
‘Where’s Histrio?’ he said.
I dismounted, helped Perilla down, and told him while the woman and the kid watched and listened with round eyes.
‘He tried to kill you? Histrio?’
I remembered Florus’s reaction when I’d told him about Maximus being responsible for the death of his deck-hand Avillius. The two were identical: total disbelief. Maybe coincidence, but interesting all the same.
‘There wasn’t any doubt,’ Perilla said. ‘He got Marcus standing with his back to him on the edge of the drop and then tried to push him over. I saw the whole thing and I wasn’t mistaken. It was quite deliberate.’
‘Not Histrio.’ The guy was shaking his head numbly. ‘He wouldn’t’ve done that. It doesn’t make sense. Histrio wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘Look, pal,’ I said; I wasn’t about to waste any tears on that bastard, or shed any crocodile ones either: flies might’ve been safe, but it had been open season on Roman purple-stripers, and if he’d got me then Perilla would’ve been next. ‘We’ve had a trying day. Any chance of a jug of wine and whatever’s left in the pot there?’ I glanced at Perilla. ‘How about you, lady?’
‘Wine would be much appreciated. Under the circumstances.’
Septimus blinked and got up. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll get it now.’ He moved a few steps, then turned. ‘Holy Vulcan, I’ve known the man for years! He’s up here with clients half a dozen times every summer, he’s practically one of the family! What reason could he have had?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. In fact, I was rather hoping that you could tell me.’ I eased myself down onto the bench that the three Tithonuses had been occupying the evening before. ‘Let’s have the wine first, though.’
The woman, after she’d sent the kid to deal with the mules, disappeared inside after her husband with the half-full plates. I was sorry I’d disturbed the family meal, but no doubt they’d have plenty to talk about.
Sure enough, it was a good five minutes before Septimus came back out with the wine and two cups. Maybe he’d had a belt himself in the interim, because he looked a lot more with it, and serious as hell. ‘My wife’s reheating the stew,’ he said. He sat down on the bench opposite. ‘Now. I’m sorry, sir, but you’d better tell me exactly what happened. The village is too small to have a judge’s representative, but presumably you’ll report this to the authorities in Catana and they’ll send someone up to ask questions.’
Shit; I’d forgotten about that aspect of things. Still, it was fair enough. There wasn’t much more I could do other than repeat what I’d already told him, but I did it anyway.
‘There wasn’t any sort of quarrel?’ he said. ‘Disagreement, even?’
‘Uh-uh. He just suddenly went for me. I ducked and he tripped. That was it.’
‘And you hadn’t had any dealings with him before?’
‘No.’ I took a swallow of the wine. ‘I’d never so much as met the guy. I’m in Sicily to look into a murder back in Rome. One of the people who might be involved is a ship’s captain called Maximus.’ Not a flicker. ‘He’s a Catanan himself, or he’s based there at least. Transports racehorses.’
Septimus frowned; the guy was obviously thinking. ‘Histrio has – had – a stable in Catana,’ he said.
‘Yeah, I know. That’s where we met up. I rented a horse from him.’
‘That’s not what I meant. He breeds himself, in a small way, just as a sideline. He has a stud farm outside the town on the Hybla road.’
The back of my neck prickled. ‘Is that so, now?’
‘It’s nothing major. Most of the colts go for riding horses, but he’s sold a couple of winners to the Blue faction in Leontini.’
Quite an entrepreneur, this Histrio: livery stable, tourist business, now horse breeding. Mind you, they were all connected, and these small-town types tend to have several irons in the fire at once. And things were beginning to gel. ‘He run it on his own?’ I said. ‘The stud farm, I mean?’
‘More or less. Like I say, it’s only a small business. Technically his brother’s co-owner, but he’s away a lot.’
‘Brother?’
‘I don’t know anything about him other than the name. Man called Leon.’
Everything went very still. I noticed that Perilla was staring at me wide-eyed. ‘You sure about that, pal?’ I said carefully. ‘No mistake?’
‘Could be Leontes. He’s mentioned him once or twice, no more.’ He looked up; his wife was coming from the direction of the kitchen outhouse carrying a loaded tray. ‘Catia, what was Histrio’s brother’s name?’
‘Leon.’ She set the tray down on the table. ‘He’s some sort of sailor, isn’t he? Off on one of the boats.’
Oh, sweet and holy Jupiter! The Phorcys’s mate, it had to be! There was a connection after all!
Septimus was watching me. ‘The sailor bit I’d forgotten,’ he said. ‘That make sense to you?’
‘Yeah. Some, anyway.’ It still didn’t explain why Histrio had tried to kill me, mind – even if he and his brother had happened to talk when the Phorcys had called in at Catana neither Maximus nor Leon could’ve known that I was following them – but it couldn’t be coincidence; no way could it be coincidence. Which meant that Histrio, for some reason or other, had decided on murder off his own bat.
Horses. It all came down to horses. Pegasus drove them, his brother bred them, Maximus and Leon transported them and now I found that Leon had a brother of his own who dealt in them and had done his best to push me down the crater of an ex-volcano. Planned it, too: I’d bet the whole trip had been a set-up from the start.
So what the hell was going on?
We hired one of the locals the next day to drive us in the coach back to Catana. The murder attempt had effectively lifted Perilla’s ban, so we spent the first bit of the journey chewing it over.
‘They weren’t natural killers,’ I said. ‘Neither of them. That’s what bugs me. Maximus is an antisocial bastard, but no one I’ve talked to has suggested that he was capable of murder; even Florus wouldn’t’ve accepted the idea if I hadn’t presented it as a fact. And Histrio was just a wheeler-dealer. So what pushed them over the edge?’
‘Not a very happy phrase, Marcus, in Histrio’s case.’
I tried a grin that didn’t work. ‘Black humour’s not like you, lady.’
She turned away to look out of the carriage window: we were back with the pastoral scenery again, and I for one wasn’t sorry; you don’t appreciate fields and vineyards until they’re gone. ‘Let’s be clear about this, dear,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t feel any regret or pity for that man. None at all. He deserved all he got. And I don’t agree with you about their comparative innocence, either. The only difference between Histrio and Maximus, or indeed between him and the murderer of Pegasus, is that the latter two’s murder attempts succeeded.’
‘Yeah. Right.’ Nevertheless, I tried to blank out the thought that had been with me ever since Ox Valley: a mile; a whole mile! She could be hard, Perilla. ‘But they weren’t movers. Or not prime movers. The guy responsible for all this – ultimately responsible – has to be someone who benefits both from Pegasus’s death and the poisoning. That means Natalis or Acceptus.’
She was facing me again. ‘So which one?’
‘Before we came to Sicily my money would’ve been on Acceptus, but now I’m not so sure. Natalis is the only one of the pair with links to all three. Plus to Pegasus himself, of course, through his brother. And one gets you ten that the key to the whole shooting match is horses.’
‘Hmm.’ Perilla rested her chin on her hand. ‘You don’t suppose it could have something to do with revenge, do you?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘You told me that Florus and Pegasus were at daggers drawn five years ago over their father’s will, and that Florus was responsible for cutting his brother off without a penny. Florus has built up a very successful stud farm, and a lot of the success has come from his supplying of horses to the Roman Greens.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. So?’
‘It’s just that Histrio was a breeder too, and his brother is the mate on the Phorcys which transports for the Greens. I was just wondering what would happen if Pegasus managed somehow to persuade the two to exchange one of the colts supplied by Florus for one of their own.’
A cold finger touched my spine. ‘Go on.’
‘That’s all, really. But the result would be that Natalis would get a second-rate horse when he’d paid for a champion racer. Where would that leave him vis-à-vis Florus?’
I felt a prickle of interest. What had Florus said? In this business you can’t afford to make mistakes. Reputation is everything. It would work; sure it would. ‘Florus’s reputation with the Greens would go right down the tube.’
‘There you are, then. Pegasus’s brother has refused to give him – in his eyes, at least – his proper share of the joint inheritance. In revenge Pegasus ruins – or tries to ruin – Florus’s market with the Greens.’
‘Yeah, but lady, it didn’t happen like that. Florus is still trading with Natalis. And if Natalis had thought he’d been sold a ringer then the first thing he’d do is scream to Florus and the game would be up.’
‘Unless he wasn’t taken in. I did say “tries to ruin”, Marcus. Remember, he did know that Pegasus was Florus’s brother and the two men had and have a long-standing business relationship. Or at least Florus had one by that time with the Greens as a whole. Natalis might have decided to absorb the loss and bide his time to take a revenge of his own.’
I shook my head. ‘Perilla, it wouldn’t work. There are too many holes. First of all, if this happened as much as five years back then why hasn’t there been any sign of it? Pegasus was still driving for the Greens up to six months ago and Natalis is still using Maximus as a transporter. If he knew both of them had tried to screw him he’d’ve settled the score long since. Also there’s the problem of Maximus himself. The guy’s a businessman, he relies on his reputation for honesty. You think he’d be ready to throw that away in exchange for a few gold pieces from Pegasus? Third, it doesn’t explain either of the other two murders or the poisoned horse. The dead deck-hand wasn’t aboard the Phorcys five years ago. Whatever beans he had to spill must’ve had a connection with something a lot more recent than –’
I stopped. Oh, shit. Oh, holy, immortal Jupiter!
Perilla frowned. ‘Marcus? Marcus, what’s wrong?’
I waved her down. I had to think. I remembered the guy with the thimbles and the pea in Cattlemarket Square: around and around and around...
Five years. Pegasus had been at his brother’s stud farm five years ago. Maximus might be a surly bugger, but businessman or not what friends he had he stuck to. Histrio didn’t know me from a cold in the head and couldn’t’ve known I would be in Sicily, but he knew I had to die all the same. Sopilys, with a secret that was worth twenty gold pieces and earned him a knife in an alley. Pegasus, with his penchant for blackmail...
They don’t even have to put into shore any more.
It fitted. It all fitted sweet as a nut, everything bar none. Around and around and around. I might not have all the answers yet, not by a long chalk – there was the question of the vet, for a start, and the markings, and above all Typhon – but it was only a matter of time because I knew now which thimble the pea was under.
I had to have another word with Florus. And after that catch the first ship back to Rome.
42.
It took us twelve days in total to find a suitable merchantman and make the trip to Ostia, and even so the captain had already let the deckhouse to a rich Sicilian and we had to bed down al fresco, so I arrived like a half-wrung-out dishrag. Still, I was happy enough: I’d got what I wanted, and the information from Florus checked out all the way down the line. We spent the first day back recuperating, and I sent Alexis round to the three sets of stables – Greens, Blues and Whites – to arrange a meeting. Sure, I could’ve talked to the principal protagonists individually but if I was right, and I’d bet a month’s income to a button that I was, the solution to the case was so tangled that I’d need them all together.
They agreed to meet at the Greens’ stables the next day, with Cario representing the Whites: Cammius, it seemed, was out of it completely now and had been since Polydoxus’s death. When the gate troll steered me into Natalis’s office they were already there. Not that the atmosphere was exactly convivial. The faces that turned towards me could’ve been carved from marble.
‘Hi,’ I said.
‘Sit down, Corvinus,’ Natalis snapped. He didn’t look much more prepossessing than the last time I’d seen him. ‘Socrates, wait outside.’
The gate troll gave me a parting scowl and left, closing the door behind him with exaggerated care. There was an empty chair to the right of the desk opposite Acceptus and Cario. I pulled it up and sat.
It wasn’t just me. Put three faction bosses – and it seemed I’d have to include Cario in that category now – in the same room together and it’s like hosting a wolverine’s convention. They’ll get on well enough in public, sure, but egos that size need space, and if you listened hard enough you could hear the elbows flexing. Acceptus, especially, was looking like a mule had shat in his porridge.
Natalis leaned back. If the charioteer statuette on his desk had still been there he’d’ve disappeared behind it altogether, but it’d been taken away. Probably to leave a clear line of fire. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘What’s this all about?’
Well, I appreciated the guy’s directness, anyway. ‘I know who murdered Pegasus and why,’ I said. ‘Also who poisoned Polydoxus.’
I had a good view of Acceptus and Cario. The youngster was looking pale but his jaw was set. Acceptus crossed his legs. Neither of them said anything.
‘Is that right, now?’ Natalis said. You could’ve used the glare I got to lance boils.
I turned to him. ‘You lost a colt about a year back. From a Sicilian breeder called Florus.’
