‘Business.’
‘You’re investing in gladiators?’
Probus scowled. ‘Of course not. Here on behalf of Fuscus. You don’t think he deals with these people himself, do you?’
Ruso, who had never really thought about the business side of public entertainment, said, ‘I thought he was supposed to have hand-picked the fighters.’
‘Then he fixed a price with the trainer, and left the rest up to me.’
Ruso hoped ‘the rest’ did not include the sanctioning of job offers to medical assistants. ‘How’s Claudia?’
‘None of your business.’ Probus moved closer and lowered his voice. ‘You had no right to ask her to look into Severus’ commercial dealings.’
‘I thought you might know who else he’d upset.’
‘Do you have the least idea what releasing private information to someone like you would do for my reputation?’
‘Speaking of reputation,’ said Ruso, ‘you could have told me Marcia was looking for a loan before I heard it as gossip.’
‘That’s exactly my point,’ snapped Probus. ‘Client confidentiality.’
‘She wasn’t a client. You refused her. Quite rightly.’
Probus eyed him for a moment. ‘You were a deep disappointment to me, Ruso. So much ability, yet so little …’ he paused, searching for a word. Finally he settled on ‘judgement’.
‘I didn’t poison your son-in-law.’
‘What you’ve never understood is that, for a man to succeed in life, it matters what people think of him. A lost reputation is impossible to recover. In my line of business, I have to be seen as utterly trustworthy.’
‘Mine too. What if this poisoner goes for Claudia next?’
‘Are you threatening my daughter now?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. And stop telling Fuscus I did it, will you?’
When Probus did not answer, he continued, ‘Someone knows the truth. Help me find out.’
‘There will be a proper investigation. We’re waiting for instructions from Rome.’
‘I’m not.’
Probus took a step closer. ‘You have no idea what you’re doing, Ruso. Are you trying to drag me down with you? And Claudia too? Because I won’t let that happen.’
‘Tell me something, Probus. When a man lends the money for a shipping venture, who carries the risk? The one who borrows it and arranges the voyage, or the lender?’
‘A shipping loan?’ The voice was incredulous. ‘We are discussing my daughter’s safety!’
‘Humour me.’
‘The lender, of course. High risk, high return.’
‘That’s why you sent Justinus on the ship.’ Ruso moved closer and murmured, ‘Severus lost you a lot of money, didn’t he?’
‘You know nothing about my affairs.’
‘If someone tells the investigator from Rome that Severus sank a lot of your money on the
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘You know how it is. Whoever gets picked as the culprit will have all his private business pegged out for inspection in the Forum while the lawyers argue over his moral character.’
A couple of thick-set men dressed only in grimy loincloths strolled across the courtyard and began to sort through the pile of nets, one of them displaying a lattice of scars across his back as he bent over. Others were beginning to emerge from the barrack-room. Shrieks of ‘Xantus!’ rose over a chant of ‘Am-pli-a-tus, Am-pli-a-tus!’ and hammering on the gates. Probus stepped aside in disgust as something that looked distinctly like female underwear landed in the dust near his feet. He glanced around to make sure he could not be overheard before murmuring, ‘I thought better of you than this, Ruso.’
‘We’re caught in the same net,’ said Ruso. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by fighting each other. Help me.’
‘If you try to take me down — or Claudia — I’ll ruin you. You think I don’t know you’re still in far more debt than the farm is worth?’
‘So. We share what we know and we help each other.’
Probus appeared to be considering his options, and not liking any of them. Finally he said, ‘I have to get ready for the funeral. I can give you some time tomorrow morning. Come alone and don’t tell anyone. You’ve caused enough trouble already.’
‘I’ll be there,’ promised Ruso. Watching his former father-in-law cross the courtyard and enter a shadowed door in the corner, it struck him that, if Probus was involved in the murder after all, a lone and secret visit to his house was definitely not a good idea. But the banker was also taking a risk in associating with him. They could circle round each other, deciding whether to land the first blow, like the pair of fighters now donning their glittering armour in the afternoon sun, or they could try and behave like partners with a common interest in seeking the truth.
In the meantime, he was off to visit some men who claimed they weren’t poisoners either. There seemed to be a lot of it about.
40
‘You again,’ observed the dark young man, pausing as he loaded the stack of snake boxes into the hand-cart. ‘Make it quick. We’re going.’
Ruso said, ‘Valgius?’
The man nestled the boxes into the straw and checked the fastening on the top lid before turning and fixing unblinking snake-eyes on Ruso. ‘I might be able to find him.’
‘Gnostus still doesn’t want to buy that snake.’
‘You’re from Gnostus?’ The furrows in the hard face spread around an unexpected grin. ‘Why didn’t you say so before?’
‘He said you might be able to help me with something.’
The young man glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. ‘Your poisoning?’
Ruso nodded.
‘My father said it sounded a bit like rhododendron honey.’
Ruso stared at him, vaguely recalling theoretical warnings about honey from bees that had fed on the wrong plants. He had never met it in practice.
‘How fast does it act?’
‘Depends how much you take. It tastes fine, so you could eat a fair bit and not know.’
‘I thought you could tell bad honey from the colour?’
‘Nah,’ said Valgius. ‘Not really.’
‘You mean it could have been an accident?’ An accident! Of course. It made perfect sense. The killers were the bees whose honey had been used to make Severus’ morning medicine. The investigators could simply trace the source of the rogue honey, and record the whole episode as a tragic accident. The lifting of a burden to which he had become so accustomed made Ruso feel positively light-headed. He had solved the mystery! He was free!
He was free for the fractional moment that passed between his question and Valgius replying, ‘Nah. Must have been done on purpose.’
‘But if you can’t tell …’
Valgius was shaking his head. ‘Ask yourself this,’ he said. ‘How many bees are there between Gaul, at one end of the sea, and Pontus, right up past the other? You wouldn’t end up with rhododendron honey here by accident. Mind you, I’ve not heard of anyone dying from it, but I suppose if you ate a lot …’
