'That is correct,' he declared autocratically.
I grinned. 'Licinius Rufius, I believe all men in business want to be richer than their colleagues. All would happily cheat a foreigner. All would like the running of their own sphere of commerce to be sewn up as tight as a handball, with no uncontrollable forces.'
'There will always be risk!' he protested, perhaps rather dryly.
'The weather,' I conceded. 'The health of the businessman, the loyalty of his workers. War. Volcanoes. Litigation. And unforeseen policies imposed by the government.'
'I was thinking more of the fickleness of consumers' taste,' he smiled.
I shook my head, tutting gently. 'I forgot that one! I don't know why you stay in the business.'
'Community spirit,' he laughed.
Talking to Licinius Rufius resembled the overblown jollity of a military dining club the night the pay-chest came-when everyone knew the sesterces were safely in camp, but the distribution would happen tomorrow so nobody was drunk yet. Maybe we two soon would be, for Rufius seemed to feel he had led me astray from my purpose so successfully he could now afford to clap his hands for a slave to pour him wine. I was offered more, but declined, making it plain I was only waiting for the nervous waiter to remove himself before I continued the interview. Rufius drank slowly, surveying me over the rim of his cup with a confidence that was meant to beat me down.
I dropped my voice abruptly. 'So I met you in Rome, sir. We both dined on the Palatine. I then called on you at the Quinctius house, but you had gone. Tell me, why did you leave our splendid city so suddenly?'
'Family ties,' he replied, without pausing.
'Indeed? I gather your colleague Annaeus Maximus suddenly developed pressing family ties too! And the bargeman, I suppose-and the negotiator from Hispalis! Forgive me, but for men of affairs you all seem to have made that long journey without enough forward planning.'
I thought I saw him check, but the reaction was slight. 'We had traveled to Rome together. We traveled home in one group too. Safety, you know.' For the first time I detected a slight impatience with my questions. He was trying to make me feel like a lout who had abused his hospitality.
'I'm sorry, but your departure looks suspiciously hurried, sir.'
'None of us ever intended a long stay in Rome. We all wanted to return home for the Parilia.' Very rustic! And he had dodged a direct answer with the glibness of a politician.
'And of course this had nothing to do with Quinctius Attractus trying to promote a cartel?'
Licinius Rufius stopped answering me so smoothly.
We stared at each other for a few beats of time.
'There is no hoarding or price-fixing in Corduba!' His voice rasped so harshly it startled me. He sounded extremely angry. His protest could be genuine. He knew why I had come here though, so he had had time to prepare a convincing show of outrage. 'There is no need for it. There is plenty for everyone. The olive oil trade is now flowering in Baetica as never before-'
'So once the trees are planted you can all just sit back and watch the fortunes flowing in! Tell me this then, sir: Why did that group of you really decide to visit Rome?'
I saw him regain control of himself. 'It was a normal business voyage. We were renewing ties with our agents in Ostia and exchanging goodwill with our contacts in Rome. This happens all the time, Falco.'
'Oh yes. Nothing unusual at all-except that the night your main contact entertained you all in the Palace of the Caesars, two men who had been in the same dining room were later brutally attacked!'
I could see he was forcing himself not to react. He chose to try and bluff it out: 'Yes, we heard about that just before we left.'
Twitching an eyebrow, I asked gently, 'Oh? And who told you this, sir?'
Rufius belatedly realized he had walked into trouble. 'Quinctius Attractus.' A neat dodge, since Quinctius had enough importance in Rome to be well informed about everything.
'Really? Did he tell you who told him?'
'He heard it at the Senate.'
'He could well have done,' I smiled, 'only the dinner for the Society of Olive Oil Producers of Baetica was held on the last night of March. The Senate goes into recess from the beginning of April to the middle of May!'
Licinius almost gave away the fact that he was struggling now: 'Well, I cannot say where he heard it. He is, after all, a senator and hears all the important news before most of Rome-'
'It was never news,' I corrected him. 'An order had been given on the highest authority that the attacks should not be made public. You people left the very day afterwards. At that time only a handful of people on the Palatine-a very small group in the intelligence service and Titus Caesar himself-knew that killers had been at work.'
'I think you underestimate the importance of Quinctius Attractus,' answered Licinius.
There was another short silence. I sensed a worrying force behind his words. Ambitious men like Attractus always do carry more weight than they deserve.
Licinius felt a gloss was necessary: 'The fact that we had dined with two men who died was, Falco, as you are suggesting, one of the other reasons my colleagues and I took our leave. The incident sounded a little too close for comfort. We decided Rome was a dangerous city, and I confess we fled.'
He struck me as a man who would not normally run away from a spot of civic disorder.
Natural curiosity about the tragedy gripped him. He leaned forwards and murmured in a confidential tone, 'Did
'I know the one who is not dead.'
I spoke it very gently, leaving Rufius to wonder which one had survived; how well I knew him; and what he had managed to say to me before I left Rome.
I might have taken things further, though I doubt I would have been any more successful. In any case, it was my turn to be called away unexpectedly. An uproar disturbed us, then almost immediately a slave came running to tell me I had better come quick because my borrowed horse Prancer had wandered through the new entrance portico, and into the gracious peristyle garden with the beautiful topiary. Prancer's yearning for foliage was insatiable, and he had lost all discretion. By the time he was spotted many of the clipped trees had ceased to look so elegant.
The Rufii coped with this accident in a terribly good-natured manner and assured me the lions would grow again. They just scoffed when I offered to pay for the damage. We all joked merrily that it was an act of revenge from their rivals the Annaei who had lent me the horse.
They could afford to replace the boxtrees and I couldn't, so I thanked them quietly for their generous attitude- then Prancer and I left, as fast as I could make him trot.
Helena Justina had very few clothes on. Any ideas this might have given me were soon banished by the fact that she smelled like a salad.
'I see you're marinading the child!'
Calmly she continued to massage neat olive oil into her stomach. 'Apparently this will ease my stretched skin- and if there's any over I can pour it on our lunch.'
'Wonderful stuff. Want any help rubbing it in?'
Helena waved a Baetican redware jug at me. 'No.'
'Well, it should do you good.'
'I'm sure! Like using oil in dough; perhaps I'll be more flexible, and with a moist crust…' Helena loved to collect interesting lore, but often had a hard time taking it seriously.
I threw myself on a couch and settled down to watch. Stricken with an odd quirk of modesty, Helena turned her back. 'Was there ever a more useful substance?' I mused. 'Olive oil prevents burns from blistering and it's good for your liver, it stops rust in iron pots, and preserves food; the wood makes bowls and it flames well in a fire-'
'In this country the children are weaned on a porridge made from olive oil and wheat,' Helena joined in,
