To gear them up, we had to prove a link. But Bratta was a professional. He had left no clues. Mind you, even if he had left evidence all over the clown's apartment, and if a witness on the spot had seen him strangling Spindex, Paccius Africanus would get him off.
`Anything else?' I asked Helena. She was our duty officer. I was too depressed to think.
`Only that my father wants to help with your impiety charge. After I talked to him, he went to see someone.'
`He's a gem – but I can't deal with that at present.'
`You can't dodge out of it, Marcus. Just as well Papa is trying to look after you!'
We were due in court on the Calpurnia case next morning. It was unavoidable. I had wanted to debate tactics with Honorius, but he had never showed up. I was about to find out why. Before the morning session started, I made an attempt to nudge things our way. It was doomed, but I had nothing to lose. I took myself for an early stroll at the Basilica Paulli, looking for Paccius and Silius. Ever optimistic, I was hoping to fix up some plea bargaining.
LIII
FOUND THE two elder statesmen sharing their usual friendly cake and tisane. Honorius was with them. Maybe he too wanted to sort out something helpful for Falco and Associates. Who was I fooling? Our colleague was here to protect his own interests.
Nobody seemed surprised to see me. Silius, that manoeuvring overfed blob, used his foot to hook over a seat from another table. Although not part of our case, he stayed on, looking a misery as usual. I seated myself. Paccius, ever restrained in society, moved their plate of almond fancies slightly; I declined. All their togas were piled in a heap together on another bench. I kept mine folded on my knees. I needed the warmth. It was a cold day and I was in company that chilled me.
Here we sat, among the fine Doric columns of black and red marble in the Porticus of Gaius and Lucius, named for the grandsons of Augustus, lost golden boys whose early deaths symbolised dashed hopes. We occupied a peaceful corner outside the shops, close to one of the staircases that took people up from this gracious porch-like frontage to the richly ornate upper gallery of the Basilica Paulli. This was sophisticated living. Or it should have been. But I was doing business with men who lacked all honour, faith and decency.
I gazed at Honorius. Never had his well-shaved handsome young visage seemed so objectionable. `I take it we have lost your fine presence from our team, Honorius?'
He knew I meant he had stuffed us.
`I am sorry, Falco.' If he was abashed, his regret was cursory. `It seems best to go back to Silius.'
The idealist had turned realist and I told him not to apologise. It was Metellus Negrinus who took Honorius on. I had known what he was from the start. Privately, my concern now was what he had told his two manipulating masters. He was bound to have told them something; it would be the price of their welcome home to the wanderer.
I turned to Paccius. `You will have gathered from our approach to the judge yesterday that we have had to reconsider the evidence.'
`You accept that Calpurnia Cara is innocent?'
`No, I think she has a lot to answer for. But we shall withdraw our murder charge.'
`My client will be delighted,' Paccius said mildly. He had no need to gloat and he was too subtle to mention huge damages. His calm air of self-assurance made the prospect all the more frightening.
I pressed on with trying to negotiate. `Silius, our new evidence means your petition against Negrinus will not hold up. He did not kill his father. If you go for it, we can wipe you out. Be grateful: we are preventing you from embarking on a fruitless case.' Silius laughed. Paccius pretended to be politely absorbed in something else, while Honorius looked embarrassed. `But you still need to prove formally that Rubirius Metellus did not commit suicide, so you can claim your compensation. We know what happened. I can offer you a bargain -'
`I'm not buying,' said Silius, enjoying himself. `I know that Metellus was murdered by Saffia.'
Honorius was staring at the ground. Since I arrived, an almond cake crimped with one forlorn bite had lain untouched in front of him. I was right: Silius had bought him. Now I knew how. Paccius, in league with Silius despite their alleged feud, had promised Honorius he would waive any Calpurnia compensation which Marponius awarded against him. So Honorius had given this pair my saleable information.
I kept my thoughts to myself. Expressionless, I stood up and said I would see them in court.
Maybe Honorius had a conscience – though if so, it would not last among those liver-pecking eagles. As I went back across the Forum to the Basilica, he did rush after me. He was agitated.
`Falco! Just let me say this: my leaving is not as bad as you think.'
`Oh no?' At the base of a statue plinth I rounded on him. `You mean, you have not dumped us because we're in trouble – and you did not tell those bastards we identified Saffia as the killer?'
`I've left you,' he conceded. `And the timing stinks. But they already knew about Saffia.'
I paused. `They knew?'
`Paccius knew Bratta bought the hemlock for her. And she told Bratta she wanted it for her father-in- law.'
`Well, that was correct!' I stopped. `How did Paccius know?'
`When Saffia left Negrinus, Paccius advised on their divorce. He sent Bratta to help with her removals. She knew what kind of work Bratta did. When she asked about buying poison, Bratta reported straight back to Paccius.'
`So did Paccius encourage – or better still, order – Bratta to help acquire the hemlock…?' Honorius and I knew we would find no answer to that red hot question.
Paccius Africanus was tangled up in this business to a degree that I would call unethical – had ethics had any place in his world. If he was party to Bratta's purchase, we could charge him with incitement, or with being an accessory to murder. But I would never prove it.
I was wondering whether Paccius realised Bratta might have killed Spindex. I doubted if Honorius knew. Even Paccius might be in the dark: Bratta may have acted on his own initiative. None of them knew yet that Bratta was wanted by the vigiles. Perhaps a sordid backstreet killing which Paccius had never authorised might yet be used to topple the informers' elaborate schemes. `Bratta has disappeared, Honorius. Do they know where he is?'
`Bratta? Paccius has the rogue as a house guest at his own mansion.' Hmm. I wondered if we could lift Bratta. Not that Petronius Longus, whose remit was the Aventine, would agree to go north of the Forum. He wouldn't want to raid an ex-consul's grand abode either. I would have to extract Bratta myself.
`One last thing – Did they both know about Saffia? Paccius and Silius?' Ashamed of his new compatriots, Honorius nodded. `And did they know from the start?'
`I suppose they may have done.'
At long last I saw it all. If the two informers knew all along who killed Metellus, everything since had been a set-up. They had deliberately failed to prosecute Saffia herself They had toyed with Rubiria Juliana, then worked around to Metellus Negrinus. They manipulated me, hoping I would make a counter-charge – one they always knew could not hold up. They could have stopped the Calpurnia prosecution at any time. They had Bratta as a star witness. With his tale of buying the poison for Saffia, they were all set to run up their compensation claim against Falco and Associates.
As it turned out, being ethical idiots, Falco and Associates had saved them the bother.
I wondered if Paccius and Silius had deliberately planted Honorius amongst us as a spy. For a moment I even wondered if they had primed the steward to spout his story about Saffia's quails now, at a time that suited them. However, I guessed their information all came from Bratta.
Something else struck me. Maybe the two informers' crafty tricks went back much further than I had realised. If they knew about Saffia and the quails, maybe they knew whatever secret Saffia had used to blackmail the Metelli.
Finally, I began to grasp the scale – and the long timescale – of their devious plans. They had lined up the Metelli as victims years ago.
