Germanicus

I'd forgotten his hernia. Supported although it now was. 'Okay, walk. Only walk fast, right?'

'Thank you, sir. Most generous.'

'Cut it out, little guy. It’s important, and I want you to go yourself because I know you'll get it right first time.' Oil oil, smarm smarm.

'Your estimation of my capabilities is most gratifying, sir. However I had planned to — ’

The hell with this. 'Look, just go, okay?' I snapped. Jupiter's balls on a string, did everyone have these problems with the bought help or was it just me? I gave him directions to Lippillus's place and told him what I wanted. 'And if he's not at home then try the Watch headquarters. You know where they are?'

'Of course. Not a very prepossessing building, as I remember.' He sniffed.

'You starting a cold, Bathyllus?'

'No, sir.' Stiffly.

'Fine. The mistress in?'

'As far as I know, sir, yes.'

'Good. Bugger off, then.'

He buggered off fast as a speeding tortoise. I went inside, being careful to wipe my feet on the mosaic in the process.

Perilla was in the garden, deep in a book. I crept up on her and bit her neck. She didn't look round.

'Go away, Corvinus,' she said. 'You smell of barber's talc.'

Good start. 'That's because I've just had a very interesting haircut.' I peered over her shoulder and examined the book. Heavy stuff, and in Greek: Nicander's Theriaca, a study of poisons and their antidotes. 'You doing some research, or were you serious the other night about poisoning my breakfast porridge?'

'The former, actually, but the latter is becoming rapidly more attractive.'

Ouch. What with Bathyllus and Perilla both in moods the home team weren't doing too well this morning. Maybe I should go out and come back in again as somebody else. 'You want to watch that reading, lady. Too much of it drives you mad.'

Perilla closed the roll with a sigh. 'Are you especially trying to be annoying, dear, or does it come naturally?'

'Both.' I came round the front and kissed her. 'I know what scam Piso and Regulus were involved in. Or at least I think I know. Bathyllus has just galloped off to get the proof.'

That got her interest. 'Tell me,' she said.

I sat down next to her on the stone bench. 'I'd assumed it had something to do with the trial. It doesn't, or not directly. Regulus worked in the tax office. Imperial division.'

'So?'

'So I'll bet my boots he looked after Syria.'

She was quiet for a long time. Then she said: 'I see. You think Piso and Regulus were fiddling the taxes between them while Piso was governor?'

'That's the theory.'

'It's possible, I suppose.'

'Sure it's possible. It's every governor's dream to have a friend at the tax office who can juggle the figures and level out the bumps in the balance sheet. And it explains why Regulus practically hugged me when I told him all I was interested in was the trial. The guy was heading for the hills with a ton of documents under his arm, and one gets you ten they weren't the Residence's laundry bills.'

'Mmm.' Her brow creased. 'So what, if anything, does this have to do with Germanicus?'

'Simple. One reason Germanicus was sent out east — besides to clinch the Parthian deal — was that the locals were screaming over the amount of tax they had to pay. It's an unwritten law that within reason a governor's entitled to his perks, but I reckon Piso was getting greedy. Taking two bites at the cherry and counting on his personal friendship with the Wart to keep him out of trouble, like it did in Spain. So then suddenly he finds a strait-laced imperial banging on his door and asking to see the receipts, and he panics.'

'Are you saying now it was Piso who killed Germanicus after all? Piso personally, to cover up embezzlement?'

I shifted uncomfortably. 'Well, no. I wouldn't go quite that far. But it'd help to explain why the two were at daggers drawn right from the start. If Germanicus were building up a case against the guy — a valid case — then Piso would be keen to get rid of him. Maybe even keen enough to agree to act as someone's agent for murder. Someone with the clout to protect him when the feathers started to fly.'

'Whose agent? Presumably not Tiberius's, for obvious reasons. Drusus and Livilla's?'

'I don't know. I really don't know. Maybe.' I sighed. 'I'll tell you one thing, though. We won't get many more answers in Rome. We're going round in circles as it is, and we need to break fresh ground.'

'Then what would you suggest? Or could we possibly just give this whole thing up? It has nothing to do with us, anyway.'

I ignored that. She didn't mean it, really.

'You ever been to Syria?' I said.

‘No. Of course not.’

‘Like to go?’

Her eyes widened. 'You're not serious!'

'Sure I'm serious. Lovely country, so I'm told. Good barbers. Cheery locals. They like racing.'

Perilla was frowning. 'I may not have been to Syria myself,' she said slowly. 'But I do know someone who has. He's there now, in fact. Very much so.'

Oh, hell. Hell’s bloody teeth; I'd forgotten about her ex. Suillius Rufus had been on Germanicus's staff, and now he commanded one of the Syrian legions. Not only was the guy there, he was one of the top brass…

'Uh, yeah,' I said. 'Well, that's certainly a drawback, I suppose.'

'Marcus.' There was the barest touch of ice in her voice. 'I'm sorry, but this is not a good idea. Please forget it altogether.'

I back-tracked rapidly. 'Well, maybe it is a bit of a bummer at that,’ I said. ‘Never mind, just a suggestion.'

'I don't even want to be in the same country as Rufus, never mind the same city.'

'Uh, Syria's pretty big, Perilla.' Bugger. I hadn't considered checking things out at the other end until my pal the barber had put the idea into my head. Not consciously anyway. But the more I thought about it the more I liked it. 'The guy's probably up country somewhere sticking pigs.'

'The Third Gallic is based in Antioch, as you well know. I assume that would be where you would be conducting your investigations.' She bent down and picked up her book. 'Now if you don't mind I want to get on with this. The librarian at the Pollio gave me it on special loan and he needs it back by tomorrow.'

She'd frozen up on me. I knew the signs. Not that I blamed her: I'd never actually met Rufus, but from what she'd told me about him at our first-ever dinner together and the few times she'd mentioned him since he sounded a real thoroughgoing gold plated bastard. Also, as I knew, he hadn't wanted to agree to the divorce. If I hadn't had Livia pitching for me, and through her the Wart, it never would've happened. That must've made the guy pretty sour. I didn't particularly mind having to meet him face to face, but I wasn't going to bust a gut arranging dinner.

We needed a new angle on the case, though. We really did. And taking things from the Syrian end would've given us it.

Well, maybe Lippillus would come up with something. I kissed the top of Perilla's head and went inside to catalogue my pottery collection.

17

Bathyllus got back late in the afternoon: forget 'run', on the way there and back the bastard must've had problems overhauling snails. Also he was smirking when he came into the study, which is always a bad sign.

'Hey, little guy,' I said. 'You find Lippillus?'

'Yes, sir. Eventually. He was out shopping for his mother.'

'Get her cheap, did he?' Not a flicker. Jupiter knows why I bother. 'Okay, so spit it out.'

'Livineius Regulus worked in the department dealing with Noricum, sir.'

I looked at him. 'Where?'

'Noricum. It's one of the minor northern provinces. Beyond the Carnican Alps. Between Rhaetia and Pannonia.'

'I know where Noricum is, you smart bugger! Regulus didn't have any connection with Syria? None at all?'