Germanicus

'Crispus,' I said slowly. 'Fucking Crispus.'

'What Crispus? Carillus didn't go to see no Crispus. He went straight to a guy called Fulcinius Trio.'

I frowned. Fulcinius Trio? Who the hell was…? Then I remembered. Trio had been one of the prosecuting panel at Piso's trial; in fact, the opportunist who'd brought the charge in the first instance and been cold-shouldered by Germanicus's friends, who thought he'd no right muscling in. So. Lucius Fulcinius Trio, eh? It looked like we were in business again.

'Bathyllus, pal,' I said. 'Take this dishwater away and bring us some wine.'

Perilla sniffed.

38

I compromised with Perilla, the deal being that I'd behave for three days and after that Trio was mine, so long as I promised to go easy and take Agron along as a babysitter. A fair bargain. Even so, I nearly didn't make it, fitness-wise; after three more days on a diet of chicken soup and wine-flavoured water I wouldn't've backed myself arm-wrestling a five year old.

We took a litter: the Pincian's way up in the north of Rome and Trio's place was off Pincian Street itself, near the old gate in the Servian Wall. From my first view of the property it was obvious that social lightweight or not the guy wasn't doing too badly, which made me wonder straight off where the money had come from.

The slave who opened the door was young, pretty faced, fair haired and well groomed, and he wore a natty little tunic that showed a lot of thigh. Uhuh. So that was another angle I could follow up later. If Trio's taste in domestic servants ran that way then he might have more in common with Regulus than I'd thought.

'What name, sir?' The kid's look travelled from my face to the purple stripe on my mantle and then past me to Agron.

I pushed past him with Agron following. 'Just tell your master I've come about his meat deliveries. He'll know what I mean.'

Goldilocks wasn't happy, that was for sure. 'If you'd care to wait here, please,' he said, 'I'll ask if he's at home.'

'You do that, sunshine.' I looked around. Nice mosaics and a lot of good marble, all new and in the latest style. Wherever the money had come from it had only just arrived.

A minute later the slave was back. 'Follow me,' he said. No 'please' or 'sir' this time, and he didn't even look at Agron.

Trio was in his study. He was a pudding of a man in his mid thirties with eyes as shifty-sharp as a third-rate horse dealer's and no smile. He didn't get up from his desk to shake hands.

'Close the door behind you, Flavillus,' he said. 'I'll call if I need you.'

The kid left. I sat down uninvited on the reading couch while Agron took up a stance by the door. Trio's eyes shifted between us and settled on me. His lips pursed.

'Now,' he said. 'Maybe you'd like to tell me what you want.'

'I think you know that already, pal,' I said.

'I'm not a mind-reader. My door slave mentioned something about meat deliveries. I assume that was a joke, although I can't quite see the point of it.'

'No joke.' I sat back against the wall. 'I understand you had a visit a couple of days ago from a mutual friend. A butcher by the name of Carillus.'

'Then you understand wrongly. I have no butcher friends. And Flavillus didn't catch your own name, by the way.'

'I didn't give him it. Corvinus. Valerius Corvinus. You know that too. And I'm not mistaken about Carillus, Trio, because he was followed here. You're telling me you don't know him?'

He gave me a long considering look before he answered. 'No. I know Carillus. A freedman of Calpurnius Piso's whom I prosecuted several months ago. If you say he's a butcher then I'll take your word for it, although I wasn't aware of the fact myself. In any case I haven't seen him since the trial.'

'You're lying, sunshine,' I said cheerfully. 'I told you, Carillus was followed here. Did he tell you he'd just tried to kill me?'

There was a long silence. Then Trio heaved himself to his feet, his face flushed.

'I'm not used to being called a liar in my own house,' he said. 'I'll let it pass this once, because you've obviously been ill and perhaps you haven't fully recovered yet. But I must insist you either tell me the reason for your visit or leave immediately.'

I glanced at Agron. The big Illyrian leaned his back against the door. I heard the panels creak.

'Sit down, Trio,' I said.

He didn't move, but a muscle on his cheek twitched. 'Tell your friend to stand aside, please.'

'When I'm good and ready. But first I'll tell you what I know and then we'll take it from there. If you're wise you'll listen.'

It was touch and go. Sure, he could've shouted for the slaves — there'd be beefier specimens around than Goldilocks — or he could've tried to get past Agron on his own, in which case Jupiter knows what would've happened. An innocent man would've done both, but Trio wasn't innocent. He sat.

'Very well,' he said. 'Tell me.'

I hoped the relief didn't show on my face. That bit had been tricky.

'Okay,' I said. 'Let's start with the letter.'

The eyes were inscrutable. 'What letter?'

'The one Piso wrote the night he died and gave to Carillus to deliver.'

'Carillus admits this? You've talked to him, I assume.'

'He claims what Piso gave him was the deed to a slaughterhouse he'd just bought. And the only other letter extant — the suicide note — was found with Piso's body the next morning.'

'Then I don't see the problem.' Trio tried a smile. On that face it was as out of place as a whore at a Vestal's supper party. 'Carillus showed you the deed in question, presumably?'

'Sure he did.'

'And the emperor read out Piso's other note to the senate. So both pieces of paper are accounted for.'

'Yeah. Unless Carillus was lying. The letter I mean was addressed to Piso's lawyers. Only it never reached them.'

'That has nothing to do with me. I was acting for the prosecution.'

'Sure you were.' I smiled. 'That's the point. If Piso did give Carillus a letter to deliver — and I think he did — then it came to you. The question is whether it got sidetracked, or whether Piso meant you to have it in the first place.'

He went very still. 'Now why would you think that?' he said.

'Because you were a double. You were on Piso's side from the start. Or at least he thought you were.'

'That's nonsense. I brought the original charge. And I think, Corvinus, that you had better leave after all.'

'Later. You ever hear of a thing called a steam engine?' I used the Greek word.

I'd caught him on the wrong foot. 'A what?'

'A steam engine. Maybe not. One of these clever-clever gizmos the Greeks dream up for fun every now and then that don't lead anywhere. My uncle took me once when I was a kid to meet a crazy Alexandrian philosopher who fooled around with hydraulics and water organs. He'd worked out that if you heated the water in a closed system until it boiled and led the steam through a pipe you built up a head of pressure that would turn a wheel at the far end.'

Trio's eyes narrowed. 'Young man, fascinating though this is I don't see the relevance.'

'Oh, it's relevant. The guy's problem was there was no way to control the pressure. If it built up too high it blew the boiler or ruptured the seals in the pipe. So he fitted a weighted plug and that got blown out instead before the whole thing went up. Trouble was, one day the plug blew and smashed his skull. Served him right for being a smartass, I suppose.' I smiled again. 'That was you, Trio. You were the plug in the boiler. It was your job to take the pressure off before it blew the case apart. You see the relevance now?'

Trio stared at me, but this time he didn't say anything.

'I didn't think of it until I found out you were tied in with Carillus,' I went on. 'But it's the only explanation that makes sense. Agrippina and her cronies had a carefully-prepared case. If they'd been allowed to bring the charge themselves they would've done a proper job of it and not pulled any punches. Things could've got nasty, with all sorts of embarrassing shit floating to the surface.'