Germanicus

'"Maimed", of course. Is this supposed to prove something?'

'"Maimed" in particular respect of what?'

'The hand.' Her startled eyes met mine. 'I'm a fool. Vitellius had a finger missing, or the top joint of one, rather. You're right, it fits.'

'Of course it does.' I took a smug mouthful of Falernian. 'Vitellius is our boy, sure as eggs is eggs, whether he claimed to be Germanicus's friend or not. And another thing. He was the only guy on the Syrian staff to be left over from the other team. The rest were either new like Lamia or they were Piso's appointees who the Wart would know were loyal.'

'Then you think Lamia knew that it was Vitellius who arranged Germanicus's death?'

'It explains the way Lamia held back from him at the party, for a start. He may've been Sejanus's cousin and involved in the cover-up, but he was basically a decent guy having to do a dirty job. He had to put personalities aside in the cause of duty but he still couldn't take Vitellius's smell. It explains why your pal Acutia wasn't flavour of the month with the wives, too. I'd bet a barrel of oysters to a button they all knew as well.'

'But that's dreadful!'

'It's politics, lady.' I emptied the last of the Falernian into my cup. Perilla didn't seem to notice. 'As games go they don't come any dirtier. There's not a lot we can do with the information now, except maybe pass it on to Martina's sister like we promised. I doubt if she'll be able to do anything but we'll have done our best.'

'But wasn't Vitellius taking a terrible risk? After all, if he was prosecuting Piso in Rome and Martina knew him then…' She stopped. 'Oh, yes. Yes, of course. That was why Martina had to die at Brindisi, wasn't it?'

'It was one of the reasons, sure. But she knew too much else anyway. And then Tiberius made sure the guy went straight back to Syria after Piso was safely dead. No wonder the trial went the way the Wart planned it, or Sejanus, rather. He had two of his own men on the prosecuting panel. It's a pity he couldn't've made absolutely certain by having…' I stopped. 'Shit. He did. Of course he did.'

'What's wrong?' Perilla was staring at me.

'Sejanus didn't just have two lawyers in his pocket. He had three.'

'Who was the third? Another of Germanicus's friends?'

'Oh, no,' I said. 'That's the point. The third was Livineius Regulus.'

'But Regulus was…oh!'

I could see she'd got it too. 'Right. Regulus was on the other side. I wondered at the time why he should agree to defend Piso when the two weren't connected; not officially connected, anyway. The trial was sewn up from the start.'

'But what makes you think Regulus was an agent of Sejanus? Surely-?'

'The way he died. He was killed by Carillus who worked for Trio who worked for Sejanus. And he was killed as a traitor. I asked Trio two questions when I talked to him: who did Regulus betray, and what did he do? Maybe now I can answer them both myself.'

'The first's easy. He betrayed Sejanus.'

'Right. The hook and the Stairs are just the kind of brutal joke Sejanus would enjoy.'

'What about the second? What exactly did Regulus do?'

I took a swallow of wine, nearly the last. Doctor or not, it had done me good and I half considered yelling for Bathyllus to come out from wherever the hell he was hiding and bring another jug; but that would've been pushing things.

'He talked to someone,' I said. 'Or rather, he threatened to talk to them.'

'You mean Agrippina?'

'What would be the use in that? If Sejanus was acting on orders from the Wart then Agrippina was stymied whether she knew the truth or not. And Regulus wouldn't dare cross the emperor, whatever inducements were offered.'

'So who, then?'

'Tiberius, of course.'

'But, Marcus, the emperor already knew the circumstances of Germanicus's death!'

'He thought he did, yeah. And he still thinks so. Sure, Sejanus was working for the Wart. But he had fish of his own to fry at the same time, very private fish. Regulus knew that and the Wart didn't.'

'Corvinus.' Perilla was being very patient. 'If Sejanus killed Germanicus for treason on Tiberius's instructions and they organised the trial and the cover-up together, then what information could Regulus have that would possibly interest the emperor?'

'That's what I don't know, lady. But I mean to find out.' Screw Cotta and his warnings: I was much too close to give the case up now, however dangerous it was. I'd have to go careful, sure, but if Sejanus was playing a game of his own then maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel after all.

First things first. The hell with doctors. I yelled for Bathyllus. He came slinking out of the kitchen corridor with a smile that looked exactly like hair oil smelt.

'Hey, little guy,' I said. 'Go down to the cellar and bring us another belt of Falernian, okay?'

Perilla looked up but I gave her a look back and she didn't say a word. Sometimes we understand each other perfectly.

41

Maybe it was thanks to the Falernian, or maybe I'd just got fed up being treated like one of Lamia's Tyrian glasses, but I woke up the next morning feeling great. Sure, the hole in my ribs hadn't magically disappeared, but the pain was no worse now than the aftereffects of a clout with a wooden sword at the gym. And not a patch on one of Scylax's famous massages.

We were out in the garden having breakfast when Bathyllus came through with what looked like a twelve year old kid in tow. I didn't recognise the guy at first. Then I did: Flavonius Lippillus of the Aventine Watch.

'So how're the ribs, Corvinus?' he said.

I tossed him an apple with my bad arm. Not a bad throw. Not good, mind, but it went the distance and he caught it without having to stretch. 'That answer your question, pal?'

'Just about.' He bit into the apple and sat down on the bench beside the hedge.

I introduced Perilla.

She smiled at him. 'Would you like some bread and olives?'

'I had breakfast long ago, ma'am. Thanks all the same.'

I dunked a scrap of my own bread in olive oil and speared a piece of cheese with my knife. That was another sign I was cured: I don't usually worry too much about breakfast but this morning I was starved. 'Who told you about my ribs, Lippillus?’ I said. ‘And what the hell are you doing here after we agreed to hang the plague sign up?'

He shrugged. 'The first question's simple. You're a purple striper, and purple stripers don't get knifed in German beer dens all that often.'

'It happened in the Subura. That's not your district.'

'Maybe not. But word gets around. Even when big Illyrian blacksmiths don't bother to lodge a complaint.' Uh-huh. Shit, the kid was smart, all right. It gave me a creepy feeling of being watched. You begin to wonder just how public your private affairs are. 'As far as being here's concerned, I just happened to be in the neighbourhood officially, so I thought I'd call in.'

'Another murder?'

'Not quite.' He looked shamefaced. 'The lady down the road lost her pet monkey.'

Oh, yes,' Perilla murmured. 'Fulvia Lucilla, Marcus. The City Watch commander's aunt. His old, childless and very wealthy aunt.'

'You've got it, ma'am.' Lippillus's voice was expressionless. 'The boss put the entire force on full alert. We found the brute yesterday perched on the roof of the Queen Juno temple pelting the priests with loose tiles. I've just brought it back. Complete with Watch commander, all smiles and hair oil.'

I laughed. 'No kidding?'

'No kidding. The bastard pissed all over my tunic.' He glanced sideways at Perilla; now he was laughing too. 'The monkey, not my boss.'

'Hey, Bathyllus!' I shouted. The little guy was kicking his heels in the shelter of the portico. 'Bring our guest here a cup of wine. The special stuff we keep for monkey rescuers with pissed-on tunics.'