‘Yeah,’ I said sourly. ‘She’s got a lovely nature. At least, that’s what they keep telling me.’
‘So why the visit? Not that you’re not always welcome.’
‘Do me a favour?’
‘Sure.’ He laid the tablet on the desk.
‘The name Sextus Papinius mean anything to you?’
‘Kid who threw himself out of a tenement window two or three days back?’
‘That’s him. You happen to have the details?’
‘Not as such. It’s not my patch, Corvinus. The tenement was across the line in Thirteen. Head of Old Ostia Road between the hill and the river.’
‘Yeah, I know that.’ Bugger. Well, I shouldn’t really have expected anything else: these guys don’t poach, and they’re very careful about treading on each others’ toes. ‘Still, anything you can give me would be appreciated.’
Lippillus was watching me carefully. ‘Why the interest?’ he said.
‘It’s probably nothing. You remember Minicius Natalis, the Greens boss? He’s an ex-client of the boy’s grandfather. He asked me to look into the death.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Lippillus sucked at a tooth, and his eyes didn’t waver. Then he said: ‘The Thirteenth’s Titus Mescinius’s patch. If you want to talk to him I can give you an introduction. How would that do?’
‘Great!’ I didn’t know Mescinius, and as a general rule Watch commanders aren’t too appreciative of sassy purple-stripers butting in. An introduction from Lippillus would go a long way towards pre-emptively smoothing any ruffled feathers. ‘He — ah — liable to be informative?’
‘He’s okay. No ball of fire, mind, but he’s straight as a die and he won’t hold out on you, so long as you don’t get up his nose too much. That I do not advise.’ He reached for a clean wax tablet and stylus, scribbled a sentence or two and handed it over. ‘There you are. You owe me one.’
‘Dinner tomorrow?’
‘Make it the day after, with fish. Marcina can’t cook fish worth a damn.’
‘You’ve got it. Come on, Placida. Heel.’ I stood up and turned to go.
‘Oh, and Corvinus?’
I turned back. ‘Yeah?’
‘Enjoy your walk.’
The Watch-house for the thirteenth region was on Old Ostia Road itself, and not far from where the tenement must be. There was a slave outside brushing down the steps.
I hauled on Placida’s lead and dug my heels in until she decided to stop. ‘Boss around, pal?’ I said. The chances were he would be: Decimus Lippillus didn’t spend much of his time behind his desk, but then Lippillus was the exception. Most Watch commanders preferred to leave the wearing out of sandal leather to their squaddies.
‘Yes, sir. In his office.’ The slave pointed through the open door. ‘Straight ahead of you.’
‘Thanks. Uh…you mind looking after this for me?’
Before he could answer I’d slipped him the leash and was past him. I didn’t glance back, even when I heard the scream.
The door gave onto a lobby with an unoccupied desk and another door behind it. I went up to it and knocked.
‘Come in.’
I did.
‘Yes?’
Well, we weren’t talking lean and mean here, anyway. He was a big lad, Titus Mescinius, with the proportions — and probably the blubber content — of a beached whale. He’d set down the stylus he was holding and was blinking at me suspiciously.
‘The name’s Marcus Valerius Corvinus,’ I said.
‘That so, now?’
Friendly as hell. ‘Ah…Decimus Lippillus over at Public Pond said you might be willing to talk to me about a suicide a couple of days back.’ I handed him Lippillus’s note.
He read it in silence. Then he looked up. No smile, but you couldn’t expect miracles.
‘Papinius, eh?’ he said. ‘Tragic affair. Tragic. He was only nineteen, you know.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I did.’ There was a stool in front of the desk. I pulled it over. ‘Mind if I sit down? I’ve had a busy morning.’
‘Suit yourself.’ He laid the tablet to one side. ‘So you’re representing who, Corvinus? Decimus doesn’t say. Or are you a relative?’
‘Uh-uh. But there’s no hassle, I promise. Minicius Natalis, the Greens’ faction master — he’s an old friend of the family — and the boy’s mother asked me to find out all I could about the death. Why the boy killed himself, I mean. I just wanted to get the facts straight right at the start.’
Mescinius nodded. He didn’t look precisely gruntled, but I reckoned that was his normal expression. At least we were over the hump, and Natalis’s name seemed to have registered. Maybe the guy was a Greens fan. ‘Very commendable. And perfectly reasonable, under the circumstances. I’d be delighted to assist as far as I can. Just let me consult my notes.’ He pulled out a drawer in the desk, scrabbled through it and brought out a set of tablets. ‘Ah. Here we are.’ He untied the laces, opened the tablets and read. ‘Yes. Three days ago, two hours or so after noon, at the Carsidius tenement. Several witnesses, particularly the stallkeeper on the opposite side. Death was instantaneous, of course.’
‘Carsidius is the tenement owner?’
‘That’s right. He’s a senator; Lucius Carsidius. He has several properties in the area run through a factor by the name of Lucceius Caepio. The man has a flat on the first floor.’
‘Papinius was visiting Caepio?’
Mescinius frowned. ‘Actually, no, not that day, at least, although he had done on other occasions. Caepio was in at the time — he came downstairs when he heard the shouting — but he’d no idea the young man was in the building.’
‘So why was he there?’
That got me a look like I was a retarded prawn. ‘Surely the reason’s obvious from what followed, Corvinus. The boy was mentally disturbed, and he’d decided to kill himself. Under these circumstances I don’t think we need look for another explanation, do we?’
We were only at the information-gathering stage here, and theorising could wait for later. Still, I could feel the tingle of cold at the base of my neck that I always got when things didn’t quite add up.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘So what exactly happened? You said there were witnesses?’
‘Certainly. A whole streetful. Although no one saw the actual fall.’
‘He didn’t cry out? Scream? Anything like that?’
‘No. Not as far as anyone reported.’
‘And he didn’t leave a note?’
‘No again. Not in the room, at any rate. He had a tablet and stylus with him when he fell. We found them near the body, but the tablet was blank.’
‘The top flat. It was empty?’
‘That’s right.’
‘So how did he get in?’
‘He had a key on him. We found that too.’
Jupiter on skates! ‘He had a what? Where the hell did he get it from?’
Mescinius stiffened. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say. Presumably from the factor, Caepio, on one of the previous occasions.’
‘Why would Caepio give him a key to an empty flat?’
‘For the purposes of damage assessment, naturally. You know that Papinius was with the Aventine fire commission?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I knew that.’
‘There you are, then. Although the tenement itself wasn’t directly affected, the roof would certainly have been exposed to blown embers from properties further up the hill, and of course the top flat lay immediately under the tiles.’
I was staring at him. Sweet immortal gods! This guy was a Watch commander? ‘But you didn’t check,’ I said neutrally. ‘As to whether Caepio had given him the key or not.’
The drop in temperature was almost physical. Mescinius leaned forward slowly and put his hands flat on the desktop. He wasn’t looking friendly at all now. ‘Valerius Corvinus,’ he said. ‘Do you realise just how busy this section of the Watch is? I’ve two regions under my jurisdiction and precious few men to deal with them, and I can’t afford to spend time chasing up every apparent anomaly in an incident, especially where the incident is obviously a suicide and the anomaly will no doubt prove to be only apparent. Now. The flat the boy fell from was empty. He had clearly gone there with the intention of killing himself and secured the means of access beforehand. How he did that I don’t know, but no doubt there’s a perfectly rational explanation. I am very sorry for the lad’s family, and I wish you every success in your investigations, but young Papinius’s reasons for committing suicide, as such, are not my concern. Under the circumstances I have to regard the matter as closed. You understand me?’