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‘Jupiter and all the holy gods, Bathyllus — !’

‘Yes, sir, yes, I know. But there was really nothing I could do.’

‘No message, naturally.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Okay, little guy. You’re hopeless. Bugger off.’ I took the box and opened it.

Inside was an iron key. Nothing else. Just that.

Games.

30

We stared at it.

‘It’s another key to the tenement flat,’ Perilla said. ‘Isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. Or at least I’d bet good money. Still, that’s one thing we can check on now. Hey, Bathyllus!’

He was on his way back through the portico. He turned round.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You’ll find a key in the top left-hand drawer of my study desk. Bring it out, will you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

I sat back. ‘You ever get the feeling you’re being manipulated, lady?’

‘Mmm.’ She was twisting her curl. ‘Where did it come from, do you think?’

‘My guess is Macro. How the hell he got it I don’t know.’

‘But he must’ve had a key! After all, if Aponius and Pettius did kill Papinius they’d need one to get into the flat.’

‘Yeah, but — ’ I stopped. Something, somewhere, was niggling. ‘Hang on, this isn’t right. Let’s do it properly. What keys do we know about?’

‘The one Papinius took from Caepio’s key-board to get in. Then of course there was Caepio’s own duplicate on the ring.’

‘Okay. That’s two. These are the legit ones, the tenement copies, both accounted for. Add a third legit, the one Carsidius’s bailiff would’ve kept, that we haven’t seen. Now we get to the crunch. There was a fourth key, the one that Mescinius found in Caepio’s bedroom that he handed over to Lippillus and Lippillus gave to me. That’s the one Bathyllus is going for now, right? Only now there’s this one. Notice anything strange?’

Perilla was looking at me with wide eyes. She’d seen the problem, just like I had. ‘There has to be one too many,’ she said. ‘Even if one of the extras is identical with Carsidius’s bailiff’s.’

‘Right. So if the one in the box is the one Macro’s hit-men used to get in — assuming for the moment that they were his hit-men and Macro sent me the key — then where did it come from? And how does it figure?’

‘Couldn’t it be just an ordinary spare?’ She shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry, that’s nonsense. Why a spare for only one flat? And if Caepio had an extra key to that particular flat in his possession then it’s suspicious in its own right.’

Bathyllus was coming back. I put the two keys together. They matched.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Check. Always best to be sure. Thanks, Bathyllus, off you go and buttle.’ I turned to Perilla. ‘Fine, so we’re playing games again. We’re being told something. You want my theory?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Listen carefully, lady. I may not know where Macro’s key came from, but six gets you ten the key Mescinius found in Caepio’s bedroom was the one on the board.’

‘But Papinius had that one with him when he died!’

‘Yeah? Who says? Who says it was that particular key?’

‘But — ’ She stopped. ‘Ah.’

‘Right. Caepio lied. He took the key from the board himself after the Watch found the one with the kid, so he could claim to me or anyone else asking awkward questions that Papinius had filched it. The key Papinius had on him when he was killed was one he’d brought with him.’

‘But that would mean…Marcus, are you saying that Papinius had his own key to the flat? Why on earth should he?’

‘Because he was a member of the conspiracy against Macro.’

What?

‘Come on, Perilla! It all fits together. Take everything we said about the Ahenobarbus scam and apply it here, only for some racket involving the fire commission substitute killing Macro.’

‘Marcus, I’m sorry, but we’re back to the fact that Papinius was an ordinary nineteen-year-old young man with no particular talents. Now I’m perfectly willing to believe that his father Ahenobarbus might recruit him for some sort of skulduggery in the fire commission, but why should the boy be part of a plot against Sertorius Macro? Leaving motive aside, what possible use would he be?’

Yeah; that was worrying me too. The simple answer was, None whatsoever. The trouble was that I was right. I had to be.

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘so we’re still missing something. Let’s run through the scenario, see if everything squares and where the rough areas are. Then we’ll have another think.’

‘Very well. Go ahead.’

I topped up my wine-cup and took a swig. ‘Fine. First of all, we’ve got the conspiracy itself. My bet is that it started as an idea with Albucilla and Acutia, just the two of them. Motive simple hatred and revenge: Albucilla was always a big supporter of Sejanus as well as being his mistress, while Macro was responsible for Acutia’s husband committing suicide. Fair enough?’

‘Yes.’

‘So if they want to kill Macro then how can they do it? Not alone: what they need is an insider on the team, someone close to him who can plant the dagger or poison his porridge or otherwise stiff the bastard.’

‘Pontius Fregellanus.’

‘Right. Fregellanus isn’t perfect, by any means — I’d say the dagger in the ribs’d be out for a start — but like I said he’s the best they’re likely to get. Now they have to hook him, and they’re women, remember, so that means sex.’

‘Marcus — ’

I grinned. ‘Yeah, well, take it or leave it. We’re talking the real, practical world here, and if sex isn’t the only way possible it’s the quickest and easiest. So. Albucilla’s no use, she’s not his type: she’s fast, she’s brash, she’s too in-your-face. Fregellanus is the staid retiring sort with no experience of women, and if she makes a play for him he’ll probably run a mile. Acutia’s different: he’d go for Acutia in a big way, given time and care. In any case she’s the one who makes the running, and besides maybe she genuinely likes him. She bats her respectable matron’s eyelashes at him, they talk about literature and rocks, and eventually she seduces him. You’re frowning.’

‘Not at the seduction,’ Perilla said. ‘That’s reasonable, and I do take your point about it being the best way to recruit him. But seducing someone like Fregellanus is a completely different thing from persuading him to assassinate one of the top men in Rome. You said it yourself, Marcus: Fregellanus is staid and respectable. Also, according to Sergia Plauta he’s never been interested in politics. Surely he’d need a bigger incentive than just infatuation with Acutia. If that’s what you see his motive as.’

I rubbed my jaw. ‘Yeah. Yeah, okay. Mark that as the first rough spot.’

‘Fine. Duly marked. Go on.’

‘So. We’ve got three conspirators. The fourth to come on board has to be Ahenobarbus, because…’ I paused. ‘Shit, why? On the conspirators’ side, why do they need him? And on his side why should he join? Not hatred or revenge: he’s got nothing against Macro personally that we know of, and he wouldn’t benefit from his death. Added to which, he’s well out of their league, socially and in every other way. There’s no sodding reason for him to be involved!’

‘Rough spot number two, then. Never mind. Carry on.’

‘Right.’ I took another swallow of wine. ‘Ahenobarbus recruits young Papinius — rough spot three, again why? — and lets him into the secret. This is where Mucius Soranus comes in…’

‘Wait a moment. Why should it be Ahenobarbus doing the recruiting? Why not Albucilla?’

‘It’s possible, sure. Not that it matters, because it comes to the same thing in the end and it doesn’t explain the why any better. Still, if Ahenobarbus was responsible it’d fit with getting the kid his fire commission job, because that provides the in for Papinius as far as the conspiracy goes. Also, it’d fit with the timing: three months ago Papinius and his girlfriend Cluvia were still an item. Albucilla didn’t come on the scene until later.’

‘All right. Accepted. Go ahead; Mucius Soranus.’

‘Yeah. I was wrong about him. Soranus wasn’t involved in the actual conspiracy to kill Macro at all, not then, not ever: Albucilla told me that herself, or as good as. When I suggested that she hadn’t wanted any part in the business from the beginning but had gone along with Soranus she just looked at me like I was mad. As far as she and the rest were concerned, Soranus was the spanner in the works. How he found out what was going on I don’t know, and it isn’t important; maybe Papinius said a word out of turn, maybe he overheard something and got suspicious, maybe he just guessed. The bastard was smart, whatever else he was, and he had a nose for secrets. One thing that’s certain, though: Albucilla wasn’t part of the blackmail scam, quite the reverse; she must’ve been spitting blood. That was why the pair split up.’