Free Illegally Dead by David Wishart Page B

‘We’re teaching her not to eat it.’
    ‘Successfully?’
    ‘Not quite. But we’re almost there. She stopped half way through.’
    Placida got in a substantial lick across my mouth and nose before he manhandled her to the ground. I gagged and reached for a napkin. There wasn’t one.
    ‘How did your talk with Veturina go, Corvinus?’ Marilla asked.
    ‘Tie that foul brute to the railings and I’ll tell you,’ I said, wiping my face on my tunic-sleeve.
    She did, and I did.
    ‘So you don’t think she was responsible after all?’ Marilla said when I’d finished.
    ‘Let’s say there’s a strong possibility that she wasn’t. As things go, anyway.’
    ‘So who was?’ Clarus said.
    I gave him the suspect list that I’d just run past Perilla. Such as it was. ‘You help me with any of these?’ I said.
    ‘Not much. Acceius has a good name locally. He’s honest, he’s well liked, and he’s respectable. Also, he’s a top-notch lawyer. The general opinion, far as I’ve heard, is that Castrimoenium’s lucky to have him. He could’ve done a lot better for himself in Rome or somewhere else big like Naples or Capua.’
    ‘That so, now?’ I said. ‘General opinion say why he hasn’t?’
    ‘No. But it doesn’t suggest any reason why he couldn’t’ve done, if that’s what you’re asking.’
    I grinned. ‘Well done, pal. Yeah, that was about it. What about his relations with Hostilius? Or lack of them?’
    ‘Positive again. He’s had a lot of sympathy locally, mostly for not dissolving the partnership, going it alone and landing the guy a sock on the jaw for good measure long ago.’
    ‘Maybe he couldn’t, for some reason. Financial or otherwise.’
    ‘Pass.’
    Well, that was fair enough. Clarus might be sharp, but he wasn’t omniscient. ‘What about his wife?’ What was her name again? ‘Uh...Seia Lucinda? Hostilius claimed she was having an affair with Castor, or so Scopas told me. Anything in that?’
    ‘Pass. Look, Corvinus, Castrimoenium may be a small place but we don’t live completely in one another’s pockets. And me, I don’t have either the time or inclination to listen to gossip. Ask your pal Gabba. He might be able to help more.’
    Yeah, good idea; I probably would, at that, if I could find some way of keeping prim-and-proper Pontius from blowing the whistle and calling time. ‘Okay. Leave Acceius. Castor.’
    ‘Sorry again. At least, I’ve seen him, but –’
    ‘I know Castor,’ Marilla said. She was over by the railings, keeping Placida quiet and relatively civilised.
    ‘What?’ Clarus whipped round.
    ‘Only slightly. We’ve talked in the street, once or twice. He likes animals. He’s tall with brown eyes and brown curly hair, and he’s very good looking.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Clarus, he’s ancient! Thirty-five, at least.’
    I grinned. ‘Actually, if you remember, we’d got the guy’s physical description already from Hyperion, Princess,’ I said. ‘In essence, at any rate, barring the fine details you seem to have noticed. Anything you can add to it? If you can stop drooling long enough, that is.’
    Clarus snorted.
    ‘Marcus!’ Perilla said.
    ‘He’s very serious,’ Marilla said. ‘When you speak to him, I mean. He actually talks. And he wants to be a lawyer himself.’
    ‘Does he, indeed?’ I said. ‘Anything else about him?’
    ‘He’s very grateful to his sister. And to Quintus Acceius.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘I don’t know. I just got that impression from how he talked about them. When he did.’
    ‘How about to Lucius Hostilius?’
    ‘No, he didn’t like him at all. And it was mutual.’
    Well, that was understandable, given what I knew so far. ‘You, uh, seem to’ve had quite a cosy chat with this guy, Princess,’ I said. Beside me Clarus was grinding his teeth.
    She coloured. ‘Not all at once,’ she said. ‘We’ve bumped into each other maybe four or five times since last summer. And as I said, he talks.’
    ‘Talks too