Free Finished Business by David Wishart

the thought. No relation whatsoever, not even by marriage. But I am looking into his death. Purely as a favour, you understand.’
    ‘Surdinus is dead?’ Otillius took away his hand. He could’ve been faking it, sure, but the surprise on his face and in his voice looked and sounded real.
    ‘Yeah. As of five days ago.’ I was watching him carefully for signs of further imminent head-bangership. Or whatever the phrase is. They were all there, in spades. Bugger. ‘Someone dropped a lump of stone on top of him.’
    The surprised look slowly turned into a grin, and it broadened.
    ‘Well, bully for them,’ he said. ‘You know who did it?’
    ‘Not yet. I told you, I’m just looking into things at present.’
    ‘You shake them by the hand for me, then, when you do.’
    ‘So you haven’t seen your wife – Tarquitia – for almost a year?’ I said, straightening the tunic.
    ‘That’s right. Since she took up serious with the old lecher and moved in with him.’
    I shook my head. ‘She didn’t do that. He set her up in a flat somewhere.’
    ‘News to me. Mind you, she’d keep that quiet, to stop me gatecrashing the happy home. Which I would’ve done if I’d known where the fuck it was.’
    ‘You didn’t?’
    ‘Uh-uh. Me, I thought she’d be up at that fancy villa of his on Vatican Hill. She talked about it enough when she met him first, but I wasn’t going to try anything there.’ He was still grinning. ‘You’ve spilled your wine. Let me get you another cup. Shit, this is the best news I’ve had in a month.’
    ‘No, that’s OK, pal.’ The tabletop was the best place for the stuff. I could just see it eating into the wood. ‘I’m fine. So you won’t, uh, have heard about the property he sold her?’
    ‘What property? And how the hell could Tarquitia afford any kind of property? She hadn’t two copper pieces to rub together.’
    ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. Nothing of much value.’ I put my empty cup down on the table. Evidently, the worst was over. Hopefully, at any rate. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. ‘You care to tell me how she met this guy? At a dinner party, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Yeah, that’s right.’ He looked over my shoulder towards the counter and lifted an arm. ‘Hey, Barrio!’ he shouted. ‘Bring us a top-up over here, will you? My bill.’ Bugger. Then, turning back to me: ‘Queer thing, that was.’
    ‘Yeah? In what way queer?’ I said. Well, at least he was talking normally. All in all, a promising sign.
    ‘Tarquitia usually works – worked – with a girl called Hermia. She played the double-flute, Hermia I mean, while Tarquitia did whatever other bits they or the customer’d decided on. Singing, dancing, cartwheels, that sort of thing. It was a pretty good arrangement. Hermia’s a natural on the flute, but she’s no beauty, what with her squint, and she couldn’t throw a cartwheel to save herself. Tarquitia’s the opposite.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So they’ve got a gig arranged for that evening. Only at the last minute Tarquitia tells Hermia that she’s done a swap. There’s another couple of girls booked for that dinner party I told you about, and she’s arranged with one of them to take her place.’ He shrugged. ‘Didn’t make no difference to the two sets of punters, of course; they were both getting what they paid for. Odd thing was, Tarquitia and the other flautist had worked together once or twice before, and it hadn’t worked out.’
    ‘Hang on, pal,’ I said. ‘Are you saying …’ I paused while Barrio came over with the jug and filled our cups. ‘Are you saying that Tarquitia was only at the dinner party where she met Surdinus because she made a switch at the last minute with one of the team who’d originally been booked?’
    ‘Yeah.’ He picked up his cup and drank. Inwardly, I winced. ‘Strange how these things happen, isn’t it? If she hadn’t done the swap she’d never even’ve seen the bastard.’
    Strange was right. Or maybe not.