Free Finished Business by David Wishart Page A

Jupiter, what was going on here? ‘So what happened then?’
    ‘Way she told it to me, she was throwing a cartwheel that went wrong and she landed up on Surdinus’s couch. Pure accident, it happens sometimes, and it was too clumsy to be intentional because she made him spill his drink all over his party mantle. She apologized – not that he’d be complaining, mind – and when they’d finished the act he asked her and the other girl to stay. There wasn’t no funny business, at least that’s what she said, it wasn’t that sort of party, and she didn’t start any, either. They just talked. She’s a good talker, Tarquitia.’ He took another swallow of his wine. ‘Leastways, that’s what the little bitch told me at the time. Far as I knew, that was the end of it. Only half a month later I come home and she’s cleared out, leaving me a note to say they’re an item. You seen her?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Tarquitia. You seen her, yourself, recently?’
    ‘Yeah. Over at the villa, as it happens. The one on the Vatican.’
    ‘She OK? Healthy enough, and that?’
    ‘She seemed so, yeah.’
    He grunted and drank again. ‘Did she mention any plans she might have? A great little planner, she is. One of the best, and always was. “You’ve got to have a plan, Titus,” she’d say to me. “Plans make the world go round. They make the future. Without a plan, you’re going nowhere.”’
    ‘No,’ I said cautiously. ‘She didn’t have any plans. Not ones that she talked about, anyway.’ I wasn’t going to mention the Old Villa, let alone the other stuff. Including the will. Otillius hadn’t seemed a bad guy to me, certainly not bad enough to justify Vulpis’s description of him as a head-banger. Or not latterly, anyway. But then when I’d given him the news of Surdinus’s death I’d obviously been slotted into the ‘bosom buddy’ category – which had been absolutely fine by me, of course, because as a result he’d blossomed like a rose. However, if he found out that his wife was fair set to owning property worth the best part of half a million, I’d bet that’d be a completely different story. Liar and con-artist though the lady might be – and that aspect of things was pretty much beyond doubt, now – I couldn’t be the one to finger her. They’d have to work things out for themselves, if push ever came to shove. That side of things wasn’t my business, and I wanted no part of it.
    There was always the chance, too – an outside one, I admitted, but a chance none the less – that Otillius had been stringing me along; that he’d been responsible for Surdinus’s death himself. He’d certainly had motive, whatever the points against.
    ‘Anyway,’ he was saying, ‘you tell her. Tarquitia. If you see her again. You tell her that if she wants to come back it’ll be fine with me. No problems, none at all. Clean slate. OK?’
    ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘OK. I’ll do that.’ I stood up.
    ‘You haven’t drunk your wine.’
    Fuck; he’d noticed. ‘Nah. I’m not much of a one for wine, me,’ I said. ‘A sip or two now and again. Maybe two cups at the Winter Festival, just to celebrate, if it’s well-watered.’ I passed the cup over. ‘You have it, pal. Enjoy. I’ll see you around.’
    I left.
    Hmm. Quite a lot to think about there. On top of everything else.
    Enough for the day. Back to the Caelian.

TEN
    ‘I t was a set-up,’ I said to Perilla as Bathyllus served us our pre-dinner drinks in the atrium. ‘She planned the whole thing.’
    ‘Evidently so, dear.’ Perilla sipped her carrot-juice cocktail. The lady was experimenting with vegetables. You do not want to know. ‘But what I don’t understand is how she did it.’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘Well, if she’d targeted Surdinus specifically then she must have known that he would be at the dinner party. That could be the only reason for swapping places with the other girl.’
    ‘Maybe she didn’t. Target him specifically. Maybe she