Ode To A Banker by Lindsey Davis Page B

I like to know I'm doing it! What am I supposed to have said?'

    'Witnesses have listed you as one of the dead party's visitors today.'

    'I don't believe it. Who is this?'

    'Man called Aurelius Chrysippus,' Petro told me. He said it matter-of-factly, but he was watching me. 'Battered to death by some maniac a couple of hours ago.'

    'He was perfectly alive when I left him' I wanted to scoff, but I kept my voice level. 'There were plenty of witnesses to that. I only saw him briefly, at his scroll-shop in the Clivus Publicius.'

    Petronius raised an eyebrow genteelly. 'The shop that has a scriptorium at the back of it? And behind the scriptorium, as I am sure you noticed, you can pass through a corridor into the owner's lovely house. Big spread. Nicely finished. It has all the usual luxuries. Now, Didius Falco, didn't you tell me you would like to invite Chrysippus to some quiet place and do him in?' He grinned bleakly. 'We found the body in his library.'

IX

    'WOULD THAT,' enquired Helena Justina in her most refined tones, 'be his Greek or his Latin library?'
    'Greek.' Petro patiently matched her irony. Her eyes narrowed slightly, approving his parry.

    I butted in: 'Was the bastard really so wealthy he could afford two libraries?'

    'The bastard had two,' confirmed Petro. He looked gloomy. So did I.

    'He got his money from fleecing his authors then,' I growled.

    Helena remained calm, full of patrician snootiness, disdainful of Petro's suggestion that her chosen partner might have soiled his hands killing a foreigner who bought and sold goods. 'You had better know, Lucius Petronius, Marcus had words with this man today. Chrysippus had tried to commission work from him - he approached us, mind. Marcus had had no thought of placing his poems before the public gaze.'

    'Well, he wouldn't, would he?' agreed Petro, making it an insult on principle.

    Helena ignored the jibe. 'It turned out the offer was a cheat; Marcus was expected to pay to be published. Naturally Marcus expressed his views in the strongest of terms before he left.'

    'I am glad you told me that,' Petro said gravely. He had probably already known.

    'Always best to be honest' Helena smiled.

    I myself would not have told Petronius anything, and he would not have expected it.

    'Well, officer,' I declared instead. 'I hope you will try very hard to find out who committed this appalling crime.' I stopped simpering. My voice rasped. 'From the little I saw of the Chrysippus operation, it has the smell of a right rat's nest.'

    Petronius Longus, my best friend, my army tent-mate, my drinking pal, drew himself up in a way he liked to do (it showed he was some inches taller than me). He folded his bare arms on his chest, to emphasise his breadth. He grinned. 'Ah, Marcus Didius, old mucker - I was hoping you would help us out.'

    'Oh no!'

    'But yes!'

    'I'm a suspect.'

    'I just cleared you.'

    'Oh Hades! What's the game, Petro?'

    'The Fourth Cohort has enough to do - work up to our lugholes. Half the squad is down with summer fever and the rest are decimated by wives telling the men to bunk off and repair their roof-tiles while the sun's out. We have no manpower to deal with this.'

    'The Fourth is always overworked.' I was losing this dice-game.
    'We really can't cope at present,' Petronius returned placidly.
    'Your tribune won't wear it.'

    'It's July.'

    'So?'

    'Darling Rubella is on leave.'

    'His villa at Neapolis?' I scoffed.

    'Positanum.' Petronius beamed. 'I'm covering for him. And I say we need to buy in expertise.'

    Had Helena not been there, I might have accused him of wanting free time to pursue some new woman. There was little affection between the vigiles and private informers. They saw us as devious political sneaks; we knew they were incompetent thugs. They could put out fires. It was the real reason for their existence. They had only become involved with law and order because vigiles patrols out fire-watching at night had run across so many