ODE TO A BANKER

`Chrysippus, who had preserved himself by paying up for years, continued doing so. It is ironical, but to keep the secret in my opinion he gave Avienus the money to settle with Lucrio. In effect, he paid off a loan he himself had originally granted. Well, banking is a complex business! Avienus must really have loved it.'

`This is all speculation,' grumbled Lucrio.

`That's right,' I agreed. `So let's have a little confirmation…' I signalled to Aelianus who was standing by the dividing door. `Aulus, will you ask Passus to send Pisarchus in, please? Oh, and don't let's split up a family; let's have his son here as well.'

LIV

SHUFFLING IN together, the shipper and his youngest boy were physically dissimilar. Both nervous at entering a room full of people, all of whom looked strained, they edged through the gap when the door was held open briefly. Aelianus seated them on the furthermost row of benches. They perched there, the broad, active, sunburned father and his city-pallid skinny and ascetic son. Their faces possessed the same type of bone structure, however. They sat close together, as if they were on friendly terms.

I explained quietly that we had been talking about the death of the historian Avienus, and the possibility that he was blackmailing Chrysippus.

Pisarchus and his son glanced at one another, then tried to pretend they had not. Interesting. I reckoned the blackmail was not news.

`Pisarchus, can I ask you something, please? The other day, when you came to the vigiles' patrol-house voluntarily, we – that is, the enquiry chief and I – I nodded towards Petronius – `assumed you wanted to give evidence in the Aurelius Chrysippus death. In fact, it transpired you had been away in Praeneste and had not even known that Chrysippus was dead.'

Pisarchus inclined his head. He was becoming more relaxed. I hoped this was due to my calm handling of the situation and reassurance. On the other hand, he had always seemed to be a selfpossessed man. He was careful, yet I felt he had nothing much to hide.

`So whose death had you come to talk about?' When he did not reply, I pressed him. `It was Avienus, wasn't it?'

Pisarchus reluctantly agreed.

`What were you going to tell us?'

Pisarchus glanced sideways at his son again. 'I can't say.'

`Then maybe you can,' I said, turning to Philomelus. `Waiters do not have to swear a vow of confidentiality. Only doctors have a Hippocratic oath – though of course bankers' – I winked at Lucrio – 'are protected by law from giving details of clients' accounts! Priests,'

I mused, `might make moral claims or just as likely they might lie to protect temple benefactors.' I flicked a glance at Diomedes. `Now, Philomelus, you are under no obligation. Avienus is dead – and let me help you here. I already know that Avienus had confided to another party that he had discovered some scandal. He was very drunk, so I assume this conversation took place over a beaker well, several – at the popina where you work. I guess you overheard?'

Young Philomelus swallowed, neither confirming nor denying it.

`The confidant was Turius – he told us that himself.' Philomelus looked relieved. `So, Philomelus, you heard Avienus say that Chrysippus was paying him to keep quiet?'

Philomelus had nodded before he thought about it.

`You agree? Thanks.' Looking thoughtful, I walked back slowly to the row of authors. `Tiberius Turius! It would have saved us a lot of effort if you had told us this before.' I strode right up to him and hauled him to his feet, dragging him out into the centre of the room. `That's a nice tunic! And I do admire your belt. Lovely tooling on the leather. Striking buckle – is that enamel northern work, or did you buy it here in Rome? Turius, let's be frank – one thing that strikes me is that you don't look as an impoverished author should. Especially one who suffers from health problems so he never produces any work.'

Turius shook off my grip from his shoulder, and straightened the sleeve of his tunic. `Leave me alone, Falco.'

`Wasn't it more "leave me alone, Turius" or so Avienus found? Didn't you decide to cash in too? Didn't you force Avienus to demand more from Chrysippus, so you could take a share?'

`Don't be ridiculous,' Turius muttered.

`Oh? Did you go directly to Chrysippus yourself?'

`No!'

`Really? Let's see; what do I know about you? You complained to me about Chrysippus treating his authors like slaves. And you had been flagrantly indiscreet: you openly refused to flatter him, and you ridiculed his critical powers.'

`He had no judgement!' snarled Turius. He turned to his colleagues. `Well, you know all about that, Pacuvius!' It was Pacuvius, Scrutator, who had told Helena about Turius; I made a mental note to find out why Turius thought Scrutator had a special literary grievance.