ODE TO A BANKER

But it was Turius I wanted to harry. The utopian was under extreme pressure now. He was sweating, even though the library remained pleasantly cool, and his agitation had become visible. Whatever the cause, his breaking point looked close.

`Chrysippus had at least enough judgement to keep Avienus quiet for several years! Avienus even achieved the startling coup of making Chrysippus pay off his own loan to deflect demands from his agent Lucrio. Then you rocked the boat, didn't you?' Turius looked hounded, but would not reply. `You hated, Chrysippus for his poor treatment of his authors; you thought he should be pressed as hard as possible. Is that right?' Turius was unable to look at me, desperately unhappy now. `What happened then? You knew the secret too – or at least you knew a secret existed. Did Avienus fear he had lost everything because you interfered? Is that what made the poor beggar kill himself?'

`All right!' Turius cracked, even more easily than I expected. `Don't keep on. I can't bear any more- I am responsible. I killed him!'

Around us a hum of thrilled conversation rose, then died again. I marched Turius back to his former place and sat him down again.

I shook my head sadly. `I hope you feel better for telling us that. Now, in your own interests, say nothing else. This is a rather disturbing development – so, listen everyone.' Raising my voice to command their attention, I nodded to Aelianus to open the doors. `We could all benefit from a short pause. Let's have some refreshments, and then start again.'

The dividing door to the Latin library was then pulled right aside and a flock of slaves marched in, carrying my prepared buffet trays.

LV

PEOPLE LOOKED startled, but a snack never comes amiss. It broke the tension. The slaves mingled, courteously offering titbits and savouries, then little cups of drink. Turius slumped, trembling and covering his face, while the others shrank away from him. Small groups muttered in low voices and occasionally glanced in my direction. I went and sat beside Helena.

`You were wonderful, darling,' she cooed. She always knew how to undermine me if I looked overconfident.

Lucrio strolled up, finishing a mouthful of giant prawn. `How's your mother, Falco?'

`Depressed about her savings, you know that.'

`No need to be.' He had come over on purpose. `Can't mention the amount – but she had it all on sealed deposit.'

I scooped up olives from a passing tray. `What does that mean?'

He sneered at my ignorance. `Sealed or "regular" deposits are literally that: the coins or other valuables are placed in sacks that are formally secured with tags. They have to remain untouched. Irregular deposits are when the banker has the right to use the money in search of profits – invest it in suitable schemes to provide income.'

`For the depositor or for you?' I sneered back.

He ignored that. `Sealed ones remain entirely the property of the depositor, and must be handed back untampered with, on demand. Frankly, the Aurelian believed that was a waste of resources. I tried hard to change Junilla Tacita's mind so her principal would earn for her, but she remained determined.'

This was cheering news. Helena was smiling. `She just wanted to put the money in a safe place, and not take any risks? That's your mother, Marcus! I can just imagine her deciding that nobody else would gamble with her cash!'

Lucrio looked wry. `Seems a very shrewd lady. When we assayed the coins, there was the fewest number of counterfeits and copper "souls that our changer had ever seen in a single batch.'

I chortled. `My mother doesn't just bite all her change to check it – she scares all Hades out of anyone who looks likely to slip her a fake!… What's the position for her, now the bank has failed?'

`The liquidators can't touch her money,' Lucrio admitted offhandedly. Would he have told Ma, had I not asked? `If she wants it back, she should ask.'

`I'll come and get it.'

`She has to appear in person, Falco. Normal procedure,' Lucrio snarled. How sensible. You don't want wicked sons stealing from their poor old mothers.

I had been keeping an eye on the others. The assembly had been given time to relax; now they were looking for seconds from the drinks trays. It was time I unsettled them by calling a halt.

`Thanks, everyone. Could you now please return to your seats?'

I then spent a few moments consulting the head waiter, making sure I was seen making notes of what he told me.

`Sorry to keep you. By the way, that was a little test I ran. When Chrysippus died, we know that his killer stopped outside in the lobby and pinched some nettle flan from his lunch tray.' People shifted uneasily, the bright ones already catching on. `As you may have noticed, the salvers today were quite large. We placed the most expensive and tasty snacks around the rim, within easy reach, while at the centre, where you had to stretch, were portions of nettle flan. I was just checking who took the flan -'