"Davis, Lindsey - Falco 15 - The Accusers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Lindsey)

`He died. I heard it was suicide.'

`Did you believe it?'

'No reason to doubt,' I said - at once starting to do so. `It makes sense as an inheritance device. He freed his heirs from the burden of the compensation he owed you.'

`Apparently! And what's your view?'

I formed one quickly: `You want to challenge the cause of death?'

`Being paid would be more convenient than letting them off.' Silius leaned back, his hands folded. I noticed a cabochon beryllium seal ring on one hand, a cameo on a thumb, a thick gold band marked like a belt buckle on the other hand. His actual belt was four inches wide, heavy leather, wrapped around a very clean fine wool tunic in plain white with the senatorial trim. The tunic had been carefully laundered; the purple dye had not yet leached into the white. `I won the case, so I don't personally lose -' he began.

`Except in time and expenses.' At the rough end, we were rarely paid time and expenses, and never at the glorious rates this man must command.

Silius snorted. `Oh I can wave goodbye to the time charges. It's the million and a quarter winnings I prefer not to lose!'

A million and a quarter? I managed to keep my expression blank. `I was unaware of the compensation limit.' He had paid us four hundred, which included a mule allowance for the ride Justinus took; we had bumped up the travel costs in accordance with the customs of our trade, but compared with his great windfall, our return wouldn't buy us a piss in a public lavatory.

`Of course I share it with my junior,' Silius grumbled.

`Quite.' I hid my bad feeling. His junior was a snivelling scrivener called Honorius. It was Honorius who had dealt with me. He looked about eighteen and gave the impression he had never seen a woman naked. How much of the million and a quarter sesterces would Honorius take home to his mother? Too much. The dozy incompetent had been convinced that our witness lived in Lavinium, not Lanuvium; he tried to avoid paying us; and when he did write out a docket for their banker, he misspelled my name three times.

The banker, by contrast, had coughed up quickly, and was polite. Bankers stay alert. He could tell that by that stage anyone else who upset me would have been sodomised with a very sharp spear.

I sensed further stress coming at me over the horizon on a fast Spanish pony.

`So why did you want to see me, Silius?,

'Obvious, surely?' It was, but I refused to help him. `You work in this field.' He tried to make it sound like a compliment. `You already have a connection with the case.'

My connection was remote. I should have kept it that way. Perhaps my next question was naive. `So what do you want me for?'

`I want you to prove that it was not suicide.'

`What am I going for? Accident or foul play?'

`Whatever you like,' said Silius. `I am not fussy, Falco. Just find me suitable evidence to take the remaining Metelli to court and wring them dry.'

I had been slumped on a stool at his table. He had not offered me refreshments (no doubt sensing I would refuse them lest we be trapped in a guest/host relationship). But on arrival, I had assumed equal terms, and seated myself. Now I sat up. `I never manufacture proofs!'

`I never asked you to.'

I stared at him.

'Rubirius Metellus did not take his own life, Falco,' Silius told me impatiently. `He enjoyed being a bastard - he enjoyed it far too much to give it up. He had been riding high, at the top of his talent, dubious though it was. And he was a coward, anyway. Proof of something that will suit me is there to be had, and I shall pay you well to look for it.'

I stood up and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. `This type of investigation has a special rate. I'll send along my scale of charges -'

He shrugged. He was not at all afraid of being stung. He had the confidence that only comes with the backing of huge collateral. `We use investigators all the time. Pass your fees to Honorius.'