Ode To A Banker Part 23

'Lucrio. I am afraid I bring sad news. Tell me, does a loan-contract end when one of your debtors dies?'

'No chance. We claim on the estate.'

'Why am I not surprised?'

'Which of our clients is dead?' he asked making it seem like mere curiosity.

'Poor Avienus, the historian.'

'Zeus! He was only young. What happened to him?' Wide-eyed and startled - apparently - the freedman stared at me.

'Suicide.'

'Ah!' At once Lucrio stopped asking questions. I bet this was not the first hara.s.sed defaulter who had taken that desperate escape route.

'Don't blame yourself,' I said, two-faced as a businessman myself. (It was surely not coincidence that the bankers liked to congregate in a place named for Ja.n.u.s?) 'Apparently, he had secured that loan of his on his old mother's house. She will be distraught to lose both her son and her home - but I dare say it is out of the question for the bank to forget his debt?'

Then Lucrio surprised me. 'The contract was already torn up, Falco.'

'Kind-heartedness? Is there profit in that att.i.tude?' I scoffed.

'No - but Avienus had cleared the debt.'

I was shocked. I could not believe it. I remembered what Lucrio had told me previously. If Avienus had paid up, he must have found the money through another loan. So when that fell due, his widowed mother would just be pursued by some new lender. 'Do you know who remortgaged him?'

'He maintained,' Lucrio said thoughtfully, 'that there was no covering loan. He just produced the cash. We don't quibble over that! He must have had a windfall, mustn't he?'

'Did you,' I asked, 'have a succinct personal word with him, before he paid?'

'Regularly.' Lucrio knew I was suggesting he had used threats. 'Very quiet and calm. Thoroughly professional. I hope, Falco, you are not slandering my business methods by implying harsh tactics?'

'You don't employ enforcers?'

'Not allowed,' he a.s.sured me smoothly. 'Legally in Rome, to ask a third party to collect debts, counts as pa.s.sing on the loan to them. We keep ours in the family. Besides, our preference is only to deal with those we know, and know we can trust to pay.'

'Yet Avienus had great difficulty with his debt.'

'A temporary embarra.s.sment. He did pay. That proves my point. He was a highly-valued member of our circle,' said the freedman unblus.h.i.+ngly. 'We are very sad to lose him from among our customers.'

That settled it for me. I was now convinced this lying deviant sent Avienus to his death.

I went and saw Nothokleptes. He was at his barber's again. I was starting to think he slept there in the chair overnight. It would save paying rent. He would like that.

The barber had two customers waiting, so in the traditional manner of his trade he was slowing down. Nothokleptes drew me aside and let another man take the chair.

'Have you heard,' I asked quietly, 'that a client of the Aurelian Bank committed suicide rather strangely on the Probus Bridge?'

'Word was going around the Forum first thing this morning.' Nothokleptes smiled in a sad Egyptian way. 'Suicide, was it? Very ancient traditions apply in Greek banking, Falco.'

'Apparently! You warned me about Lucrio. I had the impression you regard him as dangerous - so would he ever use enforcers?'

'Of course he does.' For once Nothokleptes actually signalled his barber to back away and leave us to talk in private.

'He pretended it's virtually illegal.'

'It virtually is.' Nothokleptes was so calm about it, I wondered if he used enforcers himself. I did not ask.

'Right! I meant, really violent ones.'

'He would call them "firm", Falco.'

'So firm they would be prepared to make ghastly examples of defaulting clients?'

'Oh, no banker ever hurts defaulting clients,' Nothokleptes reproved me. 'He wants them to come back and pay.'

I persuaded him to talk to me more generally about how bankers - or at least Greek bankers - worked. Nothokleptes painted a picture of Athenian secrecy, often involving tax avoidance, the hidden economy, and the disguising of their real wealth by the elite. As he saw it - in his self-righteous Egyptian way - his rivals had notoriously tight-knit networking relations.h.i.+ps with clients who were treated almost as family members. Much of what he knew had come to light as a result of court cases involving fraud - significant in itself.

'Of course the biggest scandal ever was the Opisthodomos fire - the Treasurers of Athene had a clandestine arrangement where they illegally loaned sacred funds to bankers. They were planning to use the "borrowed" cash to make huge profits. They failed to realise the expected yield, could not replace the capital, and to hide the fraud, the Opisthodomos - where the money was supposed to be secured untouched - was burnt. The priests were jailed for that.'

'And the bankers?'

Nothokleptes shrugged and grinned.

'But I suppose the bankers could not entirely be blamed, Nothokleptes. The priests chose to steal the funds and to use banking confidentiality to hide their own misappropriation of the sacred treasure.'

'Right, Falco. And the poor bankers were innocents, misled by their awe for their religious clients.'

I laughed. 'And has the Aurelian ever made mistakes?'

'It would be slander to say so!'

'Would you say then,' I asked, 'that the Aurelian is straight?'

Nothokleptes hardly paused. 'It once had a rough reputation - Lysa and Chrysippus started out here as ropy old loan sharks, in essence. There has been talk. Lucrio is generally considered hard but straight.'

'How hard?'

'Too hard. But if Lucrio is behind this death at the Probus Bridge, if he actually wants it made public that he has rough-handled a client, then he has stepped well outside normal practice. His reason must be special too.' Nothokleptes was leading me somewhere.

'What does that cryptic p.r.o.nouncement mean?'

'There is a curious whisper that the "suicide" had made threats against the bank.'

'What threats?'

That was all Nothokleptes would say. Possibly, it was all he knew. He could not say which enforcers the Aurelian Bank patronised - apparently there were debt-collecting specialists aplenty - but he thought he could find out for me. He promised to send word as soon as possible, then he scuttled back to the barber's chair.

I had a sour taste as I walked back across the Forum. I went to the baths, as I was in the area. At the gym, Glaucus commented that I was taking him through a training exercise as though I wanted to break somebody's neck. He hoped it was not his. When I said no, it was a banker's, he lowered his voice and asked me if I could confirm that one of the big deposit-takers was about to liquidate. Glaucus had heard from his customers that people in the know were withdrawing their deposits and burying their money in the corners of fields.

I said that would help thieves, wouldn't it? And did he know which fields?

He had genuine anxiety. After I limped out, I decided on an early lunch, at home. I skirted the Palatine, keeping on the flat as much as possible; Glaucus knew how to punish me for cheek. I staggered round the end of the Circus, and then walked slowly up the slope of the Clivus Publicius.

It was weeks since I had been at the Chrysippus house. I liked to keep an eye on scenes of unsolved deaths. And it was still rather early to reappear at Fountain Court, so on an impulse I went into the house. As usual, a slave on the door merely nodded when he saw me enter. He probably knew me and knew that I was being allowed to borrow the Latin library. Still, I had come without an appointment and once indoors, I could have wandered anywhere.

Without a clear idea of what I wanted, I walked through the little lobby and into the library I had used as an interview room. For a moment I stood soaking in the atmosphere. Then, hearing a slight noise, I crossed to the room-divider, which had now been pulled across, dragged open a peeking-in s.p.a.ce and surveyed the Greek section. I was amazed to see Pa.s.sus. I had thought all the vigiles had been pulled from this case. (Was Petronius wanting somebody to spy on me?) Pa.s.sus was seated at a table, intently reading. My empty stomach must have let out a gurgle, because he looked up and flushed rather guiltily.

'Pa.s.sus!'

'You made me jump, Falco. The chief just reminded me I was supposed to catalogue these scrolls for you.'

Great G.o.ds, I had forgotten all about that. 'Thanks. Found anything? You looked totally absorbed.'

He grinned shyly. 'I must admit I started reading one and found it interesting.'

'What is this great work of literature?'

'Oh, it seems to be called Gondomon, King of Traximene - just an adventure tale.'

'Who wrote it?'

'Well, that's what I'm struggling to find out,' Pa.s.sus told me. 'I sorted out most of the scrolls, but I'm left with some that were badly mangled and messed-up. I am having to piece them together and I have not yet found the t.i.tle pages of the last couple. They may have been ripped off in the fight.'

He had the furtive air of a reader who had been thoroughly hooked; he could hardly bear to break off and talk to me. Immediately I left him, he would plunge into the thrilling scroll again. An author's dream.

Grinning, I walked back quietly through the lobby. There I was in for a second surprise, one that seemed far more significant. Coming here as an unexpected visitor had certainly paid off: in the main reception area two women were taking leave of each other, embracing like sisters. One had a slight air of reserve, yet she permitted her effusive companion to kiss her, and herself returned the salutation quite naturally.

Which was odd - because the women were Vibia Merulla and Lysa, the woman she supposedly ousted from the Chrysippus marriage bed. I made a quick choice between them. Both were tricky, but one was more experienced. I always like my challenges to be as difficult as possible. When Lysa's covered litter left the house and Vibia disappeared up a staircase, I set off hotfoot to follow Lysa.

x.x.xVII.

THE OLD lady with the shopping was out again, still trying to be knocked down by thieves; as she blundered vaguely down the hill, I had to dance around her. I caught up with my quarry near the bottom of the Clivus. Calling Lysa's name as I ran down the street persuaded the litter-bearers that I was a safe acquaintance and they set down their burden so I could speak to her. I pulled aside the modesty curtain and leaned in through the half-door.

'Lysa!' I saluted her, grinning as I got my breath. 'You're looking lovely! Are you a bride yet?'

She was richly clad, though in restrained taste. The heavy gold necklace looked like a Greek antique; it would certainly have cost enough to make Vibia jealous. Lysa coped with the summer heat by covering up - long sleeves and dark material in her gown. No trace of perspiration marred the olive skin. Her eye colours were lightly applied, so they would not run, and from within the enclosed s.p.a.ce of the carrying chair a draught of expensive perfume rose sensually.

'What do you want, Falco?'

'I think I must be dreaming. I could swear I just saw you embracing the widow up the street.'

If she was annoyed at being under surveillance, she hid it well. 'Vibia and I have a civilised relations.h.i.+p.'

I whistled. I could remember Lysa calling Vibia a 'little cow'. 'I thought you hated giving up your husband to her. How come you are now cooing like love birds?'

'Hardly that!'

Vibia is still living in your old home, I see.' This time my probing produced slightly narrowed eyes. 'Was the house included with the scriptorium in her inheritance?'

'I gave it to her as a gift,' conceded Lysa, rather reluctantly. I whistled. 'Some gift!'

'I have a generous nature.' Even Lysa could see this was ridiculous.She was a businesswoman with iron talons. 'Oh, it's no secret. Vibia extracted it from me.'

'How?'

'Never mind.'

'You said it was not a secret.'

'Well - it was her price for helping to arrange something...' When I looked sceptical, Lysa was forced to explain. 'Diomedes is to be married to a young relative of Vibia's.'

'My word, your family does love weddings! Are you planning a joint ceremony the day you hitch up with Lucrio? What thrilling news for Diomedes too - good match?'

Lysa calmly ignored my jibes. 'A charming girl. Elegant and cultured - and from a prime family. Good people, with plenty of connections.' Ah! I had thought Vibia common, but that was a response to her personal behaviour; it by no means ruled out social rank. Plenty of solid citizens have female relations who sound like scallop-sellers and who overdo the face powder. Lysa continued, 'They have been clients of the bank for years, of course; we know them very well.'

'Your son is on his way then?'

Lysa smiled contentedly. 'Oh yes,' she a.s.sured me. 'Everything is perfect now.'

I let her go. Another cameo for me to add to my curious collection.

The old dame with the shopping basket tottered up at that point and had a good stare at me. I could tell she regarded herself as a guardian of community life. Some hara.s.sed fellow's mother, no doubt. She was the kind who plies to and fro, collecting half a cabbage then returning for a sprat, hoping to brighten her day with a chance to spy on strangers.

When I retraced my footsteps, I nearly stopped at the corner popina. Again, the waiter was standing there - a tall, thin-faced young fellow in a short leather ap.r.o.n, keenly watching me. They were a nosy lot in this Clivus. His stare put me off. I knew the bar was the authors' meeting place. The waiter had that infallible air of wanting to chat, whether I liked it or not. Distrustful, I kept going.

I might have gone to tackle Vibia, but instead I met Euschemon, the same s.h.a.ggy, shambling bundle with his usual unkempt hair and an abstracted expression. He was leaving the scriptorium but paused for a chat. I told him about the affectionate scene I had witnessed, wondering if it would affect his former loyalty. 'I don't know how they can do it!' he grumbled.

'What's that?'

'People are strange, Falco.'

'True. I was surprised to hear about this marriage. It sounded as if Vibia is being used by the Chrysippus family as Diomedes' social vaulting horse?'

'Oh, the Chrysippi obtain high interest rates from everyone,' said Euschemon cryptically. He refused to be drawn further, but I was beginning to understand what he meant. Diomedes must have had the path to social acceptance carefully mapped out for him. Did the scheme go right back to his father's own remarriage? I wondered. Was Vibia Merulla just part of the advancement plan Chrysippus worked out for his son? And if so, did Lysa know all along?

'Euschemon, I thought Vibia did not look quite as happy as Lysa was.'

He laughed under his breath. 'Well, she wouldn't.'

'Why is that?'

'I could not comment, Falco.'