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Authors: Alison Morton

Tags: #alternate history, #fantasy, #historical, #military, #Rome, #SF

Successio (9 page)

BOOK: Successio
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‘We’ve trapped your little bird.’

*

‘She was on the Italian border in a hire car when some bright spark in the border guard spotted her.’ He consulted the screen. ‘Fake passport. Turns out to be a Brit called Sandbrook, ex-armed forces.’

He turned from his screen and fixed me with a stern eye. ‘Now suppose you tell me what’s going on here, Colonel?’

I glanced at the investigator, Pelonia, who was running the case. ‘Would you excuse us for a few minutes, Inspector?’

Lurio nodded and she left, none too happy by the look on her face to be thrown out of her own office.

‘Well?’

‘Have you done all the prelims?’

‘Yes. And?’

‘Including DNA?’

‘Well, she’s a foreigner. She’s hardly likely to match up, is she?’

‘You may be surprised. Can you run it discreetly?’

‘Why? Who is she?’ He smirked. ‘Not your long-lost sister?’

‘No, but she may be Conradus’s daughter.’

*

I was on my thousandth cup of tea when Lurio came back.

‘You’re right. We ran it against Tella DNA. It’s a match with very little deviation in the markers.’

Hades.

He glanced down at me. ‘How do you want to play this? Will you bail her?’

‘No way. What did you detain her on?’

‘Acting suspiciously on a public highway.’

‘Well, draw up a formal charge of misdirection of minors and corruption of youth. I’ll sign the papers now.’ I could hear the hard tone in my voice. It was only a glimmer of what I was feeling inside. The seriousness of the charge would ensure she’d be held in custody for the whole twenty-eight days pre-trial – the same period Allegra had to serve as her punishment.

‘Jupiter, that’s hard, Bruna. Are you sure?’

‘Oh yes. The formal complainant is Allegra, of course.’

‘Very well.’

He called Pelonia in and she did the paperwork, her dark head bending over the print-outs. She fixed me with a steady gaze from her grey eyes as she passed the file over to me for signing.

‘I must offer you my apologies for asking you to step out, Inspector. I didn’t mean to undermine your authority. But I think you understand why.’

‘Yes. I see now. We’ll keep it confidential until it becomes critical to the investigation. Of course, it’ll come out when it goes to court.’

‘Thank you. Here’s the direct number for Senior Centurion Flavius who led the surveillance operation. He’ll clue you in and make the team available for you to interview. You’ll get full cooperation, I assure you. My daughter will be available when convenient to you. Just call me.’

Pelonia thanked me and took herself off, presumably to begin questioning.

‘Do you want to see her?’ Lurio asked as we walked down the corridor.

‘No, thanks. I want as little to do with her as possible.’

Lurio gave me one of his ‘don’t bullshit me’ looks.

‘Look, I don’t want to, okay?’

‘Chicken?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I glanced up at him. Hades’ teeth, he was right. I flicked my hand backwards to hide my embarrassment. ‘Oh, very well, let’s go stare at her if it’ll make you happy,’ I grumped, but now I was curious.

In the custody suite, I watched Nicola through the observation window as she answered the DJ interrogator’s questions. Her hair was loose now, straggling, darker than I remembered but her eyes were exactly the colour of Conrad’s. Why hadn’t I spotted that in England? Because I hadn’t been looking. She wore the standard bright yellow prison tunic; one wrist was cuffed to the plastic-topped table. I felt a fleeting wave of sympathy. It didn’t last when I heard her tell the DJ interrogator sitting opposite her to go fuck a sheep. He gave a contemptuous laugh back.

Pelonia was relaxed, shoulders glued to the back wall, one leg bent at the knee so her foot was flat to the wall. She looked bored and was examining the nails on her left hand with intense interest. Lurio and I listened in for around ten minutes. Pelonia and the other DJ
custos
swapped and she turned into the bad cop now, quite frightening when she got going. But they weren’t getting anywhere. It didn’t help that they were forced to do it all in English.

‘Do you want to go in?’

I was sorely tempted; I wanted to beat Nicola to a pulp for what she’d done to Allegra and what she was doing to Conrad.

‘No, it’ll contaminate the process. I’m only here as
parens per procurationem
for Allegra. Some smartass lawyer would use it to throw it out. I want this little bitch to go down.’

More importantly I wanted Conrad to see what she was.

Lurio walked me back to my car. I’d thrown it in the nearest space at an angle.

‘Lurio, promise me you’ll keep her in custody for the statutory twenty-eight. She’s a crafty tough egg and’ll try to find some way to slide her way out.’

‘And suppose your husband turns up armed with a fancy lawyer?’

‘You know what the law says. Tell him no.’

IX

I reached home only to find regular Praetorians on the gate and more in the courtyard. The guard saluted correctly, but didn’t risk a single muscle on his face by smiling. A slightly anxious Galienus greeted me with news that the imperatrix was here.

‘Yeah, I got that, Gally, from the toy soldiers outside.’ But I smiled at him to take the sting out of my tone. I made my way through the vestibule into the atrium. Another one. Juno, how dangerous did they think our house was? I waved her aside and went upstairs, but she trailed up behind me. I arrived just as Silvia came out of Aurelia’s bedroom. She looked pale, her eyes glistening, but she was keeping it together. Aurelia wasn’t only her senior cousin, but her counsellor of many years, back to the time of the rebellion.

‘Silvia.’

‘Oh, gods, Carina. It’s so wrong.’ She held out both hands which I gripped and squeezed in sympathy.

‘Hey, come and sit down for a minute.’ I drew her down on to the day couch and, ignoring the damn guard, fixed her a fruit juice. She rarely drank alcohol during the day.

‘Aurelia will have been so pleased to see you.’

Silvia looked strained, the white amongst her glorious red-brown hair was gaining more ground. She was only in her mid-fifties, but the loss of her husband all those years ago had been a savage blow. She’d married Andrea Luca, when she was barely twenty, only two years after returning to Roma Nova. Nonna had reckoned Silvia needed stability and kindness after forcible exile following the terror of Caius’s rebellion. Andrea was an Italian academic who’d led the team clearing and restoring buildings damaged during the rebellion and the take-back. He’d loved Silvia deeply and supported her through the tough years when although still young, she had to rule a ruined country attempting to re-establish itself. On their sixth anniversary, he was diagnosed with cancer. He’d been in remission for a year when the cancer had come back suddenly like Nemesis herself. How bitter that her beloved cousin was being hunted down by the same killer.

‘When Andrea was dying, he faded a little bit each day in front of me. I felt so helpless. It’s the same now.’ She shivered. ‘What a colder place the world will be soon.’

‘I know, darling, I know.’

When the imperial circus had left, I stripped off and showered, sloughing off the grubby smell of the
custodes
stationhouse as well as Silvia’s despair. I played around making a big production about what to change into; in the end, I chose a simple tunic and laced leather belt and dried my hair in the most time-consuming way. But habit wouldn’t let me drag it out for more than thirty minutes. I sighed. I had to get it over.

‘Senior Legate’s office.
Salve
.’

‘Good evening, Prisca Rusonia. Is the legate available?’

‘He’s down in the watch office, ma’am. Shall I patch you through?’

Crap. Had he seen the joint watch report already?

‘Mitelus.’

He’d seen it.

‘Hi. Can we have a private talk?’

‘I’m working. I don’t have time for personal matters.’ And, unbelievably, he cut the connection. I couldn’t have been more stunned if Juno herself had materialised in front of me and slapped my face.

Well, screw him.

*

‘Gather you had a visitation this afternoon.’ Daniel smiled at me across the supper table. We’d chosen to eat together, Helena, children and Michael included. Was it some kind of tribal pulling together in a time of crisis?

‘Yes. Silvia was so upset. It brought Andrea’s death back.’

We ate on in silence, cowed by events. Once finished, I kissed the children good night, smiled at Helena and Michael and took Daniel into my study and updated him.

‘Well, catching that little tart’s one bit of good news, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but Conrad’s taken it badly.’ I told him about our non-conversation.

‘Maybe he’s a bit pressured or was in the middle of something important.’

‘Right. And catching the person responsible for nearly killing our daughter isn’t important?’

‘You know I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘No, sorry.’ I gave him a tight smile. And tried to catch my mental breath. ‘He just won’t talk to me.’

‘Do you think it’s that bad between you two?’ he said.

‘Nonna thinks it’s some kind of emotional crisis. Apparently, my grandfather went through something like it.’

‘I haven’t noticed anything different about him at work. A little pre-occupied, perhaps. But if you’re right, now is not the time, not with everything else you’ve got to deal with. Daniel snorted. ‘This bloody girl is just on the make. Why can’t he see it?’

‘I wonder if it goes back to his own bad childhood. Caius Tellus used to beat the crap out of him. That’s why Conrad went for the low-life beating up on that kid just before his accident. That’s why he’s desperately protective of his own children. ’

‘Yeah, but that was forty years ago. He’s a mature adult now, in a very responsible position. And you need all the support you can get.’

*

At eleven o’ clock precisely the following day, I sat down in Nonna’s place at the head of the long oak table that Junia’s staff had set up in the atrium. Allegra at my right side and twenty-five of my senior blood relatives occupied the remaining seats. More cousins perched in a line of chairs along the side. They gazed at me expectantly. I felt numb; I couldn’t think what to say. I’d completely forgotten how Nonna started these councils. Gods. I’d sat through enough at her right side. A movement at my left broke my trance; Dalina Mitela, Lucy’s mother, handed me a sheet of paper. Of course, she was the family recorder. She’d have the protocol ready. I threw her a grateful look, read the sheet and got a grip.

‘Thank you all for coming at short notice. I’ve called the council meeting to advise you of Aurelia Mitela’s condition. My grandmother is very seriously ill; the doctors don’t think she will live beyond the week.’ I swallowed hard. ‘I know some of you have visited her in the last week or two and this has given her a good deal of pleasure.’

Yeah, especially when afterwards she whispered clever ironic comments to me about the more pompous ones in the hoarse tones of what was left of her voice.

‘The imperatrix was gracious enough to visit yesterday and sends us her support and love in such a difficult time. If you wish to say your farewells to Aurelia, please liaise with Marcella. But please keep your visits to a few minutes only. I will not have Aurelia’s last breaths spent fending off crowds.’

Some looked shocked. Tough.

‘I apologise if you are upset by my plain talking. She is really very frail.’

Allegra laid her hand on mine. Encouragement shone out of her eyes. I closed mine for a few seconds, before looking at them all again through a blur.

‘I will advise you immediately of any further developments. In the meantime, I will continue to act as
de facto
head of the family. Does the council support my decision?’

For once it was unanimous. Nobody said anything further; they just sat there like parallel rows of stuffed movie extras. I brought the meeting to an end. Dalina handed me the record and I signed it off. I drew my hand across my mouth and brought it around to support my jaw. How in Hades was I going to carry on with this?

Dalina gathered up the folders and el-pad, zipping them up in a soft brown leather case. When she’d finished, she stood there, waiting. A little uncomfortable, but waiting.

‘Dalina? What is it?

Allegra saved me. ‘Dalina Mitela will be staying with us now, Mama. Shall I ask Junia to sort out a room for her?’

‘Yes. Yes, thank you, Allegra.’ She jumped up and trotted off on her mission.

‘Sorry, Dalina, I’m a bit lost in all this,’ I said. I looked at Allegra’s retreating figure. ‘But luckily I have some expert help.’

‘Please don’t worry, Countess Carina. I should have realised you wouldn’t know. I’m here to help you, not cause you any worry. My recording activities will keep me in the background anyway, so please try to forget I’m here.’ That made me smile. Even her formal black suit and solemn expression didn’t subdue her striking appearance and personal attraction. In a family with some reasonable lookers, her dazzling eyes and luxuriant waving chestnut hair made her outstanding.

‘Thanks. Appreciated.’

I watched the fifty or so who’d fallen on the light lunch Junia’s staff had set up. I gave Dalina a tight smile and we headed for the crowd. People darted out of our way as if afraid of catching an electric shock.

Galienus appeared out of nowhere with a tray of glasses full of Castra Lucillan white. Nonna’s favourite, from our own vineyards. I grabbed one, and took a good swig. Fortified, I turned to go talk with the horde of cousins, with a smile on my face and a nagging ache in my heart.

*

I went into work as scheduled next morning. In one of her waking periods, Nonna had told me to stop moping around the house as it didn’t do anybody any good. Once I’d got there, I agreed. But Sergius had everything under control. I’d really have to get him promoted; it was woefully overdue. If anything I said had any weight any more.

At the senior staff meeting first thing, Conrad had all but ignored me, calling for my report almost as an afterthought. He hadn’t picked over it, but had given the impression it was pretty irrelevant. Daniel gave me a sympathetic look and even Sepunia, the Intelligence director, known for her cool detachment, looked puzzled.

‘Everything okay, Carina? Anything I should know about?’ she asked as we walked back afterwards.

‘No, nothing for you, just a personal matter.’

‘I heard your grandmother was very ill. How is she?’

‘We’ve got about a week, the doctors think.’

‘I’m very sorry.’ She laid her hand on my arm and fixed her green eyes on me. ‘Let me know if I can do anything. Please.’

Predictably, I couldn’t get a slot in Conrad’s schedule. I don’t know why I tried; he was freezing me out and taking advantage of his position to do so. Rusonia said he was taking personal time again that afternoon. What in Hades was going on? I paced up and down my office, trying to think it through. Sure, it didn’t take a genius to work out he was pissed at me about Nicola. Why wouldn’t he see me and talk, okay, have an honest fight, about it? But why was he ignoring Allegra and giving even a second to thinking about Nicola?

And what was all this personal time in work hours? Then the worst thought struck me with the force of a marble wall. My head felt weightless, then the room started turning. I stopped, grabbed on to my desk.

No.

Impossible.

He’d never shown any interest in anybody else since the day we’d met. Incredible, considering how he’d screwed around before then. I was a hundred per cent sure he would have said something.

Roma Novans weren’t squeamish about relationships; they wouldn’t have survived the centuries without a pragmatic approach. Unlike that first break fifteen years ago when I’d thrown him out, Conrad and I would try to have a civilised conversation and work out the practicalities. It sounded so cold-blooded to Westerners, but it cut out a lot of hysterics.

*

I was waiting, not directly opposite the PGSF barracks as CCTV scanned the whole area in front of the building. I’d been crouched down by my Ducati in a narrow pedestrian alley for nearly half an hour. Assaulted by the worst autumn storm this year, I huddled up against the wall. The damned rain dribbled down my leathers and over my boots in miniature drunken rivulets. The roof overhang three floors up gave no shelter.

In my foul mood, I nearly missed him.

Right on 14.00, he came out of the service gate. I glimpsed a silver pool car and the driver’s dark blond head. I scrambled on to my bike, hit the gas pedal and curved out of the alley in pursuit. The driving rain smashed against my body but I didn’t care; it would help hide me. I followed his vehicle’s taillights at the furthest distance I dared, only once having to make an evasive manoeuvre.

Ten minutes later, he stopped outside our own front gate. For the gods’ sake! I watched as he passed the entry scan and disappeared through the tall gateway.

What was he doing home at such a time of the day and why was it so secretive? I knew I hadn’t triggered the house CCTV from where I was, but I couldn’t risk getting any nearer if I wanted to stay unobserved. I waited.

Twenty-five minutes later, he drove out again, heading south-west. He parked on the street in the
macellum
quarter, once the central market, now expanded to include a large shopping centre and streets of individual outlets. He didn’t get out of the vehicle immediately. I was too far away to see exactly what he was doing. I searched in my inside pocket and cursed when I found I didn’t have my scope.

As he opened the door, I saw him thrust something in his pocket. Probably his cell. He opened the trunk and took out a messenger bag. While he was feeding the meter with coins, I stripped off my leathers and stuffed them with the helmet into the lockbox on the back of my bike. Only just in time, before he’d set off down the street. Pulling my sweater hood up over my head, I loped after him, keeping a good distance and occasionally fiddling with my fake music player headphones.

When he glanced up at the street name, I stopped and pretended to gaze into a display window full of new generation communicators. In the reflection, I saw him go through a door three metres up on the other side of the road. I picked up a brochure, wrinkled with damp, from the literature stand by the shop entrance. Why hadn’t they taken it in when the storm started? It was raining less intensely now, still steady enough to soak through my jeans and sweatshirt.

After five minutes, I lurched across the road, running for the wall for shelter. When I reached the door Conrad had vanished through, I dropped down, re-tied my sneaker and, as I stood up, read the brass plate.

I jogged down the street some way, then doubled back to my bike, pulled my leathers on and headed back to the PGSF building. In the garages, I parked up and hung my leathers up to dry. Even after I was back into my uniform, I was still puzzling it out. A lawyer. I guessed he wanted to try spring Nicola. But neither Allegra nor I was backing off on that one. I really hoped he wasn’t consulting her about divorce. But Claudia Vara, of all possible lawyers?

BOOK: Successio
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