later.’
‘He’d been in practice long himself?’
‘Lucius had a good fifteen years on me; I’m forty-seven, he was sixty-three. He’d had an office in Bovillae for oh, maybe twelve years when I joined him.’
‘Why did you move here?’
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time. Still seems so. The town was growing, with more people coming into the area, from Rome especially, buying holiday property. A lot of our business is conveyancing, acting as agents for one side or another.’
‘But not all of it? I’m thinking of the Maecilius case.’
‘Ah.’ Acceius frowned. ‘That, Corvinus, is an example of a legal dispute that should never have happened. Lawyers are often accused of encouraging litigation on the part of their clients, even of fomenting it, for their own gain. Some do - I could quote you examples, at no great distance from here - but most try to see the danger in advance on their clients’ behalf and take steps to avoid it happening. In this case, Lucius and I - we were old Maecilius’s lawyers - warned him that there’d be trouble and bad blood over the will’s execution, but the obstinate old so-and-so wouldn’t be told.’
‘You mind telling me exactly what the situation is? If it isn’t confidential, I mean.’
Acceius laughed. ‘Grief, no, it’s not confidential! Ought to be, certainly, but thanks to Bucca and Fimus between them - they’re the sons, as you’re probably aware - plus old “Lucky” himself before the lightning got him the whole bloody town knows, and has done for years. So the answer to your question is no; I don’t mind telling you at all. However, I don’t quite see what it has to do with Lucius’s death.’
‘Nor do I, pal.’ I took a sip of my wine. ‘Maybe - probably - nothing. I’m just covering all the angles at present.’
‘Fair enough.’ Acceius settled on his couch. ‘In that case... The terms of the will are quite simple. Fimus - Marcus Maecilius, the younger son - gets the Six Cedars property in its entirety, plus a quarter of the liquid assets, amounting to something just short of fifteen thousand sesterces, while his elder brother gets the cash remainder. Old Maecilius’s point, valid, as far as it went, was that Fimus had put the work in over the past forty-odd years to build the place up and didn’t deserve to have the farm sold out from under him - as it would have to be - just so that his worthless brother - “Lucky”’s expression, not mine - could take an equal share without having earned it. Bucca, of course, is now trying to have the will overturned. Or rather’ - he hesitated - ‘that’s not quite fair.’
‘It isn’t?’
‘No. Bucca’s quite willing to reach an out-of-court settlement. If his brother agrees to split both property and cash fifty-fifty - Bucca taking his half of the property in outlying lakeside land not at present under cultivation - then he’ll immediately sell on to a Bovillan developer with whom he’s already reached a prospective agreement and turn over a third of the sale price to Fimus. You understand?’
‘Yeah. And presumably if it happened that way then Fimus would come out ahead on the deal?’
‘Undoubtedly. He’d be left with what in effect is, at present, the entire working farm and - lakeside property prices being what they are - twenty times the amount he’d’ve had otherwise. While Bucca would net something just short of a million in hard cash.’
‘So the farming son gets the land and the funds to put into it, the other guy serious loose change to do what he likes with. They’re both winners, the thing’s been settled amicably and they can go their separate ways. Seems a sensible deal to me.’
Acceius shrugged. ‘Agreed. Absolutely, no argument. But then, with all respect, Corvinus, you’re not a farmer and you’re not a local. Most important, you are not Fimus Maecilius. Fimus won’t have the deal at any price: he wants Six Cedars to stay intact even though the
‘He’d been in practice long himself?’
‘Lucius had a good fifteen years on me; I’m forty-seven, he was sixty-three. He’d had an office in Bovillae for oh, maybe twelve years when I joined him.’
‘Why did you move here?’
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time. Still seems so. The town was growing, with more people coming into the area, from Rome especially, buying holiday property. A lot of our business is conveyancing, acting as agents for one side or another.’
‘But not all of it? I’m thinking of the Maecilius case.’
‘Ah.’ Acceius frowned. ‘That, Corvinus, is an example of a legal dispute that should never have happened. Lawyers are often accused of encouraging litigation on the part of their clients, even of fomenting it, for their own gain. Some do - I could quote you examples, at no great distance from here - but most try to see the danger in advance on their clients’ behalf and take steps to avoid it happening. In this case, Lucius and I - we were old Maecilius’s lawyers - warned him that there’d be trouble and bad blood over the will’s execution, but the obstinate old so-and-so wouldn’t be told.’
‘You mind telling me exactly what the situation is? If it isn’t confidential, I mean.’
Acceius laughed. ‘Grief, no, it’s not confidential! Ought to be, certainly, but thanks to Bucca and Fimus between them - they’re the sons, as you’re probably aware - plus old “Lucky” himself before the lightning got him the whole bloody town knows, and has done for years. So the answer to your question is no; I don’t mind telling you at all. However, I don’t quite see what it has to do with Lucius’s death.’
‘Nor do I, pal.’ I took a sip of my wine. ‘Maybe - probably - nothing. I’m just covering all the angles at present.’
‘Fair enough.’ Acceius settled on his couch. ‘In that case... The terms of the will are quite simple. Fimus - Marcus Maecilius, the younger son - gets the Six Cedars property in its entirety, plus a quarter of the liquid assets, amounting to something just short of fifteen thousand sesterces, while his elder brother gets the cash remainder. Old Maecilius’s point, valid, as far as it went, was that Fimus had put the work in over the past forty-odd years to build the place up and didn’t deserve to have the farm sold out from under him - as it would have to be - just so that his worthless brother - “Lucky”’s expression, not mine - could take an equal share without having earned it. Bucca, of course, is now trying to have the will overturned. Or rather’ - he hesitated - ‘that’s not quite fair.’
‘It isn’t?’
‘No. Bucca’s quite willing to reach an out-of-court settlement. If his brother agrees to split both property and cash fifty-fifty - Bucca taking his half of the property in outlying lakeside land not at present under cultivation - then he’ll immediately sell on to a Bovillan developer with whom he’s already reached a prospective agreement and turn over a third of the sale price to Fimus. You understand?’
‘Yeah. And presumably if it happened that way then Fimus would come out ahead on the deal?’
‘Undoubtedly. He’d be left with what in effect is, at present, the entire working farm and - lakeside property prices being what they are - twenty times the amount he’d’ve had otherwise. While Bucca would net something just short of a million in hard cash.’
‘So the farming son gets the land and the funds to put into it, the other guy serious loose change to do what he likes with. They’re both winners, the thing’s been settled amicably and they can go their separate ways. Seems a sensible deal to me.’
Acceius shrugged. ‘Agreed. Absolutely, no argument. But then, with all respect, Corvinus, you’re not a farmer and you’re not a local. Most important, you are not Fimus Maecilius. Fimus won’t have the deal at any price: he wants Six Cedars to stay intact even though the
Similar Books
