Death at Pompeia's Wedding (21 page)

He had turned scarlet. ‘How did you know that?’

‘I wasn’t certain of it – until now – although I thought it possible. When the tribune came and was half-accusing you, you were ready to pour yourself a drink, though there were people watching and it was a very unusual thing to do. It all suggested that you turned to wine in moments of distress. When you found the corpse you were in the room alone. It must have been a shock. It seemed very likely that you would have had a drink – and when the tribune mentioned poison, you were quite alarmed. And you have just confirmed it.’

‘You can see why my master is so good at solving mysteries!’ I had forgotten Minimus who was standing behind us all this while. He and the pageboy must have heard all this. I turned to rebuke him, but the words died on my lips as the tribune reappeared with a clatter of hobnailed sandals on the stairs.

He stood at the doorway with my salver in his hand, and the soldier I had entrusted with it at his heels.

‘Your pardon for this intrusion, sir, I beg.’ The tribune looked flustered, and embarrassed, too. ‘But this soldier is wanted on parade and he refuses to part with this to anyone, until he has sight of the receipt. Says that he was half-promised a reward.’

‘This is insubordination, tribune. I shall see you later on. I made it clear that we were not to be disturbed.’ The commander sounded coldly angry, and the young man quailed. ‘But I suppose, that since you’ve brought the fellow here . . .’ The commander opened the compartment on his desk and took the tablet out. ‘Is this what you require?’

I stepped forward to claim it, but it was the page who spoke. ‘But, madam, surely that’s your lost writing block?’

Nineteen

There was a moment’s startled silence. Everyone looked from me to Livia, but she didn’t say a word. She had pushed her veil back again, and was staring at the writing tablet with evident dismay. Redux, I noticed, was also eyeing it, with the same anxiety that he’d evinced before. The commander waited, but no one moved or spoke.

The stillness seemed to hang heavy in the room. We could hear the barking of orders down below as the detachment in the courtyard began to march away and some hapless laggard being singled out, and put on extra duties and penal rations for a week. At this the soldier with the salver gave a nervous little cough, and I realized that he was anxious to be allowed to leave. No doubt he feared additional fatigues and a diet of thin porridge for being late himself.

I felt rather guilty. He was here at my behest. I broke the tension by speaking suddenly. ‘Thank you, soldier, for bringing in the tray, and for taking charge of it for me,’ I said. ‘There will be a reward for you, when Marcus Septimus comes back from Rome – and these citizens are witnesses to my word on that.’ I spoke with what I hoped was confidence, but secretly I prayed that Marcus would honour my contract when he heard. ‘In the meantime you may leave the salver with the commander here. I’ll ask him to keep it in the garrison, until my patron comes. It is much safer than my carrying it home with me tonight – miles in the dark on unfrequented roads.’

‘And that document you wrote as a receipt? You’ll erase my name from it?’

I gestured towards the writing tablet in the commander’s hand. ‘There it is. You can countersign it now. These citizens will witness that you brought the salver here, and therefore you are entitled to a reward.’

The soldier took the tablet. He made a show of reading it, scrawled his initials on the wax again and gave it back. Then – with obvious relief – he put the salver on the table, saluted and withdrew. We could hear him clattering pell-mell down the stairs. The tribune, after a moment, sighed and followed him.

The commander turned to Livia and me. ‘I’m happy to take charge of His Excellence’s tray. But what am I to do about this writing block? There seems to be some question as to whose it is. Lady, your servant appears to think that it is yours.’

Livia had recovered her composure now. She gave a little laugh. ‘It looks like it certainly. But I lost mine a long, long way from here. We were on the way to visit relatives, and it was stolen from the luggage wagon when we were in an inn. Pulchra will remember.’

Pulchra did. She nodded eagerly. ‘Your husband was angry at your carelessness. He had them search the inn from floor to roof, and flogged the servants who should have been on guard, but it was never found.’

‘You see?’ Livia said sweetly. ‘How could Antoninus have got hold of it? Besides, I’m not so sure that this is so much like it, after all. May I examine it?’ She took it from the officer and undid the ties. ‘What do you think Pulchra?’

The woman examined it, and then gave it back. ‘Well, it is certainly very similar, but I don’t think it’s the same. For instance, I think this one may have been rewaxed and yours had certainly never been repaired.’

I nodded. It is not uncommon for a favourite tablet to have the wax removed and replaced with new, especially if the casing is a fine one – as this was. There is a limit to how many messages can be written and erased before the writing surface becomes too thin, and the stylus begins to scratch the wooden backing block or even cause damage to the case itself.

The pageboy refused to be deterred. ‘But surely, mistress? This fretwork near the hinge . . .? It’s so unusual, there can’t be two of them.’

‘Foreign handiwork, so Redux tells me,’ I remarked. ‘It may be that he can throw some further light upon its history. Let him have a closer look at it. I have the impression that he recognizes it.’

I thought to shame him, but he took the block and turned it reverently in his hands. ‘Ivory, from the African provinces, by the look of it. Fine work, and as you say, unusual. Hand carved by an artist – and quite a masterpiece. I have never seen another quite as intricate.’

‘But you have seen this before?’ I tried to press the point.

He gave me that poisonous look again. ‘Or something very like it – as the lady said. My partner Zythos had one for a while. I cannot swear that it was this – I did not get so close a look at it – but it was similar. I suppose there may be others carved by the same man.’

Livia clapped her hands. ‘Then that explains it. Don’t you see? Zythos was the one who provided me with mine. No doubt he imported them all from the same source. Perhaps Antoninus bought one from him too. My husband meant to pay for ours, of course, but Zythos insisted on giving it to us – a pretty trinket for a pretty lady, he declared.’

‘Then he was a fool! This is no trinket, it’s a lovely thing. This would command the highest price in any marketplace.’ Redux was speaking angrily, but Livia shook her head.

‘I think he hoped to influence my husband to a deal. Something about a statue he was hoping to import.’

Redux relaxed at this quite visibly. ‘Ah, perhaps you’re right. Compared to Minerva, this tablet is a trinket, I suppose. But if he imported these, he did so privately. I have never dealt in anything like this – I only wish I had.’ He turned it over and opened it again. ‘Though it seems that this has been much used. Your servant is correct. The wax has been replaced.’

‘Well, that settles it!’ Livia declared. ‘If there had been any damage to my writing block, Honorius would have bought me a new one instantly. So it is certain that I have no claim to this.’

‘Then I’ll give it to the pavement-maker,’ the commander said. ‘It was sent to him – and Antoninus won’t be needing it again.’

‘By all means,’ Livia murmured graciously.

‘But . . .’ Pulchra began. Her mistress silenced her.

‘Even if it were mine – which it is clearly not – I would let Libertus have it,’ she declared. ‘I wouldn’t want anything which Antoninus had defiled – and the pavement-maker has deserved a gift from us. He has spent his whole day trying to clear Pompeia’s name – and see what his kindness has resulted in! Brought in for questioning about a death! I only hope my coming here to speak for him has helped. Speaking of which, commander . . .?’ She dropped the veil again.

‘I must let you go – of course!’ The commander was playing his gallant role again. ‘You have rituals to attend to and you will be missed. I apologize for having kept you here so long.’ He turned to the page. ‘You, lad, go out into the street and find a litter quickly for this lady citizen. Tell the bearers they are to take her home as fast as possible, and the commander of the garrison will pay.’ And then, since the slave-boy was goggling in surprise: ‘Well, boy, what are you waiting for?’

The pageboy still looked startled but he trotted off downstairs and we heard him speaking to the tribune at the door.

The old commander cocked an eye at me. ‘And I suppose I shall have to let you go as well – and your companion in the fancy sleeves. Ah . . .!’ He broke off as the pageboy reappeared again.

‘I have found a litter, it was right outside. They are waiting for you, mistress, at the outer gate. Only . . .’ He hesitated and I saw that his ears were turning pink. ‘The bearers want to know if you will pay them now, or whether they should come back for the money afterwards.’

The Roman looked as if he might explode, but Livia put a gentle hand upon his arm. ‘It is all right, commander. Do not concern yourself. I will see that the litter slaves are paid when I get home. But thank you for your kindness. Pulchra, follow me.’ And she turned and went downstairs, before the soldier had the chance to offer her an arm.

‘So we may go as well?’ Redux and I exchanged glances of relief, but we were too hasty. The commander spoke again.

‘I fear that we have not finished with you yet. I shall have my troops search Antoninus’s house for useful evidence, and question the people in the neighbourhood. When they have done that, I’ll speak to you again. Tomorrow, at the sixth hour, I’ll expect you here. On pain of being sent for and arrested, otherwise.’

That was a surprise, and not a pleasant one. ‘Arrested!’ I exclaimed.

The commander turned to me. ‘I’ve done my best for you. I am exceeding my authority in letting you go now. And don’t think I won’t imprison you, Libertus, because I will – I will be obliged to, since the tribune has accused you of a crime, and brought you before me according to the law. If there is no other suspect by the time that you come back, I will be forced to take you into custody. And make sure you appear on time, the pair of you, or I shall have to send my guards to come and bring you in – and they will be a good deal less gentle than the tribune was.’

I nodded glumly. ‘You’ll take the noonday trumpet as a sign?’ I asked. The sixth hour was only approximate to me, but the army had good methods of assessing time. Halfway through the day was naturally noon, and trumpet was always sounded at that hour on the steps of the basilica each day, to mark the end of court proceedings. It was reasonably accurate if the day was fine. But if the sky was overcast, as it had been today, the trumpeter had to make an estimate of when the sun had reached its height – and once the call had sounded it was officially too late. I would have to ensure that I allowed sufficient time for the trumpeter to get his calculations wrong. ‘Let us hope that it is sunny, then.’

The commander grunted and went back to his desk. ‘Remember. Tomorrow. Make sure you’re not late.’ And he busied himself with his affairs again, evidently expecting the pair of us to leave.

Redux was already on the topmost step, but I still lingered by the stool. The commander looked up sharply. ‘Well?’

‘The writing tablet?’ I ventured. I hardly liked to ask, but he handed it to me without another word, and I followed Redux down into the yard, sending Minimus ahead to try to find a hiring-carriage that would take us home. We emerged from the stairway, blinking in the light.

The tribune was standing by the entrance looking grim. ‘So, he has let you go?’

‘Only till tomorrow,’ Redux said, and made him smile.

‘Tribune?’ A voice came roaring from above, and the soldier was forced to race upstairs again.

But I was not smiling as I strode towards the gate. Matters had taken a sorry turn for me. If I could not offer a solution very soon, it seemed as if I would be brought to trial – and without even Marcus to speak up for me. I wondered if Junio could take over my role and try to make enquiries into this unhappy mess.

The courtyard was deserted now, the cohort had all gone and only the off-duty centurion in his den and the gatekeeper on duty were there to see us go. I could hear my sandals ringing on the cobbled yard – and I was aware of someone else’s hurrying after me.

I turned to find Redux, already out of breath. ‘So, clever pavement-maker, what do we do now? Have you got some other lead you wish to follow up?’ He saw my startled look. ‘Well, I’ll have to help you, won’t I? For my own sake now. You heard what the commander said about arresting us, if there was no other likely candidate.’

I gazed at him, hopelessly. ‘And what do you suggest?’

He shook his head. ‘You are supposed to be the expert, I believe. Though I can’t say I’m delighted with your progress up to now. Apart from getting us arrested and having us brought here, it doesn’t seem to me that you’ve done anything at all.’

I said sadly, ‘I believe you’re right. We now have two corpses, instead of only one – and I have no idea exactly how either of them died. Or what there is in common, between the two of them—’

He interrupted. ‘But surely, there was poison in both cases, wasn’t there? The tribune said he thought so.’

‘I know what he said. But Redux – you are a man of some intelligence. You have demonstrated that to me a dozen times. And you saw Antoninus – how he was slumped at the desk. Did he look like a man who’d died of poisoning to you?’

He stopped and stared at me. ‘I don’t know what you mean?’

‘Oh, the usual symptoms. Skin a funny colour, foam around the lips, looking as though he’d died in agony. Anything like that?’

‘Great Mars!’ Redux was suddenly alert. ‘Of course there wasn’t, now you mention it. He looked quite peaceful – or perhaps surprised – as though he’d died of fright. You think that’s what happened?’