Murder in the Forum (12 page)

Marcus waved a vague hand. ‘Whatever you wish. Although I doubt that you will learn anything. Gaius and I have already spoken to the servants. Zetso went out during the entertainments saying his master had sent him, and nobody saw Egobarbus after the death. However, you are welcome to try. Once I have sent that message to the gates, I am going to the
librarium
, where Gaius has promised to furnish me with a slave and writing materials. I have letters to write.’

It was none of my business, but I asked, ‘To Pertinax?’

‘Of course.’ Marcus smiled. ‘And to my mother, too. Telling her that I have done her bidding at last, and found myself a wife.’

‘Speaking of that, Excellence,’ I said, ‘did you know that Felix’s daughter was in Glevum? Apparently she arrived too late to be admitted last night, and spent the night in a rooming house outside the walls.’

Marcus looked at me without interest. ‘More than that, she is here in this house. She arrived while I was lamenting by the body. She had not heard of her father’s death, and had to be given a glass of strong wine and helped upstairs to lie down. When she is recovered, she will change into mourning clothes and come to make her own lament.’

So, I thought, Octavius had not managed to find her. ‘Then you have not spoken to her yourself?’

Marcus shook his head irritably. ‘No. I believe Gaius received her. Of course, it will be a double blow to her – finding she has lost her prospective husband as well as her father.’

I thought of what Octavius had said. It was possible that Phyllidia would be consolable – on both counts. It would have been tactless, however, to say that to Marcus. Instead I took a deep breath and said simply, ‘Under whose jurisdiction will she be, Excellence, now that Felix is dead?’

It was daring. Marcus was clearly anxious to be gone. But it was a reasonable question. A woman, like a child, is not legally responsible for her own affairs: many women are wealthy and some effectively manage large estates, but they are still officially under the guardianship of a father or a husband or some other legally appointed male who can represent them in the courts. Marcus, for instance, was named Delicta’s guardian in her husband’s will.

I added, humbly, ‘I wondered if Felix had appointed someone for Phyllidia. You, perhaps, since he wished you to be her husband.’

Marcus gave me a startled look. ‘I have no idea. His will is presumably in Rome, so it will be some time before it can be read.’

I pressed my advantage. ‘In the meantime, who is to act for her? Both her parents are dead, and all her relatives were executed when the Prefect fell.’

He frowned. ‘I suppose, since she must have a guardian, we will have to ask the
praetor
to appoint one. It will have to be a senior magistrate in Glevum. Gaius perhaps, since this is his mansion – otherwise, I suppose, the duty would fall on me. Great Mars, Libertus, you do raise the most appalling ideas! Have you seen the girl? She is as plain as a sheep – and now, I suppose, it will be my duty to find her a husband.’

I thought of Octavius and smiled. ‘It is possible, Excellence, that I can help you there. The young man who visited me this morning is very anxious to wed her, plain as a sheep or not. He is not a rich man, but with her father’s death she does have a large dowry.’ Which her guardian would have temporary administration of, although I did not voice that.

Marcus gazed at me thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps you are right, Libertus. It is my duty to act for her in this way. And if there is a suitor, so much the better. Of course, she cannot marry him at once – it would not be seemly, her father being so newly dead.’

So the management of those estates appealed to him. I tried not to grin. ‘Of course,’ I said gravely, ‘once the will is read . . .’

He saw the force of that. If there was a
querela
lodged – quoting the will and contesting what the guardian had done – it might well be a very costly business. Such lawsuits often result in the whole inheritance ending up in the imperial pockets. Much better to pass the girl – and her presumed estates – on to a husband as soon as possible.

Marcus nodded irritably. ‘Yes, yes. Well, time enough to think of that when the funeral is over. Come in!’ This to the elderly slave, who by now had returned to the doorway with a young page, and was fidgeting there, unwilling to interrupt. Behind them, tiptoeing towards us past the atrium, I could see Junio, back from his mission in the forum.

He was looking upset.

I excused myself from Marcus and went to meet my slave. He gestured me towards an alcove in the corridor and we stood there for a moment while the page scampered past us and out into the street, where some kind of commotion was taking place.

‘You have news?’ I said, rather unnecessarily. Junio’s face was the colour of my toga – a sort of muddy white.

He nodded, gulping, and I saw to my distress that there were tears in his eyes.

‘Junio,’ I said urgently, ‘what is it? What are they saying in the forum? Are they accusing me? Or Marcus?’ Either of those things might put me in danger, I thought, and that would distress the boy.

Junio shook his head. ‘No, master,’ he said, and his voice was trembling. ‘There is not much news of the men you were seeking. Plenty of rumour, but nothing one can trust – only that Egobarbus’s carriage arrived at the North Gate and not from the south, as one might have expected. Zetso has not been seen, except in your company, since he was flirting with the soldiers at the town gate yesterday. Oh, and the herald’s body has been staked out near the forest, out on the Isca road.’

Like all slaves everywhere, he was doing his duty, reporting to me the matters I had asked him to investigate. The real news, which he was bursting to tell me, had to wait until he had discharged that obligation.

‘Well done, Junio,’ I said, putting him out of his misery. ‘And what is the other information which is breaking your heart?’

He looked at me sorrowfully. ‘It concerns Julia Delicta, your patron’s wife.’ He sighed. ‘You remember the bald-headed slave, the girl who was bought for her hair and then shaven?’

‘I do.’ I had been about to add ‘and with whom you had a forbidden flirtation’ but a look at Junio’s face persuaded me that this was no time for teasing banter. ‘Go on.’

‘She went out this morning, early,’ Junio said, ‘to choose some new material for a
stola
. . . Delicta, that is, not the slave. She was in a state of high excitement – anxious to come to Glevum, and wanting everything new for her new role. She took her handmaidens with her – or rather they followed her litter – to shop and fetch and carry and take her purchases home. And that was how it happened. She was so long returning that they sent a slave to look for her. They found the body lying in an alley, beside the litter, and one of the litter-bearers lying with her in a pool of blood. They had both been stabbed and all the purchases were stolen.’

I was gazing at him in horror. ‘Delicta is dead?’

He swallowed. ‘Not Delicta, master. She is here. She left everything, at once, and came directly to Glevum. I saw the hired carriage outside Marcus’s apartment. That was how I learned of this – one of the servants told me.’

‘Then who . . .’ I said, but I did not need to ask.

‘It was Rosita, master,’ and now he made no attempt to hide the tears. ‘The bald-headed slave. Stabbed in the back and left to bleed to death. When they found her, the dogs were sniffing at her . . . Oh, master!’

It is not accepted behaviour in the best of circles, but I could not help it. I put out my arm and held the lad to me. ‘We will find him, Junio, whoever it was who did it. As soon as I have finished this investigation here, I promise you we will go and find him.’

I spoke with such intensity that a smartly uniformed slave, coming in with a gift of fresh candles for the death-room, turned to stare at me in amazement.

Junio pulled himself together with an effort. ‘Perhaps you will. Delicta has come to Glevum on purpose to petition Marcus to find him.’

I released him. ‘Delicta is upset?’

‘She is very angry. The slave was her property, she says, and cost a lot of money. The hair was almost ready to cut, and now the girl is worthless. To say nothing of the purchases that were taken. Some were worth even more than the slave. The thief must be found, Delicta says, and made to pay the fine.’

He said it bitterly, as if he resented that his lady friend was of less value than a length of material.

I said, ‘It will not be easy to find him. I presume it was a man? A pity no one caught a glimpse of him.’

‘But that is just it, master. Perhaps someone did. A man called at the back gate of Delicta’s house this morning, asking for the lady of the house. He was told that she was absent, in the town. He was hooded and cloaked, and disappeared before the gatekeeper could question him, but he got a glimpse of the face. Delicta has brought the gatekeeper with her, to tell his story to Marcus.’

‘Do you know what he says?’

‘That the caller was young and dark with an apologetic manner. He left a length of silk for Delicta. He said it was a marriage gift.’

‘A marriage gift? Who knew of the marriage?’

Junio shrugged. ‘I asked the same thing, master, but it seems the story is all over the town. The witnesses at the ceremony . . .’

I nodded. News travels quickly in the provinces. ‘A local man, then?’

‘Perhaps not, master. The gatekeeper had never seen him before. And he spoke with an unfamiliar accent. Of course, the two events may not be connected. The man who made the attack may not be the same man who came to the back gate. But it is coincidental, don’t you think?’

‘First Marcus is present at a death in Glevum,’ I said slowly, ‘and the next morning someone makes an attack upon his wife – or someone who resembles his wife most strikingly from the rear. You haven’t seen your bald-headed slave recently, Junio. The colour of her hair is most unusual – and Delicta wears a wig of it. It seems to me to be too much of a coincidence – two deaths so close to Marcus within so short a time.’

Even so, I had failed to notice one most important thing. And I was wrong about the deaths. There were not two of them, but three. I had forgotten the death of the litter-bearer.

I felt badly about that later, when I realised it. But it was easy to do. After all, he was only a slave.

In the meantime, I turned to my own servant. ‘Junio, I must begin my enquiries. I shall go and see Gaius, on the pretext of talking about pavements. He has gone to his study. You will find me there. But first you should go and warn Marcus that his wife is waiting for him.’

I left him to it, and found a slave to take me to the
librarium
.

I followed the servant up the stairs to where Gaius had his study. It was unusual not to have the
librarium
downstairs among the public rooms, but the design of this house, with its three large interconnecting reception rooms downstairs, presumably didn’t leave room for that. Today, too, this arrangement had particular advantages: it put a staircase and a narrow corridor between the study and the dreadful wailing issuing from the atrium.

The slave tapped on the door, and I entered at Gaius’s ‘Come in.’

The old man was standing by a fine stone-topped table on which a series of wax tablets and
stili,
and even a length of costly fine scraped bark (of the kind used for legal documents), had been set out. He was clearly supervising the activities of a pair of slaves, one of whom appeared to be mixing octopus ink with ashes in a glass dish, while the other prepared a series of reed and feather pens. Obviously only the best and costliest equipment was to be provided for Marcus and his letters.

When he saw me, Gaius looked surprised. ‘Your pardon, citizen. I was expecting your patron.’

I nodded. ‘He will be here shortly. He has been delayed. It seems his wife has arrived from Corinium.’

I decided not to mention the dead slaves, but changed the subject. I nodded towards the table. ‘When he does come I know he will appreciate your generosity. No one could ask for finer writing materials.’

Gaius looked pleased. ‘I could hardly do less,’ he said gallantly. ‘For
Marcus
, nothing is a trouble.’

There was something about the way in which he emphasised the name which made the two slaves exchange glances.

‘Most revered and senior citizen,’ I said, according him the full dignity of his magisterial office, ‘I wonder . . . a word with you in private?’ He looked about to demur, and I added quickly, ‘Marcus has given his approval.’

Gaius frowned, but he waved his hand in dismissal and the two slaves hurried off. ‘Well?’

‘It has been suggested, Reverence,’ I began hesitantly, ‘that . . . Felix . . . It is clear that you do not share the Emperor’s extreme regard for him.’ I was choosing my words with the greatest care. If I upset Gaius now, the results could be very uncomfortable – especially if I seemed to criticise anyone.

I need not have worried. Gaius heaved a deep sigh. ‘That brute!’ he said. ‘No, I have no opinion of him at all. He was a cheat and a bully, and I cannot pretend that I am sorry he is dead.’

I tried again. ‘Are you quite wise, your Honour, to make your feelings so clear? The Emperor will certainly have spies in the town, and people will talk, accident or not.’

For a moment the old man bridled. ‘Do you dare to tell me . . .’ and then thought better of it. ‘No,’ he said, ‘perhaps you are right. I should guard my tongue. I should never have dared to be so outspoken when he was alive. I should have seen that he was just as dangerous dead.’

‘You know something of Perennis Felix?’ I suggested hesitantly. ‘More than the rest of us, that is?’

Gaius looked at me. ‘Beyond that he was a thieving, brutal rogue who would do anything for money? What else is there to know?’

‘But you lent him your house?’

Gaius grimaced. ‘What choice did I have? My house is often borrowed when a dignitary comes. It would have been too pointed to refuse this time. Felix would have learned of it, and then I should have suffered. Felix was an expert at revenge.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Although I did try. I put a piece of rotting fish in the latrine and suggested the drains were offensive. It did me no good. My objections were simply overruled. I had to send one of the servants down this morning to get it out again.’