The Venus Throw (16 page)

We sat in the study of the house on the Esquiline Hill,
which had once been my house and my father’s before that. Now it belonged to Eco and his brood. His wife Menenia was elsewhere, probably trying to put to bed the squabbling twins, whose high-pitched screams of laughter occasionally rent the cool evening air.

I had just described to Eco my interview with Clodia, up to the arrival of her brother and my departure shortly thereafter.

“When I left the lady’s horti,” I said, “my purse was
substantially
heavier.”

“So you did accept her commission?”

I nodded.

“Then you do believe that Marcus Caelius murdered Dio?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’ll be looking for evidence to convict him.”

“If such evidence exists.”

“Clodia’s reasons for suspecting him seem to me tenuous, at best,” said Eco. “But then, you’ve begun investigations with less to go on and still managed to dig up the truth.”

“Yes. But to be honest, I’m a little uneasy about the whole affair.”

“I should think so!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Papa, everyone knows that Caelius and Clodia were lovers. And Caelius and Clodius are political allies and drinking partners, or used to be. For that matter, there may have been something more than friendship between the two of them. Or the three of them, I should say.”

“You mean the three of them in one bed?”

Eco shrugged. “Don’t look surprised. A woman like Clodia—well, you said yourself that there wasn’t a piece of furniture in the tent except for her couch.”

“So?”

“Papa! You assumed that you were meant to stand. From what I’ve heard, the woman is more hospitable than that. If
there was no chair, only a single couch, perhaps that meant that you were invited to
recline.”

“Eco!”

“Well, from the dress you say she was wearing—”

“I should have been less descriptive.”

“You should have taken me along with you. Then I could have seen for myself.”

“You’re welt into your thirties now, son. You should be able to think of something besides sex.”

“Menenia never complains.” He grinned.

I tried to make a grunt of disapproval, which came out sounding more like a hum of curiosity. Eco had chosen a black-haired beauty not unlike Bethesda for his wife. In how many other ways was she like Bethesda? I had wondered about this from time to time, in the perfectly natural way that a man of my years ponders the younger generation and their goings-on. Eco and Menenia . . . naked Clodius and his sister in her transparent gown . . .

At just that moment, one of the twins let out a scream from elsewhere in the house. I was jolted from my reverie, rudely reminded that physical pleasure can have consequences.

“We stray from the subject,” I said. “I told you I felt uneasy about accepting this commission from Clodia, and you said, ‘I should think so.’ ”

“Well, it all seems rather unsavory, don’t you think? Perhaps even suspicious. 1 mean, there’s an odd smell to it. Look, Papa, all you really learned about Caelius from your interview with Clodia is that he borrowed some money from an older, richer woman—under false pretenses, to be sure—and failed to repay her. Oh, and that he happen to carry a knife on his person, which is technically illegal inside the city walls but done by most people with any common sense these days. Until very recently these two were lovers, and now she’s after evidence to convict him of murder. What are we to make of that? Caelius was her brother’s confidant,
and now the two Clodii accuse him of being a hired assassin for King Ptolemy, or for Pompey, which is the same thing. Why, Clodius is Caelius’s landlord—Caelius lives in that apartment just up the street from you.”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. Clodius kicked him out.”

“When?”

“A few days ago. I didn’t know about it until today when Clodius told me himself—standing there naked in the tent, dripping wet, nonchalantly discussing his real estate with me. Funny, the gallus and I walked by the place on our way to Clodia’s house and when I saw that all the shutters were closed on such a warm day, I thought Caelius must be inside sleeping off a hangover. Instead it turn out that the apartment is empty. Caelius has gone back to live at his father’s house on the Quirinal Hill—where he’ll undoubtedly stay, until his trial is finished.”

“Then they’re definitely bringing charges against him?”

“Oh yes, charges have already been filed. But
not
by Clodius.”

“Then by whom?”

“Can you guess?”

Eco shook his head. “Marcus Caelius has too many enemies for me to hazard a guess.”

“The charges were filed by the seventeen-year-old son of Lucius Calpurnius Bestia.”

Eco laughed and mimed with his outstretched arm. “ ‘Judges, I do not point the finger of guilt—I point
at the guilty finger!’ ”

“So you know that story?”

“Of course, Papa. Everyone knows about Caelius accusing Bestia of poisoning his wives. I only regret that you and I were gone visiting Meto when that trial took place. I heard about it secondhand from Menenia.”

“It was Bethesda who told me about it. Well, it looks as if Bestia may soon exact his revenge on Caelius.”

“Has the date for the trial been set?”

“Yes. The charges were actually filed five days ago. Given the customary ten days allowed for the two sides to prepare their arguments, that puts the beginning of the trial only five days from now.”

“So soon! You don’t have much time.”

“Isn’t that always the way? They come to us thinking we can pull evidence out of thin air.”

Eco cocked his head. “But wait, you’re saying the trial will start two days after the Nones of Aprilis. If it goes on for more than a day it would overlap with the opening of the Great Mother festival.”

I nodded. “The trial will go on despite the holiday. Lesser courts are suspended during the festival, but not the court for political terrorism.”

“Political terrorism? Then it’s not a simple murder trial?”

“Hardly. There are four charges against Caelius. The first three accuse him of organizing the attacks on the Alexandrian embassy—the midnight raids in Neapolis, the stoning in Puteoli and the fire at the estate of Palla. I’ll take no part in investigating those matters. My only concern is the fourth charge, which relates directly to Dio. It accuses Caelius of attempting to poison Dio at the house of Lucceius.”

“What about the actual murder, the stabbing at Coponius’s house?”

“Technically, that’s also included. But Publius Asicius has already been acquitted, and the prosecution is wary of trying to prove the same case against Caelius. Instead, they want to concentrate on the earlier poisoning attempt. Of course, I’ll find out what I can about the stabbing at Coponius’s house, as a corroborative detail.”

“And to satisfy your own curiosity.”

“Of course.”

Eco pressed his fingertips together. “A politically charged trial, held during a holiday when Rome will be packed with visitors, with Cicero’s estranged protégé as the accused and
a scandalous woman in the background—this could turn into a spectacle, Papa.”

I groaned. “All the more reason for my misgivings. All I need now is for some of Pompey’s or King Ptolemy’s strong-armers to come banging at my door, warning me to back away from the investigation.”

Eco raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s likely to happen?”

“I hope not. But I have a bad feeling about the whole affair. As you said, there’s an odd smell to it. I don’t like it.”

“Then why not back away? You don’t owe Clodia any favors—or do you? Are you telling me everything that happened in her tent today?” He affected an insinuating smile.

“Don’t be absurd. I owe the woman nothing but the retainer I left with. But I do feel an obligation.”

He nodded. “To Dio, you mean.”

“Yes. I refused him to his face when he asked me for help. Then I talked myself out of going to the trial of Asicius—”

“You were sick, Papa.”

“Yes, but was I
that
sick? And then, when Asicius was acquitted, I told myself that was the end of it. But how could it be the end, with no one convicted of the crime? How could Dio be at rest? Still, I managed to shun the obligation I felt, to shove such thoughts to the back of my mind—until today, when the gallus arrived to bring me face to face with my own responsibility. It was Clodia who summoned me, but it wasn’t only her.”

“Her brother Clodius as well?”

“No, I mean to say that those two are only the agents of something larger. It begins with Dio, but where it ends only time will tell. Some greater power seems determined to pull me into this matter.”

“Nemesis?”

“I was thinking of another goddess: Cybele. It was one of her priests who accompanied Dio to my house, and the
same priest who came for me yesterday. Do you think it’s only a coincidence that the trial will be held during the Great Mother festival—the celebration consecrated to Cybele? You know, it was one of Clodia’s ancestresses who saved the statue of Cybele from being lost in the Tiber when “it was brought from the East long ago. Do you sense the link?”

“Papa, you grow more religious as you grow older,” said Eco quietly.

“Perhaps. More fearful of the gods, anyway, if not more respectful. Leave them out of it, thee. Say that this is merely between myself and the shade of Dio. My sense of obligation runs deeper than my misgivings.”

Eco nodded gravely. As usual, he understood me completely. “What do you want from me, Papa?”

“I’m not sure yet. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps only to listen to my doubts, and nod if I say something that remotely makes sense.”

He took my hand in his. “Tell me if you need more than that, Papa. Promise me.”

“I promise, Eco.”

He released me and sat back. From elsewhere in the house I heard one of the twins shrieking. Surely it was time for them to be in bed, I thought. Through the gaps in the shutters I could see that the world outside was dark.

“What does Bethesda think?” said Eco.

I smiled. “What makes you think I told her anything?”

“You must have told her something when you ate dineer with her tonight.”

“Yes—a somewhat expurgated version of my visit to Clodia’s horti.”

“Ha! Bethesda would have appreciated the detail of the naked bathers, I think.” Eco laughed.

“Perhaps, but I left them out of it. Just as I left out the description of the dress which seems to have intrigued you so much.”

“I think it intrigued you first, Papa. And Clodius’s emergence from the river, as naked as a fish from the sea?”

“Omitted—though I did leave in the siblings’ embrace.”

“And their kiss?”

“And the kiss. Well, I had to give Bethesda
some
grist for gossip.”

“And what does she think of the accusation against Marcus Caelius?”

“Bethesda stated quite flatly that it was absurd.”

“Really?”

“ ‘Impossible!” she said. ‘Marcus Caelius could never have committed the crime. The woman is defaming him!’ I asked her upon what she based her opinion, but the Medusa look was the only answer I got. Bethesda has always had a weakness for our dashing young neighbor. Or ex-neighbor, I should now say.”

“She’ll miss having him living just up the street.”

“We shall all miss the occasional spectacle of watching Caelius stumble out his front door in the middle of the day with tousled hair and bloodshot eyes, or seeing him carouse through the street with a prostitute from the Subura, or hearing his dronk friends recite obscene poetry from his window at night—”

“Papa, stop!” Eco choked with laughter.

“It’s no joking matter, I suppose,” I said, suddenly grim. “The young man’s whole future is at stake. If he’s convicted, the best that Marcus Caelius can hope for will be a chance to flee into exile. His family will be shamed, his career ended, all his prospects ruined.”

“It hardly seems punishment enough, if he’s guilty.”

“
If
he’s guilty,” I said. “Which it’s up to me to find out.”

“And if you find that he’s not guilty?”

“I’ll report that to Clodia.”

“And will that make any difference to her?” said Eco shrewdly.

“You know as well as I do, Eco, that Roman trials are only incidentally about guilt and innocence.”

“You mean that Clodia may be more interested in destroying Caelius than in punishing Dio’s killer?”

“That thought has crossed my mind. A woman scorned—”

“Unless it was
she
who scorned
him
, Papa.”

“I suppose that’s one of the things need to find out.”

“If you believe the rumors, Caelius wouldn’t be the first man she’s destroyed,” said Eco. “Though I suppose exile and humiliation are more merciful than poison.”

“You refer to the gossip that she murdered her husband three years ago.”

He nodded. “They say that Quintus Metellus Celer was healthy one day and dead the next. They say that his marriage to Clodia was always stormy—and moreover that Celer and her brother Clodius had become fierce enemies. The rift was ostensibly over politics—but what man could abide having a brother-in-law for a rival in his bed?”

“But which brother-in-law was the usurper—Clodius . . . or Celer?”

He shrugged. “I suppose that was up to Clodia to decide. Celer was the loser; he lost his life. And now Caelius? Perhaps any man who comes between this brother and sister is risking more than he realizes.”

I shook my head. “You repeat these scandalous charges as if you knew them to be true, Eco.”

“Only because I think you should consider very carefully what sort of people you’re dealing with. You’ve made up your mind to go through with this, then?”

“To try to find the truth about Dio’s murder, yes.”

“Under Clodia’s auspices?”

“It was she who hired me. Circumstance led her to me—circumstance, or Cybele.”

“But the political danger of associating yourself in any way with Clodius—”

“I’ve made up my mind.”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Then I think at the very least we should review what we know about
these
Clodii, before you go off pursuing their interests or pocketing any more of their silver.”