by Albert Noyer
“Prefect,” Dorothea demanded, “will you show us or shall your secretary test each wall?”
Abinnaeus sighed compliance. “Very well.” He went to a panel next to the cupboard and pushed on the right side until the wooden board swiveled inward. “Bend down and follow me.”
A flight of eight steps led to the entrance of a small room. Abinnaeus hesitated a moment, then pushed at the door. Even partly opened, a pungent smell of incense and the exotic perfume that Pennuta wore was evident on the flow of cool air.
“Aruga?” Dorothea questioned. “You said, Prefect, that you obtain the perfume especially for me, yet I knew I detected that…that fragrance…on your whore.”
Her husband’s jaw tightened and he clenched his fists, but entered without a response to her accusation.
In the dim light, a large couch, three-legged table, and wine amphora were barely visible against the left wall. On the opposite side, twin votive candles flickered in front of a statue of the lion-headed Kushite deity, Apemedek. Flies crawled on a nearby food offering in a silver dish.
After glancing around, Dorothea commented, “Prefect, this truly is a temple of Satan.” Although the light was poor, she noticed a blue woolen material lying on the floor in front of the idol. “Prefect, I believe that is your cape,” she said in mock innocence. “However did it get here?”
“My cape? I…I’ve no idea.” Abinnaeus stepped several paces toward the shrine and bent down to snatch the garment off the floor. In a flash of horror, he saw the body of his concubine sprawled beneath. “M…my God. It…it’s Pennuta! Dead!”
The Kushite woman lay face down in a pool of coagulated blood that soaked her face and ebony hair. Gore saturated colorful designs at the top of a tribal dress she had worn at the temple.
“How…how did she die?” Getorius broke the stunned silence that followed the discovery and knelt to examine Pennuta’s body.
Dorothy sneered, “So, Prefect, after your whore garroted my kitten, you came down here for a final obscene fornication, before you murdered her. Admit it!”
“Of course not, I slept…hardly at all…on my office couch because…because you were in a foul mood over Miu’s disappearance. I swear by Zeus Kassios that I never saw the woman last night.”
“Which was it, Prefect?” his wife persisted in a voice as cold as a Mediterranean winter wind. “You slept poorly because you fought with the slut, or because of what you did to her?”
“Domina,” Arcadia intervened. “With respect, let my husband finish examining Pennuta’s body.”
Nepheros said, “Prefect, her brother should be informed.”
“Shandi? He came to see me last evening and said he was going to meet his sister afterward. He..he’s staying at the PELVSIOS”
“Excellency, I can go there and inform him.”
“Wait…” Getorius glanced around the dim space. “Governor, does another passageway lead from here to where Pennuta lived?”
He hesitated before replying in a hushed voice, “Yes, to…to her apartment.”
“Then we should go there. Nepheros, when you find Shandi tell him to meet us at his sister’s.”
“Excellency?” He looked toward Abinnaeus for permission.
“Yes, do as…as the surgeon wishes.”
After the secretary left, Arcadia asked, “Getorius, can you tell when this horrible murder happened?”
“It’s quite cool in here, so from coagulation and rigor, I would say around the sixth night hour.”
“Some seven sand-glass hours ago?”
“Possibly.” Getorius used a finger to indicate a narrow reddish line circling the sides of Pennuta’s neck, then looked around. “It seems the murderer pulled forward a small chain with enough force to break it, yet I don’t see anything lying on the floor.”
Arcadia recalled, “Pennuta wore that same tunic and a golden lion pendant when she came to see us.”
“What?” Abinnaeus demanded. “Why did she want to see you?”
“She hoped we could persuade you not to violate the mummy.”Getorius pointed to the dead woman’s bare arms. “There are bruises there. She was grasped hard by both arms from the front, but the yellowish coloration indicates the marks are older by several hours than her slashed throat.”
“I…I may be responsible for that,” Abinnaeus admitted.
Seeming vindicated, his wife goaded, “So, Prefect, the truth comes out now?”
“Dorothea…” Abinnaeus exhaled a breath of exasperation and went toward his wife. “Carita, I―”
“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked. “Just tell us what happened!”
He backed away to rub his eyes. “I…I did go to Pennuta’s apartment after leaving the temple, but only to tell her I was breaking off our…our relationship.”
“Illicit relationship,” Dorothea sneered.
He ignored sarcasm that lately had become more cutting. “Pennuta became upset and attacked me with a Kushite dagger. She cut my forearm and the blade bent when I wrested it away from her. It should still be there. Of course I was angry. I…I flung her against the wall and then left. That…that’s why I forgot my cape.”
“Lies,” Dorothea hissed. “You met her down here, copulated like a pair of ferrets, then argued again. But this time you cut her throat with your belt knife.”
Abinnaeus held up a bandaged left arm. “Surgeon, tell her. You treated my wound.”
“Domina, your husband speaks the truth, I did suture a knife slash.” Getorius stood up to face Dorothea. “From what I can determine, Pennuta was attacked from behind with a thin-bladed knife. I’ve seen your husband’s dagger, a heavy military weapon. If her killer was in front of her, she would fall backward, face up, not as the poor girl is now lying on her front.”
Arcadia smoothed a hand over a wide leather couch that was the room’s only sleeping arrangement. “These sheets and blankets are undisturbed.”
Sensing exoneration, Abinnaeus’s expression brightened. “Pennuta obviously wouldn’t make up a bed during an argument. I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with her death!”
“Perhaps some details are wrong,” Dorothea conceded, “yet I see no other plausible explanation.”
“Governor,” Getorius told him,” we should examine Pennuta’s lodgings. Do we go through that door in the far wall?”
Abinnaeus felt his world undermined like mud buildings washed away in a flood, yet agreed. “Yes, it…it’s along an old Ptolemaic escape route to a port building.”
He led the way along a brick-lined tunnel that disappeared in the gloomy distance. Above a floor littered with rat feces, the walls stank of mildew and urine. Only dim light shown through grates spaced at intervals along the curved ceiling. Dorothea, still carrying Miu’s stiffening body, pulled her palla tight around her shoulders and covered her mouth with one hand; the filth was an apt metaphor of her husband’s infidelity
Getorius wore street clothing. Arcadia, recovering from her quartan fever, had only thrown a shawl over a night tunic. He put an arm around his wife when he noticed her shiver in the chill space.
The offensive passageway terminated in stairs leading up to a concrete platform and a wooden panel in the end wall. Abinnaeus slid aside the low door that gave access to Pennuta’s bathing alcove. He entered first. Getorius crawled awkwardly through the cramped opening. Dorothea handed her pet’s body to him, then struggled through. Arcadia was last to enter.
The apartment was empty. Nepheros had not yet returned with Shandi.
Getorius glanced around at the exotic furnishings. “Governor, again, who is her brother?”
Abinnaeus hedged full answer about a relationship he kept veiled. “He’s in a sense a business partner. Shandi supervises my imports at Myos Hormos.”
“And you’ve been trying to get to that port for the winter.”
“Unsuccessfully, Surgeon, because of delays caused by this infernal papyrus you discovered, and that courier’s death. I have no current report about wha
t is happening at Constantinople. Shandi became impatient at my absence and came to tell me that my cargo galleys had arrived safely.” Abinnaeus half-laughed. “And to get paid, of course. He saw me last evening, somewhere during the third hour.”
“He told you he was coming here afterward?”
“Yes. Surgeon, I was honest with him about not marrying Pennuta. I asked him to return my cape since I wouldn’t be coming to her residence any longer.” Abinnaeus searched around on tables in the room. “That dagger doesn’t seem to be here, a thin-bladed Kushite style, like the one Shandi owns. Here, look”―he pointed to the rug―”those are spots of my blood!” Abruptly, someone at the room’s door rattled the lock and worked its key wards until the bolt slid aside. “My secretary must be back with Shandi.”
Pennuta’s brother entered first. Behind him, Nepheros saw the others in the room and was not surprised. “Shandi, I told you the prefect might arrive here ahead of us.”
“Abinn’us,” he charged, “what this about my sister?”
“She…she. Pennuta was murdered.”
“She…is…dead?” Shandi blurted the question. “Where? How?”
Dorothea told him, “She was found in a secret love den my husband and your sister shared whenever he was not fouling my bed.”
Abinnaeus reddened at her new insult. “Shandi, you…you told me you were coming here to see Pennuta after you left my office. How did she seem? Was she alone?”
“Abinn’us, I did not come, only to my room at PELVSIOS.”
“You didn’t come here?”
Shandi fingered his pearl earring as he shook his head.
Arcadia had been looking at the room’s furnishings and noticed the wine goblets. She held one up to sniff its dregs. “Two of these were used recently. Shandi, are you positive you weren’t here?”
He replied evenly, “My sister know many men. They come here. I tell her not do that.”
Abinnaeus objected, “Pennuta a prostitute? No. No, that…that isn’t true.”
The Kushite shrugged. “Believe what you wish, Abinn’us.”
“Excellency,” Nepheros cautioned, “With the papyrus and all, it’s important that we do not notify a magistrate just yet.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Shandi, I asked you to return my cape, yet you say you weren’t here?”
“Cape?” He looked around. “No cape here.”
“It was found with Pennuta, covering her body.”
“Neph’ros tell me. I…I try warn my sister Abinn’us not marry her.” Shandi turned to the governor. “I take coach now, go back to Hormos. Work with merchants.”
“What about your sister?”
“She not like me much.”
“Still,” Abinnaeus chided, “there will be a funeral for Pennuta.”
Getorius added, “And there must be an official investigation into your sister’s death.”
“His Excellency decides that,” Nepheros quickly stated. “I advise against it for now.”
“Dorothea…let me carry Miu.” As Abinnaeus held his hands out for the animal, he asked, “May I accompany you back to the pretorium? I…I’ll help you through that small opening to the tunnel.”
“And the love den?” After apologizing for the cutting remark, Dorothea handed her husband the dead pet. “Be careful of my poor kitten.”
Abinnaeus cradled the small body, encouraged by her apparent mood change. “Dorothea, I seem to have misplaced an import ledger. Perhaps you could help me search for it?”
“Of course, Sergius. I’ll help you find it.”
Nepheros said, “Surgeon, there’s still the matter of the prince’s mummy. Bishop Eusebios should be told about your discovery about gender.”
Abinnaeus heard and turned to him. “What of the mummy? Is something new?”
Arcadia deflected his question. “Sir, we’re not sure. Getorius, that temple is nearby. Let’s confirm your findings in daylight. Nepheros?”
“Domina, I’ll gladly come with you. If I find Tanutamun, the priest will answer to me about attacking your husband.”
* * *
The cult temple looked less sinister by the light of a morning sun that shone as a weak globe of brightness in an overcast sky. At the temple entrance, shadows on relief sculptures of the animal-headed gods Hathor and Sobek were softened. The twin entrance doors were closed, barred by an inside timber rail.
Getorius said, “Last evening I went around to the side entry.” When the three turned a corner of the building, a dark, foul-smelling smoke permeated the air. Puzzled, he looked around, then pointed. “Something is burning in the crocodile den!”
Inside the enclosure the sacred crocodiles lined the pool, warming themselves in a weak sun that barely cast shadows. On dead grass just beyond the near wall, black smoke billowed up from a charred, elongated shape lying on the ground.
Arcadia said. “That resembles a log. Why would anyone burn wood in the crocodile den?”
“It isn’t wood,” Getorius said. “The Kashat mummy is being incinerated!” He started to climb the wall, but the reptiles stirred at his movement, their menacing jaws gaping wide.
Arcadia restrained him by the back of his tunic. “Husband, you can’t do anything! That mummy is crumbling into ashes.”
“That’s naphtha I smell. Without being soaked with flammable oil, those linen bindings would just smolder.” Getorius brushed dust from his tunic, reflecting on what the destroyed evidence meant. “Now it’s only my word that the mummy’s gender was female.”
Arcadia told him, “Still, you must tell the bishop what you found.”
Nepheros agreed. “Eusebios will accept the word of a surgeon and would be pleased to learn of this mistake in the forger’s attempt to deceive churchmen.”
Arcadia abruptly felt weak and slumped on the ground, to sit against the low wall. “Getorius, I’m not feeling well. Could we return to the pretorium?”
“Of course, cara. The bishop’s residence is on the way back and it should only take a moment to tell him about the mummy. Are you well enough to go inside?”
She nodded feebly. Getorius is usually more sympathetic toward an illness, yet I realize that at this time the importance of the discovery is foremost in his mind.
Bishop Eusebios received his three visitors in his library where he had first examined the Kashat papyrus. Nepheros asked if he and the abbot had come to any conclusions about the document.
Eusebios said that they had not. “Abbot Isidoros and I agree that we are not competent enough to evaluate the document, other than confirm that the text is not a Gnostic gospel. I dispatched a courier to Alexandria, asking Patriarch Cyril to send an expert in ancient writings who can examine the papyrus.”
“But Holiness,” Nepheros objected, “that could take well over two weeks.”
Annoyed at being contradicted, Eusebios retorted, “On the imperial cursus, with change of horses, the man can return in five days. Have you come with further news?”
Getorius told him, “Holiness, I discovered the mummy to be that of a young female.”
“A woman? Astounding, but do you have proof of that?”
He gently patted the back of his head. “This swelling on my skull.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nepheros explained, “That satanic Tanutamun struck the surgeon from behind as he examined the mummy to determine its gender.”
The bishop absently teased his beard to a point as he listened to Getorius tell of his discovery. He had wanted to close the temple for a long while and this deception might be an impetus to do so. “Surgeon, how did you determine it was the Egyptian priest who attacked you?”
“Tanutamun left his staff behind.”
“Thinking you were dead?”
Nepheros replied, “Undoubtedly, Holiness, and yet the surgeon’s discovery identifies the document as a forgery. That was not a prince’s mummy.”
Eusebios was cautious in speculating, “This may help, yet the woman could be a wife
or daughter and the papyrus case reburied with them for reasons unknown. Also, we need other witnesses to the gender.”
Nepheros said, “Unfortunately, we found the mummy burning in the crocodile enclosure. Tanutamun surely set it on fire.”
The clergyman scowled, “What impudence, knowing its importance to Christians! I shall insist that the prefect order the temple closed. The act is long overdue―”
“Getorius…” Arcadia felt worse and gently reminded him.
“Yes. Bishop, my wife has contracted marsh fever. I should get her back to our room for medication.”
“Indeed, I am sorry to learn that.” Eusebios rose to bless Arcadia with holy oil and his hand cross. “May The Crucified One grant you renewed health.” At the door, fearful of a poor answer, he timidly inquired, “Is…is there more news from Constantinople?”
“None, Holiness,” Nepheros told him.
The bishop held up his cross in the direction of the capital to intone, “Blessed be the kingdom of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Protect our Basileus.”
* * *
In their room, Getorius handed the pungent powdered leaf solution for his wife to drink. “Cara, it’s fortunate that Papnouthios knew what to prescribe for your fever.”
She made an acerbic face at him from the bed. “Husband, have you tasted it?”
“Of course, I do that with all new medications. It…well, it is bitter.”
“Extremely bitter!” she corrected, puckering her mouth after the first sip. “Where is the physician? We haven’t seen him since he last came here to treat me.”
“Conducting his experiments at the hospital? Arcadia, I…I didn’t tell you, but when I went to that temple, I saw human limbs in the crocodile den. That’s where his assistant disposes of corpses. Remember, we saw Skoros outside the temple with his cart?”
