by Zara Altair
“The boys,” Argolicus said, slapping his palm on the table. “I knew there was something I overlooked. Exactly, possibly one of them or another young man from another party at another time. A 17- or 18-year-old would have plenty of strength. Even a younger boy who was strong. Let’s go back to the villa. Perhaps Philo can help us, at least with these boys.”
Nikolaos put away his note and reached for the package of vellum sheets.
Argolicus took a last gulp of wine from the cup, then stood. When he looked around the bar, he noticed the room was empty. The barman stood in the back while voices and clattering came from the kitchen, but the room itself was empty.
A silhouette stood in the doorway backlit by the winter sun. A large man entered the relative dark. Tall, but not as tall as Argolicus, dressed in a shabby tunic covered on top by a short leather tunic with no sleeves. A wide leather belt left over from some military campaign circled his waist.
The man strode to Argolicus and whispered in a rough hiss, “Do not meddle.” He reached out his hardened fingers and clutched the front of Argolicus’ tunic. He pulled Argolicus toward him so that his stinking breath flooded the close air. “You are out of your element. The price of nobility is birth right. You are only half there.”
Argolicus tensed and growled. “I have a trusted mission. I keep my word.”
The man pushed his hand against Argolicus’ chest with vigor, let go of his tunic, and turned toward the door. “As do I,” he said, striding toward the doorway where he hovered for a moment and then disappeared into the sunlight.
Nikolaos sighed and said, “Master, why did you not fight back?”
“The man was rough, but no threat. He meant no physical harm. The words were a threat.” He smoothed the front of his tunic with his palm. “But he was a messenger, not the man or woman who sent the threat.”
“Your questions and explorations have unsettled someone.”
“Now we need to find out who that is.”
When Argolicus and Nikolaos returned, the giant doorman N’Golo leaned close to Argolicus and said, “I think Philo will be glad you are here. They are all in the entertainment room.”
From the atrium, Argolicus could hear the voices. Among them, he heard Philo and Aemilia arguing with someone. Argolicus headed toward the large room behind the peristylumwhile Nikolaos went up to the room to store the vellum package.
In the elegant room, the braziers burned hot with coals but there was no food. Philo, Titiana, Aemilia, and Sabinus sat while a large man, dressed in silks in much the same manner as Pansa down to the embroidered soft black shoes stood gesticulating. His brown hair was smoothed down over the crown with scented pomade. Heavy, dark eyebrows arched over deep brown eyes. He strode with a commanding bearing as he addressed the family, “… because my hands are tied. It’s outside the law…”
“Argolicus,” Philo said, jumping up, a look of relief on his face. “This is the Promagistrate Numerius Sulpicius Asina.”
Asina turned toward Argolicus, “Your Sublimity, as you know, this killing, vicious as it may be, is a family matter. There’s no way I can help the family of Servius Norbanus Pius. He was a friend. But, from a legal standpoint, there is nothing I can do. His death is not a public matter.”
Argolicus would have to wait to tell Philo about the ruffian or ask him about the boys on the list. He chest ached where the man had pushed him.
Titiana noticed his rumpled appearance and raised an eyebrow.
He gave her a slight nod and turned toward Asina. “Promagistrate, I explained the legalities to Philo when I arrived. The family has money to take up a suit in a court of law, but first, we must find the killer.”
“Exactly what I was explaining to them,” Asina said. “It is a family matter, they must find the killer to bring suit.”
Argolicus nodded and then asked,“Perhaps one or two of your men might like to take on a special investigation. I’m sure the family would pay well. Men with families who might want to earn extra money. You could give them a leave. Is that a possibility?”
Asina rustled his silks and took a step backward. He pressed his lips together, paused as if thinking, and said, “These men are trained to quell disputes on the street and other disruptions of public order. They are not in any way investigators experienced in finding murderers. The family would not only be wasting money, they would have no satisfaction.”
Asina held fast to his legal point, and Argolicus wondered why he would not want to find the man who killed his friend Pius. “I see. Is there a man for hire who would do this? Help a family with private matters?”
“Families. My wife died, I have only my son,” Asina deflected, then continued with a noncommittal answer. “I will ask around. Perhaps I can find someone.”
“Let me show you the body,” Argolicus said, gesturing across the peristylum toward the room off the atrium. “When you see the wounds, you’ll understand how this murder was so vicious. We’ll leave the family in peace.”
Asina hesitated, then stepped toward Argolicus and followed him toward the cubiculum. Nikolaos had returned from their sleeping quarters and trailed behind. When they entered the room Pius was dressed in fine silks. The sweet scent of the pungent oils the slaves had used to clean the body mixed with a slight odor of decay.
Argolicus told a woman sitting in attendance what they needed to see. She shrugged and lifted the silks to expose the wounds. The wounds had turned dark and glistened with the scented oil.
Asina said, “Like battle wounds,” as he gazed at Pius’ greenish tinged abdomen and the dark maroon stab wounds.
Argolicus said. “A strong arm and great force like the fury of battle. In this case, it was anger. You can see why the entire family is upset and wants to find the murderer. Is there any way you could help his family? I leave tomorrow. I promised Philo I would help, but I have discovered nothing. The more I explore, the wider the circle of possibilities.”
“I know Pius and his family. We connected often. I suppose most people would call us friends. I’d like to help, but I can’t do anything official.”
Argolicus said, “That would relieve my obligation. Philo is a friend of Boethius. They exchanged letters. I came here to deliver a book as a favor and this,” he gestured toward Pius’ body which was covered again. The old woman adjusted folds in the fabric. “The family leaves tomorrow for the funeral in Rome. I wanted you to see the wounds so you would understand how agitated the killer must have been.”
“I’ll find someone,” Asina said. “I’ll talk now to Aemilia to reassure her. I’ll explain that I can help, but unofficially.” He headed toward the door.
“I will tell Philo,” Argolicus said as they left the cubiculum.
He found Philo and his uncle sitting in the office. The big table was now covered with account books and each of them was pouring over one large tome.
“Philo,” Argolicus said standing over the large table. “Asina has agreed to find someone to continue the search. Not a legal search, but a private individual. In some ways, this will be more helpful than anything I could do. A local man will know more about Pius’ connections than I do.”
“Thank you,” Sabinus said. “I don’t know why he was being so difficult.”
“It was a point of law,” Argolicus answered. “Under the law, the matter belongs to the family. Once your brother’s killer is found, then it is up to you to bring it to court. I know this is difficult with his death and the funeral arrangements. But now, you will have someone, perhaps two people, to help you find the killer.”
Philo looked up at Argolicus. “Thank you. I was thinking like a child when I asked you to help. I have so much to learn. I’ve decided I want to be more like you, patient and thorough.”
Argolicus laughed and said, “Philo, it’s as I said when we were out this morning, the more you focus on facts, the better you can facilitate your course with other people. I’m flattered and thank you for the compliment, but it’s more a matter of experi
ence in life than any special skills.”
Philo nodded. “I do. I have much to face. In that way, maybe Pater was right. I need to socialize with others.”
“About your father’s death, I have no clues. The circle of people keeps widening rather than narrowing. I’m wondering if you could tell me about the boys Pacilus mentioned.” He gestured to Nikolaos who pulled the list out of his folds, walked over from the corner where he’d been standing, and handed it to Argolicus.
“And, I want to tell you about an incident we had after we left Pacilus,” Argolicus said.
Chapter 9
The Caution
Before Argolicus could begin, Aemilia interrupted crossing the atrium from the cubiculum containing Pius’ remains. Her bearing was as stately as the first day, and her tunica a fine green embroidered with gold, but her face was haggard.
“Come,” she said gesturing to another cubiculum off the atrium.
Argolicus brushed at his tunic where the ruffian had clutched and crumpled the fabric, nodded and followed Aemilia through the door. He signaled to Philo that he would return. The boy looked disappointed but nodded. His mother took precedence.
Vivid frescos of pastoral scenes with shepherds, sheep, flowers, and trees covered the painted walls. The mosaic floor echoed the theme in flowers set among diagonal patterns in hues of green, gold, and a soft rose. Two benches with tapestry padded cushions faced each other set for conversation. In the far corner a chair and writing table were arranged, the table top clear except for a sheet of vellum, a pen, and a pot of ink.
“My work room,” Aemilia said as she sat with an erect posture on a bench. She gestured to the other bench and nodded to Argolicus to sit. Argolicus mimicked her posture and realized how uncomfortable the backless bench was.
Aemilia folded her hands in her lap. “I hear you are disturbing things. Your visit to the forum is already gossip everywhere. I don’t know how to say this, but you must be more discreet. Your direct and forward manner—I know you want to get to the root of things in a short time—but, your manner has disturbed some important people.”
“I feel the pressure to find Pius’ killer. I have until tomorrow morning. It’s seeming that the more I search, the wider the circle of prospects grows.” He stopped, considered her words and continued. “You may be right. In my time as praefectus urbanus in Rome, I grew accustomed to assuming authority. Here, I am another citizen and have no special authority to question much less probe.”
“Pius, whatever he may have been to his family, was a leader, perhaps the most prominent man in Ostia. Unlike most of the patricians, he lived here. The others maintain their places as villas away from the city. They are Romans from Rome. They consider themselves the elite of the elite. But in Ostia, Pius was the lion. Because of his position and his manner, he ran this town. I have my reputation as his wife.”
Argolicus mused on the decaying and almost empty Ostia. “I understand. Could you help me? I know I asked before, but now you’ve had time to reflect. Can you think of anyone, young or old, male or female, wealthy or otherwise, who would have reason to be angry, very angry, with Pius?”
“You’ve been out. You’ve seen this once thriving port. Pius was just another patrician in Rome, but here he was the leading man. He was one of few who lived here most of the year. Romans who still visit their villas here, bring their household from Rome. They don’t keep a separate staff here. This is a town of ghosts and has beens. If someone was angry enough to confront him face-to-face and kill him, it would be someone who does business here—and, if so, they did business with Pius. Kill? I don’t know.”
“You knew your husband. Did he…Was he…?”
“Did my husband keep other women? Not that I know, and I would have known. Years ago he thought he fell in love with someone, but she turned out to like his wealth more than him. I think that was a lesson he did not forget. I suppose it is possible that some woman killed him out of jealousy, but I find that very, very difficult to believe. He didn’t like encumbrances. That included liaisons that required some form of loyalty. No, I don’t see it.”
“Did he cheat someone out of money or goods?”
“He didn’t cheat. He extracted favors. He held power over people with knowledge. If someone asked him to cheat, that was a thing he knew. He wielded that knowledge to gain favors. A very different way of interacting with people than direct deceit in a business transaction. He brought no one to financial ruin. That wasn’t his way. The way he worked was indirect, subtle, and always about power.”
Aemilia shifted on the bench and leaned forward, her silks rustling with her movement.
“Whatever motivated someone into anger, it was about power, power over someone. It wasn’t about business. It was some way Pius cornered someone with his manipulation. I don’t know how you will find that person but that’s what I can tell you. It’s about power over someone.”
Argolicus nodded in agreement. “You and your family have been gracious in hosting me here. I leave early tomorrow morning for Portus and then home. Everything that I’ve learned has only broadened the circle of people I’ve discovered in Ostia. Instead of narrowing the field at each point the circle gets bigger. I have one more avenue to pursue today with Philo’s help. In all honesty, I don’t think I’ll be able to help your family. I can tell you this. I’m not sure how to tell Philo.”
“Philo is my baby, my younger child, but he is now the paterfamilias. In one day he changed from a young man to an adult and the nominal leader of our family. Learning to handle unpleasant truth is part of that responsibility. He admires you. I see it in his eyes. You are the first man that has gained his true admiration. Oh, he loves Sabinus as his uncle. But, you. You light some spark I haven’t seen before. I think he will listen to anything you say, even a disappointing reality.”
“I’ll tell him when I ask for his help. There’s one more possibility.”
Aemilia leaned even closer, paused, and then returned to her upright position. “Remember, disturb no more important families. Hints and aspersions to our friends don’t help me. Philo is young. Sabinus is, well, Sabinus, a good man for business but no leader. Our position has shifted with Pius’ death. I’ll be frank. I liked my position as his wife. If you disturb the balance at this crucial time, I could lose my importance. I don’t want to move to Rome and disappear in a sea of matrons. I like being queen in a small town.”
Argolicus said, “I understand your feelings. I made a promise to Philo, and therefore to you. I’ll do my best, in the time I have here, to discover who killed your husband. I’ll take your suggestion and tread more lightly but I will still probe.”
“As long as you understand.”
“Which is more important to you, finding Pius’ killer or your reputation?”
Aemilia shifted on the bench, her bracelets clinking against her wrist as she put her hand on the cushion. “Oh, now I see why you make people uncomfortable. You ask direct questions.”
“I do.”
“As long as Pius’ killer goes unknown our family lives under a cloud of suspicion. People will wonder what caused someone to stab him. As I think about it, your finding the killer will restore our family name by bringing suspicion and doubt to resolution. Yes, find his killer but go softly.”
“I shall do everything in my power for the rest of the day, to uncover the man or woman who killed him.” Argolicus paused and smiled at Aemilia. “And, as you instruct, I will go softly. And now I’ll find my tutor and then talk to Philo.”
Upstairs in his room, Argolicus found Nikolaos packing the few things they had brought to the villa.
“Master, I was straightening up for tomorrow. I left your things on the table.” He nodded toward the table with the pen and the vellum.
“Let’s look one more time at everything we have regarding this murder. Where are your notes?”
Nikolaos reached into a deep pocket and brought out his scraps.
“Lay them out on the table. We
have just a few hours left.”
Nikolaos set the vellum scraps in rows across the table arranging them in order from the beginning to this morning’s meeting with the patricians.
Argolicus watched and said, “As of yesterday, we eliminated most of the family. Titiana is the only one left with hatred because of her friend Pacilus. But killing does not seem in her nature. She is rightly angry, and that is all. This morning we met some of the men we know were part of Pius’ circle of corruption but not all of them. I just talked with Aemilia and she seems not to know how decadent Pius was. I’m not the one to tell her.”
“Why not? You usually tell the truth no matter who it touches or how it touches them.”
“On the other hand, I do have some sympathy. She’s holding on to her position as the matron of Ostia. What good would it do to tell her? She knew he held parties for his friends. Why go into specific details? Otherwise, her sense of Pius is cool and evaluative. She, better than any of the rest of the family, knew how he manipulated people. Let her mourn and be free.”
Nikolaos placed the last vellum scrap on the table, then stood back to look.
Argolicus continued, “Aemilia will survive the least wounded. Titiana will harbor her tainted vision of her father. Pius has been shocked into a reality he didn’t know existed.”
Nikolaos nodded and then pointed to the sheets spread on the table. “We found only some of the men…”
“Yes, and our questioning this morning started a train of reactions. There’s the ruffian and the threat. That’s straightforward. We need to find who sent him. More unsettling is that rumors have started that I am disturbing the patricians here. Aemilia wanted me to stop searching at all. She felt her position here in Ostia threatened.”
“To stop? Stop altogether?”
