‘No one told me that.’ Suddenly she was standing very still. ‘But it is certain? Antoninus is dead?’
I nodded. ‘And not long before I got there, by the look of it.’
‘I see!’ She looked wildly around the room, and then composed herself. ‘It seems there was a curse upon our wedding feast! Well, citizen, at least I can confirm what you said about the note. Helena Domna made a point of telling me that Antoninus had invited you. You were to call on him at the ninth hour she said – and of course that was after the wedding was postponed, so you could not have planned beforehand to go and murder him. Is that what is required? I could even identify the writing tablet that was used, I think. I understand it was unusual, and my mother-in-law described it vividly to me.’ She gazed around the guardroom as if to look for it.
The commander shook his head. ‘That will not be necessary. You have said quite enough to verify that Libertus was telling me the truth. I do not think we’ll need to detain you very long. Just one question more. Can you confirm that your wedding guests were not required to bring a knife?’
She shrugged dismissively. ‘They would not have needed one. Our household makes a practice of supplying them. Why do you ask that? Did Antoninus have one with him when he died?’
The commander raised an eyebrow at me. ‘In a manner of speaking, you might say so,’ he observed.
Any irony was clearly lost on her. ‘Well, I suppose he would have eaten when he got home again. Few of our guests remained to take refreshment after my poor husband died – and Antoninus was amongst the earliest to be gone.’ Her voice was wavering,
‘Then . . .’ The commander gestured to the door.
She pulled the veil across her face, as if to leave and beckoned Pulchra to accompany her. Then all at once she seemed to change her mind. She whirled around again. ‘Oh, Jupiter! I suppose, I shall have to tell the truth. It will only come out in questioning, if you speak to anyone. I was very foolish, I can see that now. But now he’s dead!’ She clapped both hands against her face. ‘Oh gentlemen, I’m very much afraid that I occasioned it . . .’ She tailed off, and then said in some distress, ‘I’m sorry, citizens.’ She looked as if she was ready to collapse.
The commander took her arm and led her to the stool, poured out a little of his own jug of wine and lifted the pewter goblet to her lips. It was not until she’d raised the netting from her face and taken a good swallow that he spoke again. ‘You occasioned it, you say? What do you mean by that?’
She shook her head. ‘I think I might have . . .’ She reached for the cup herself and took another sip. ‘You know he had private dealings with my husband, I suppose?’
I saw Redux stiffen, and he glanced at me. He was thinking about that statue, that seemed very clear. ‘What about?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘He never told me that. I only know that quite a lot of coins were changing hands and they would spend a long time closeted alone. Antoninus was always spoken of as though he was simply an ambitious friend and he always brought a gift of some kind when he called – as people do when they want patronage – but I tell you, citizens, I didn’t trust the man. My husband always seemed terse and preoccupied whenever they had met.’ She took another furtive swallow of the commander’s wine. ‘I sometimes wondered if Antoninus was actually a spy, whether for the Emperor or Honorius himself. He used to call on my husband very late sometimes.’
‘As he did last night, for instance,’ I put in quietly. I was not sure where this was leading, but I was interested.
She put the wine cup down and looked at me, surprised. ‘I don’t know how you know that, but indeed that’s true. GS I tried to find out what he’d come about, but he would not say. They were closeted together for an hour or two, and I confess I stood outside the door and tried to listen in, but I could only catch a muttered word or two. Then my mother-in-law found me and I had to go away. But he was there – and that’s the point, you see.’
The commander glanced at me. ‘I don’t see at all. What has all this to do with how he died?’
‘Well, when he came it seems he brought some garum as a gift – the most expensive kind that you can only get in Rome. The usual present for my husband, I suppose. I found a small container of it in his room today and knew at once it was not one of ours.’
‘You didn’t mention any such amphora earlier,’ I said rather sharply, ‘when I was asking about your husband’s death?’
She seemed to feel that I had been severe, because she rose and went to gaze at the goddess in the niche – as if to ask forgiveness from the deity. When she spoke her voice was quavering. ‘I did not really know of it, until you’d left the house,’ she said. ‘Helena Domna found it, and mentioned it to me. With all the preparations for the wedding feast today, I had not been in the room, but she went in to get some grave goods from his private chest to lay around his bier. She brought it out to me.’ She paused again.
‘And . . .?’ the commander prompted.
She took a long deep breath before she said, ‘I have never cared for Antoninus, and I sent it back. I did not want to seem to be accepting gifts from him. Can you understand? It was a signal that I did not want him calling at the house when I was vulnerable and on my own.’ She turned to face us, and there were tears upon her cheeks. ‘But then when I heard that he was lying dead . . . well, you can imagine what I thought. It would be a kind of dreadful justice, wouldn’t it, if Antoninus died from eating his own poisoned food. The same food that had poisoned my husband earlier?’
‘But Antoninus wasn’t—’ Redux had begun, but I interrupted him.
‘Surely the garum was unopened, though? You would not have sent it back to him half-used? And how could anything your husband ate last night possibly have affected him so suddenly today?’
She looked startled for a moment, then she gave a nervous laugh. ‘You are quite right, of course. It was stoppered, and it was obviously full. So Honorius could not have tasted it today – I wondered for a moment if he might have done. Well, there you are, I have confessed my foolish act – I thought that I should tell you at once, while I was here.’ She raised her limpid eyes to me and smiled.
I was still wondering if this might be relevant. ‘You are quite sure that it was Antoninus who brought it?’ I enquired. ‘It could not have been a gift from someone else?’
‘I’m as certain as I can be, in the circumstance. The doorman confirms that he arrived with it. And I am sure, Libertus, that he would tell you the same thing, if you care to come and speak to him again. And now . . .’ She was visibly shaking with what might have been relief. ‘If there is no more that I can help you with, perhaps I might go home.’ She tailed off and broke into little breathless sobs, until Pulchra bustled forward.
‘There, there, madam. Do not distress yourself. This is not your doing. It will be all right.’ She patted Livia’s hand and murmured to her, as though she were a child.
The commander was clearly embarrassed by this emotional display. He was a military man, and not used to female ways. He gave an awkward cough. ‘Madam citizen, your servant is quite right. You obviously haven’t heard how Antoninus died?’
‘But surely he was poisoned? I thought . . . That is, I supposed . . . After Honorius . . .’ She made a helpless little gesture with her hands.
Redux had been bursting to say something all along, and now he could contain himself no longer. ‘He wasn’t poisoned. He was lying dead across his desk. Somebody had stuck a knife into his back.’
‘Stabbed?’ Her voice was almost shrill with shock. ‘But who? How?’ She paused and with an obvious effort to regain her self-control, turned to the commander. ‘That’s why you asked about the knife?’
He nodded. ‘Though it is just possible the blade was poisoned, I believe. The tribune thought it was. Largely because the victim had clearly died at once.’
She got up abruptly from the stool at this. ‘So, it might yet have been dipped in that amphora?’ she began, pressin
g her hands against her heart again.
The commander looked at me. I shook my head. ‘I doubt that very much. The toxin would not be strong enough to kill him,’ I explained. ‘Not if it was diluted in the garum. Remember that it took your husband a little time to die – he stumbled and the servants thought at first that he was merely taken sick – and he would have swallowed quite a lot of poison in the wine. So it would be surprising if Antoninus died at once from the small amount of the same concoction that could be carried on a blade.’
‘Ah!’ She let out a little sigh and smiled tremulously at us. ‘So it was not my fault at all? You are quite sure of that? So you won’t be needing me?’ This time she did drop the veil across her face again.
‘I think it would be sensible to test the garum, though, if the commander could arrange that for us?’ I said. ‘I’m sure he could find a convicted criminal, who would be glad of a swift death – just in case there should be anything amiss.’
‘Of course. There would be several candidates – specially if I offered a pardon should the man survive.’ The commander seemed delighted that he had found a job to do. He turned to Livia, who was looking dubious. ‘Don’t worry about the fate of the criminal, my dear. He would have died in any case. And Libertus is quite right, we should do the test. Somebody poisoned your husband, after all.’
‘Perhaps we should test the other food as well,’ I said. I had been watching Redux all this while. He had lost his demeanour of effete, plump elegance and was twisting his fingers together like an impatient girl, as if he were uncertain whether to speak out. I decided for him. ‘Though I think we can ignore the wine jug on the window shelf, since Redux has already tested that for us.’
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?’
Death at Pompeia's Wedding Page 16
