One Virgin Too Many mdf-11

by Lindsey Davis

  The man seemed vaguely familiar. Perhaps he held some position of honor, or I might have seen him lounging in the good seats at the theater. Jove knew who he was.

  We marched boldly inside the main porch. I found a chamberlain. Our manner had warned him we were trouble, but we proved quiet enough to win him over. "I apologize; this is very urgent. Before the fun begins this evening, we need to see the Master on a confidential matter. Didius Falco and Camillus Aelianus. It concerns an unfortunate occurrence yesterday."

  The chamberlain was suave, expressionless-and without doubt apprised of the scandal in the Grove. To the disbelief of my companion, we got straight in.

  That was bad. The Master must be playing this the clever way.

  ***

  At first it was not the Master himself we met, but his vice-a flustered barnacle covered with warts from whom, had he been a commoner instead of a pedigreed noble, I would not have bought a fresh fish in case it gave me bellyache. He was accompanied by the college's vice-flamen-a pallid cheese with a drip on his nose who must be the main source of this month's summer cold in Rome. These two stand-ins greeted us nervously, explained who they were, and mumbled a lot about having to officiate at that day's rites in the temple because the real Master and flamen had been called away. They were spared embarrassment when their principals turned up in traveling clothes.

  I stood to attention deferentially. So, at this cue, did Helena's brother.

  "Camillus Aelianus!" Washing his hands in a bowl held by a slave, the Master nodded congenially to show that he recognized him. "And you are-?"

  "Didius Falco." It was probably convention in such company to name your own association with religion, but I was not prepared to admit being the guardian of the geese. "I have worked for the Emperor." They could guess how. "I am here as a friend to this young man. Aelianus had a rather unpleasant experience in the late hours of yesterday. We do feel that he should report it formally, should you be unaware of what occurred."

  "I am so sorry to keep you waiting; we had extra business at the Sacred Grove." The Master was a huge-bellied man whose size must have been enormous long before he took office in a post with compulsory feasting. Dogging him, the cult's sacrificing flamen had neither girth nor height, but made his presence felt by a harsh laugh at inappropriate moments.

  "A purification rite?" I asked quietly.

  The efficient chamberlain must have warned his head of household what we had said we wanted. "Exactly. The Grove has been polluted by an iron blade, but due solemnities have now been offered-a suovetaurilia."

  Major expiation by swine, ram, and bull. Sorted. Three perfect animals rounded up and their throats cut, the very next day.

  Would a bloody corpse be dealt with just as briskly? In this cult, yes.

  The three subsidiary officers had found seats. The ears of grain in their headdresses nodded gently in the light from a bank of suspended oil lamps; shadows passed across their faces. They were used to the effect. Aelianus, who had hoped to join them, must have trained himself to accept the sight. I managed to contain a smirk. Just.

  "So, young man! Tell me what happened to you," offered the Master, so graciously that my teeth set. He was now changing into a flowing white dinner gown, like those the others already wore. Over one shoulder was placed a folded vestment. The feast must have been delayed; still assisted by the discreet slave, he dressed hurriedly. The pressure on us rose. Well, nobody wanted the Arval cook to start bewailing a burned roast.

  Aelianus exhibited his least attractive scowl and said bluntly, "I fell over a corpse at the back of your pavilion, sir."

  "Ah." The big man revealed no surprise, only delicate concern. Garbed for the feast now, he gestured to the slave to leave us. "That must have been a terrible experience."

  "You saw the body?" I slipped in.

  "I did." He was making no attempt at subterfuge. Normally in my job you meet head-on resistance, but this was a familiar scenario too; I knew it was far worse. To deal with complete openness is like falling into a grain storage pit. It can very quickly suffocate.

  "The body subsequently disappeared." Still upset, Aelianus spoke too harshly. If I let him continue in this style, we would lose any grip on the conversation that we still possessed.

  The Master looked from one to the other of us. It was a fine display of gentle reproach. "Oh dear. You are suspecting dark deeds!" I felt my cheek twitch. We could have been discussing a few missing denarii from their petty cash, instead of a man who had been honoring the old religion, hacked to death in a tent.

  "You tidied up?" I posed the question without exaggerated disapproval. These people were intelligent. They knew that I knew they wished that their secret had remained within the cult.

  The Master immediately increased his air of deep apology. "I am afraid we did. It was, after all, the main night of our annual festival and we hoped to avoid panic among the attendant staff and members of the public who were visiting the Games. The Sacred Grove of the Dea Dia had been polluted too, so there were considerations of how to reconsecrate it as swiftly as possible… Well, this is a most dreadful business, but there is no untoward secrecy. I am grateful that you have come to me with your concerns. Let me explain what has happened, as far as we know it-"

  "The dead man was one of the Brethren?" I asked.

  "Unhappily, yes." I noticed he made no attempt to give a name. "A sad domestic incident. The woman responsible was found wandering in the Grove immediately afterwards, covered with blood and weeping hysterically, totally deranged."

  "You call it a 'domestic incident'; do you mean she is a relative of her victim?"

  "Sadly, yes. Is it not true, Falco, that people are most likely to be murdered by members of their families?"

  I acknowledged it. "Men get killed by their wives, usually. You saw the woman yourself?"

  For the first time he did appear to be overcome by the grim story. "Yes. Yes, I did." He was silent for a second, then went on. "She became calmer, seeming bemused. I spoke to her gently, and she admitted what had happened."

  "Was she capable of giving any rational explanation?"

  "No."

  "Difficult!" I said dryly.

  "These things happen. It was quite unexpected, or the ghastly consequences might have been averted. Our member, it now transpires, had been troubled by the woman's bouts of mental stress but was attempting to protect her by concealing them. People do that, you know." I made a face that said I knew. "I have made further enquiries, and I am satisfied that this is the truth. Her mind went. Whether it was under some great burden that cannot now be discovered or some unfortunate natural illness, we may never know."

  "Official action?"

  "No, Falco. I have consulted the Emperor today, but there is nothing to gain by a court case. It would only add to the immense distress of those involved. Nothing remained for us to do but arrange for the body to be given reverently into the care of his relatives for burial. The poor woman has been assigned to her own close family, on the promise she will be nursed and constantly guarded."

  At this, the two deputy officials we had first met seemed to shift slightly in their seats. Glances passed between them and the Master, then the vice-Master told him, "We were just discussing the arrangements before you returned."

  "Good, good!"

  I thought that exchange contained more meaning than the mere words implied. Was some sort of warning being given?

  The Master was gazing at me, as if waiting to see if I pressed the issue. I decided to oblige. "Of course there will be no publicity?"

  He assented in silence.

  "What was the name of the Brother who died?" Aelianus put in.

  The Master gave him a narrow look from under his eyebrows. "I am afraid I cannot tell you. It has been agreed-" He spoke heavily, and his tone implied the agreement had been granted by Vespasian, at the consultation which the Master had claimed to have had. "The name of the family involved in this terrible tragedy will not be release
d."

  The three other Brothers shifted in their seats. I was now in no doubt that they knew the whole story. They were rapt by the way their chief romanced us with the official version.

  I pursed my lips, drawing in a long, slow breath. Once, I would have made myself unpleasant, insisting on further information-and I would have got nowhere. When the Establishment closes ranks, the personnel know just how to do it. Aelianus was hopping and eager to pursue it, but I shook my head slightly, warning him not to make a fuss.

  "Young man," sympathized the Master, "I am most perturbed that you should have been drawn into this sad episode while attending on our rites. It must have been an appalling shock. I will speak to your father, but do pass on to him my sincere regrets-and you, Didius Falco, thank you-thank you most heartily for your help and support."

  "Rely on our discretion." I smiled, trying not to make it grim. The big man in the dinner robe had not asked us to keep quiet; still, it was understood that we would be thoughtful towards the distraught family involved. "I am a trusted imperial agent, and Aelianus, as you know, regards the Arval Brethren with the greatest respect."

  To ask who was in line for the unexpected new vacancy would have been crass. I tipped Aelianus the wink, and we saluted all around, then left.

  Almost before we were out of the room, there was a murmur of conversation behind us. The Master's deputy began saying, as if he could hardly contain himself, "We had a visitation from himself just before all that-" Then the door closed firmly.

  I gazed at young Camillus, searching to see how he interpreted our interview. He was Helena's brother all right. He was angry at how we had been led along and finessed with stonewall courtesy. In view of the antipathy he had already harbored, he was blaming me for the lack of results.

  His mouth tightened in distaste. "Well, as I said at the start of this evening, Falco-that was a waste of time!"

  XIV

  We took three strides. Between the exit and us, the Brethren were processing into the Master's dining room. We stopped.

  Behind us, the Master and his cronies came out from the room we had left. The big man paused, clapped Aelianus on the shoulder, then apologized that since the feast was to take place in his private house, where couches were limited, he could not invite us. The ordinary members had slowed, so the Master and other officers could now join the head of their group and lead the way. Aelianus and I stayed where we were to watch the corn dollies all process to their last formal meal of the festival.

  "Aulus, I thought on the first day they squeezed you in to watch?"

  "Yes."

  "But today the Master reckons they are pushed for space! Dining room must have shrunk."

  "You see conspiracies everywhere, Falco."

  "No. Just two unwanted enquirers who have been fed a very sticky porridge of half-truths."

  Probably all the Master was doing was covering up a tragic incident that would hurt those involved if it became a public scandal. I sympathized with the stricken family; after all, my own had troubles we preferred to veil. But I hated to be patronized.

  Tripping over the hems of their white robes, the Brothers jostled past us. They were the pride of the patrician ranks, so half were tipsy and some senile. I counted them under my breath. There were one or two extras, but the corn wreaths stood out. All twelve. Wrong; eleven. One had been carved up last night by a mad wife. At least, I supposed it was a wife, though on reflection the Master had not specifically said so. (I was doubting him on every aspect now.)

  "Full complement. Tell me, would-be novitiate, do they usually all make the effort to attend?"

  "No. They reckon to muster between three and nine. A full quorum occurred once at the end of Nero's reign, and is still spoken of with awe."

  "That Master must have owned a spectacular cook."

  "I expect they were going to debate the crazy emperor."

  "Surprise me!"

  The party had all crammed into the triclinium. We could hear mutters as they vied for the best couches, and groans as the old men among them struggled to recline their raddled bodies encumbered with the clinging folds of their robes. I could imagine their eagerness to hear salacious details of the murder and to know how bad a scandal affected their order.

  "Well, time to go, Falco." Aelianus had the concentration of a gnat. "There's nothing for us here."

  "That's what they want you to think. The Master of your admired order has turned us inside out. Now I know how a skinned rabbit feels as its fur is peeled."

  "I stumbled across a ghastly domestic incident. Don't you believe that?"

  "Oh yes."

  "So the Master told us the truth."

  "Partially-probably."

  "He seemed perfectly open and reasonable."

  "A lovely fellow. But I bet he cheats at draughts."

  Four youths emerged from a side door. They wore matching white tunics, and all carried salvers.

  Aelianus, who had been on the verge of abandoning any pretense of comradeship with me, turned slightly. Despite himself, he caught my eye. Once again, curiosity had won, and he was suddenly back in the game.

  "Which was it?" I muttered.

  He signaled to the third boy. I bounded across and grabbed him, whipped the salver away from him, dragged one arm up his back, and marched him into an alcove behind a statue. Aelianus blocked escape and confirmed aloud that this was the young man who ran away from questioning at the Grove earlier.

  ***

  He was about thirteen. A few spots and stubbles. A pigeon-chested young lout who reckoned he could do as he liked and we had to put up with it. Aelianus wrinkled his nose. The pristine white uniform covered a body that shunned bathing in a routine adolescent way.

  "Let me go! I have my duties at the feast-"

  "This is the camillus with the runaway legs?" I asked Aelianus. "I wonder why? What's he hiding?"

  "Obviously something!" Aelianus leaned on the lad, squashing him up against the statue.

  "Something bad, I'd say. What's your name, Speedy?"

  "Find out. I've done nothing."

  "Can you prove that? There has been a murder, clever. So what did you see of it?"

  "Nothing!" He glared back, acting dumb. He was cocky, but I could play the official line. We were in somebody's house, however; we might be discovered and thrown out at any minute. I had to act fast.

  "What shall we do?" I mused to Aelianus. "The vigiles would be the nearest who own a set of thumbscrews, but it's not my favorite district cohort. Why should they get all the fun? No, leave the esparto mat boys to comb the streets for arsonists. I reckon we'll haul this little beggar to the Palace."

  "The Praetorians?"

  "No-they're far too soft." Any lad in Rome would know the Praetorian Guard were vicious. "I'll give him to Anacrites."

  "The Chief Spy?" Aelianus was playing along with me. "Oh, have a heart, Falco!"

  "Well, of course he's a brute; I can't stand his dirty methods. Still, he's got the best equipment. Speedy won't last long in the underground torture cell."

  While Aelianus was shuddering dramatically, the boy squealed in panic. "I done nothing, I done nothing!"

  One thing he had done was to make too much noise. I glanced over my shoulder, but despite his cries, the household staff were all absorbed in serving the first course at the feast. The Brothers were raising quite a din too, as they fell on their ceremonial hors-d'oeuvres and gossiped with their mouths full about last night's grim events. "Answer my questions then, son. A man was killed, rather unpleasantly. What did you see in the Sacred Grove of the Dea Dia?"

  "I didn't see him killed."

  "Well then? Do you know who he was?"

  "One of the Brothers. They all look alike once they get dressed up. I don't know all their names."

  "Did you see the corpse?"

  "No. Someone else found it; one of the temple priests, I think. He went off sick today." The priest's own choice, or the Master's decision? "I only saw the Master's atten
dants taking the body away on a trestle, covered up."

  "What else?" asked Aelianus quietly. Without any training, he now fell into the role of the friendly, well-spoken interrogator-the less brutal one. I could live with that.

  "I saw her," gasped Speedy, gratefully turning to this more sympathetic fellow. "The woman who did it. I saw her."

  Suddenly he was less sure of himself, and looked more his age: a boy. An extremely frightened one.

  "Will you tell us about her?"

  "The men who were moving the body didn't want people hanging about. I was having a good gawp, but they ordered me to move away. As I was going, she appeared in front of me."

  "Can you describe her?"

  The camillus was too young to have started taking mental notes of women's attributes. He looked helpless.

  "What was she wearing?" I suggested.

  "White. With her hair all tied up. White-but the front of her dress was covered with blood. That was how I knew she did it."

  "Of course. You must have been terrified," Aelianus sympathized.

  "I was all right," he bragged, comforting himself in retrospect. He had probably had no time for real fear.

  I stuck with the job in hand: "Was she a young woman?"

  "Oh no." To a boy his age that could mean anyone over twenty-five.

  "A gray-haired granny?"

  "Oh no."

  "A matron? Was she high class? Did she wear jewelry?"

  "I don't know-I was just staring at her. She had a wild look. And

  …" He stopped.

  "And what?" asked Aelianus patiently.

  "She was holding a bowl." The boy's voice had dropped. This seemed to be the source of his hidden terror. "She was holding a bowl like this-" He demonstrated, miming the action of carrying a vessel lodged on the hip, with one hand on the far rim. We were silent. He struggled. "It was full of blood. Like in a temple sacrifice."