The Accusers

by Lindsey Davis

  Laco pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. 'The vigiles are holding this man. But will he clear Negrinus?'

  'I have brought you Celadus, who can do that. Corroboration from Bratta would be useful, but it's probably not essential.'

  Verginius Laco, as was his wont, heard me out in silence, thanked me politely, and gave away nothing.

  Even so, I was not too surprised when, three days, later, Helena and I, and her two brothers, were invited to visit the Metelli that evening. Clearly it was not a social invitation, or we would have been offered dinner first. Hoping that somebody wanted to open up, we dressed carefully - Helena in a matching dress and stole in tawny shades, with a full set of silver jewellery; me in a clean tunic, one with itchy rope patterned braid cluttering up the edges. At Helena's pointed suggestion, I had had myself shaved. While I was submitting myself to the cut-throat blade, she read through all our case-notes.

  We travelled in her litter, snuggling up under a rug, which helped the time pass as the bearers trudged slowly through the winter night. For reasons of her own, Helena had made them take a long detour, going up and over the Aventine above our house. It was a steep climb, apparently just so Helena could pop in with a bunch of winter celery for my mother.

  Ma cannot have been expecting this treat, for she was entertaining Aristagoras. He was her eighty-year-old man-friend, a source of much curiosity and highly strung gossip in the family. When we arrived, the amiable fellow grinned a lot then tottered off like an arthritic grasshopper; Ma claimed that he had just called to bring her some cockles.

  While I looked around for a new shellfish jar and failed to find it, Helena got down to her real business: 'Junilla Tacita, we are on our way to see some people and I don't have time to track down Ursulina Prisca. I wondered if by any chance you could help me clarify something...'

  'I know nothing about anything,' Mother moaned, in a pathetic mood. Evenings tired her. She was ready to nod off in her armchair, and probably glad we had driven out her admirer.

  'Oh, you know everything! I was so glad you came with me to see that wet-nurse -'

  'Euboule? Don't trust her!'

  'No, I didn't care for her at all,' Helena agreed. 'But one thing puzzles me. I have remembered that Ursulina told me not to take baby Favonia there because, she said, "you might never get the little darling back" -'

  'Have you done anything for that poor woman, son?' Swiftly distracted, Ma rounded on me.

  'Ursulina? Our next job, Ma,' I lied.

  'Oh you take your time, my boy! She's only desperate.'

  'No, she's not. She's stirring up trouble in her family - something I would never do in mine, of course.'

  'The woman needs help.'

  Ursulina needed another interest in life. I just said mildly, 'We will help her, but she may have to wait. I'm desperate myself. I have to find half a million sesterces for a vicious compensation claim -'

  'So you let someone down?' sneered Ma, so unimpressed by my plight she had failed to take in the large figure.

  'He was tricked by wicked men,' Helena defended me. She managed to get back to her original query: 'It may help Marcus if he knows what Euboule and Zeuko have been up to. He needs to know tonight.'

  Ma stared at her. Luckily she was weary, wanting to be left alone. Her normal readiness to spar was weakened. 'Oh you know what those wet-nurses are like...' Helena waited. 'Rich women dump their babies there, and half the time - so Ursulina says - they forget what the children even look like. They have no idea if what they get back after a year or two is even theirs.'

  'I would recognise Sosia Favonia!'

  'Of course you would. Then again -'Ma, who disapproved of wetnursing, went off into a rant. 'Of course some of those women do it on purpose. They don't want another pregnancy so if they've got a sickly little thing they take it along and make sure the wet-nurse replaces it if misfortune strikes -'

  'That's horrible.'

  'Not if it suits everyone. I could have exchanged a few of mine quite happily!' Ma cackled, and made sure she glared at me.

  Helena Justina rocked back on her seat and stared at the ceiling, her mouth pursed.

  'Still,' said Ma crisply. 'We know exactly what happened in this case of yours.'

  'We do?' I asked.

  Ma sounded complaisant. 'Oh, Ursulina and I worked it all out for you.' I breathed slowly, keeping my expectation in check. 'We could have solved it for you days ago.'

  'Well pardon me, why didn't you say something? So, Mother darling, what's the dirty secret?'

  'Son, it's obvious. Someone creeping up the stairs by moonlight.'

  'What?'

  'Euboule and her daughter probably know. That woman, Calpurnia must have put one over on her husband. Good for her!' chortled my mother. 'She must have had a boyfriend. Don't ask me who - it's your job to spot the culprit. Friend of her husband's, or a pretty slave. So this young man the fuss is all about -'

  'Her son, Negrinus?'

  'You ask them, Marcus. I bet he was not her husband's child.'

  'You could well be right,' Helena said. 'The wife upset her husband, which could mean that he found out one day; the son was disinherited; people blackmailed the family. They call the son Birdy -'

  'He's a cuckoo,' snorted Ma. 'A rich little cuckoo in the fancy nest.'

  Helena fetched Ma her house slippers. I made her a warm drink. Then we continued on our way to visit the Metelli. Perhaps we were about to learn their family secret. Perhaps we already knew it.

  On the other hand, nothing was simple in connection with this family. Helena agreed that it was quite likely the children of Calpurnia Cara still harboured some surprises.

  LVI

  We were escorted into the white salon. Fine oils burned in the gilded lamps, gleaming on the nifty bronze Aphrodite in her matt plastered niche. The two sisters, Rubiria Juliana and Rubiria Carina, were displaying handsome jewellery as they sat in genteel postures on the best-positioned ornate couch. Their husbands spread themselves on other plush upholstery, one on each side of the women. Negrinus sat gloomily one along from Verginius Laco, feet planted in front of him and elbows on his knees; beyond Negrinus was a tanned, thickset man we had never seen before. Helena and I took places near the scowling Canidianus Rufus, forming a half-circle. We ended up opposite the stranger. He stared at us curiously, and we returned the compliment.

  The Camillus brothers arrived last, though fortunately not too late. They redeemed themselves by their smartness. Each wore well-buffed leather boots, tight belts, and identical white tunics; I detected their mother's hand in their overall neat turnout. Neither had his usual hair parting and I reckoned the noble Julia Justa had tackled them both with her fine bone comb before letting them loose.

  Justinus immediately nodded a greeting to the thickset man. That confirmed he was Julius Alexander, the freedman and land agent from Lanuvium. Despite their tussle over Perseus, when the lads stationed themselves on the remaining seat Justinus sat adjacent to the freedman. Both then leaned over the curled arms of their couches and muttered in an undertone about the vigiles' fatal handling of the door porter.

  Silent slaves handed trays of savoury fancies, which we mostly left untouched in case they crumbled disastrously in our fingers; others brought delicate silver thimbles of rather sweet white wine. Not a lot was said. Everyone was waiting for the attendants to withdraw. Carina gave the signal early, and they vanished. People tried surreptitiously to find somewhere to discard their little wine tots. I bent forward and placed Helena's and mine on the floor beneath our couch, giving myself heartburn. Out of sight behind my back, Helena massaged my ribs. She always knew when I was in danger of emitting an unseemly belch.

  Since nobody else seemed keen to break the silence, I began. 'This meeting follows the death of your mother, presumably? Has that freed you to be more open?'

  Verginius Laco, thin, austere and understated, now seemed to be the family leader. 'There has been a long disagreement about making public a certai
n situation.'

  'Calpurnia wanted to keep the secret?' I smiled politely. 'If it helps, Falco and Associates already assume that all your problems centre on the parentage of Birdy.'

  Carina jumped. 'Please don't call him that!' I had tried it out deliberately. None of my party was surprised when his sister said unhappily, 'That was his wife's name for him. None of us ever use it.'

  'We understand.' Helena was sympathetic. She dropped in the answer almost as if it hardly counted: 'Saffia employed an unkind nickname to remind everyone of what she knew: that Negrinus was not really his father's son.'

  'Took you long enough to guess!' Canidianus Rufus seemed to be here on sufferance. Always edgy, his unhappiness was worse tonight. Whatever was about to be exposed, he hated it. His wife, Juliana, stared down at her lap.

  'Once you know,' I agreed, 'it explains a great deal.' Rufus humphed.

  More relaxed than his brother-in-law, Laco leaned sideways on a couch arm, hands linked, surveying me. He had made a habit of holding back, waiting for me to reveal what I knew before he spoke up. Expecting candour, I suddenly had a feeling that he was still testing me, still ready to disguise the facts. I became more careful.

  'So, Falco -' He was pretending to be friendly. 'You understand us now?'

  I paused, then went with the theory that Negrinus was illegitimate. 'Around two years ago, Rubirius Metellus - who thought himself the father of a happy family, with a son moving up through the Senate - was shocked to discover that that son was not his own. I suppose this information had long been known to the wet-nurse who cared for Negrinus as a baby - Euboule. She somehow discovered his parentage from Calpurnia Cara. Over the years, she heavily blackmailed Calpurnia with the threat of telling her husband, causing Calpurnia enormous grief - not to mention the sale of her jewellery.'

  As I unravelled the story, Laco and the others listened quietly. Negrinus had his chin up slightly, but he was taking it well - so far.

  At my side, Helena moved slightly. 'In time,' she began conversationally, as if talking this through quietly at home with me, 'Euboule was not alone in blackmailing the family. It is obvious that she told her daughter Zeuko, who told the porter, Perseus. His demands must have seemed the final indignity. But long before then, enormous damage had been done by someone else - Saffia Donata.'

  This time at the mention of her name, everyone tensed. I carried on the story. 'Rubirius Metellus was given the bad news when Saffia Donata began to squeeze. Saffia had found out during her first marriage to Licinius Lutea. She had placed their son Lucius for nursing with Zeuko. For Saffia, picking up an indiscreet remark from a wetnurse must have been a godsend. She and Lutea had money troubles. The Metelli were very wealthy. Saffia formed an audacious plan to divorce and remarry herself to Negrinus. Getting right in among the family must have helped her apply pressure - and it will have disguised from other people what she was up to.'

  'It is shocking,' said Helena. 'We have rarely heard of such determined abuse. But once she had produced a child to tie her to the Metelli, Saffia began a vicious programme of extortion. Not just occasional payments; she wanted everything.'

  Carina broke in: 'I want to make it plain, there was never any sordid relationship between my father and Saffia.'

  'No,' Helena agreed gently.

  Carina, once said to have been estranged from her family, seemed most keen to defend Metellus. 'My father was a man who stood up for himself. Some people found him aggressive - but he was just as strong in his loyalty to Negrinus. When he found out the truth, Father refused to reject him, you know.'

  'We can see that,' I reassured her. 'And Saffia relied on it. Without your father's feeling for Negrinus, Saffia's plan would have collapsed. She needed the family desperate to cover up the secret. So Negrinus and his father were in shock together. Money flowed out of the coffers until Saffia's demands drove them to corruption.'

  'We were desperate!' Negrinus himself spoke up. This was the first time we had heard him acknowledge what happened during his term of public office. 'Saffia had drained our coffers. As an aedile, you have to keep up your style in society -'

  'You don't have to plunder the state!' I commented.

  'There was nothing else we could do. Saffia was insatiable. Father even sold the land that had formed her dowry - he said it served her right.'

  'Why on earth did you stay married to her?' I scoffed.

  'One of her conditions for keeping quiet. Part of her cunning. She was always with us, making sure she kept up the pressure.'

  'Besides, she pretended she was fond of you?'

  Negrinus flushed and fell silent. I had only met her once, but she was memorably pretty. That explained the second child he and Saffia produced together. Whether it was his son or not, he must have reason to suppose it might be. At least the newborn stood more chance with him than with Lutea.

  'And the will?' I asked. 'Furious and heartbroken when the truth came out, Metellus changed his will, disinheriting both you and your mother who had betrayed him?'

  'Saffia made him do that,' Negrinus insisted, writhing with unhappiness.

  'And that was when your father called in Paccius Africanus to advise on how she could receive a huge legacy? A big mistake, I fear.' I leaned forward. 'Paccius had to be told the reason for the gift to Saffia? So two years ago, when you were first running for aedile, Paccius Africanus learned that you were illegitimate?'

  Negrinus nodded and said weakly, 'Paccius has always been professional.'

  'Oh I am sure he kept it confidential!' I mocked.

  Verginius Laco also sat forward. 'I am with you, Falco. In retrospect, I believe Paccius told Silius Italicus - who then lay in wait until he could institute corruption charges. It was calculated.'

  'And callous.' I asked Negrinus slowly, 'Did Paccius actually suggest to your father that he use your post as aedile to make money?'

  Negrinus was surprisingly astute about that: 'You mean, can we mount corruption charges against Paccius? No. Father never said where the idea came from.'

  'Nor, for that matter,' Laco added, 'can we prove that Paccius informed Silius of the situation.'

  'You lose all round,' I told the victim.

  'I do.'

  Aelianus, frowning, wanted to go back a step. 'I don't understand,' he asked, 'why Paccius had to be told the reason for giving money to Saffia?'

  His sister shook her head at him. 'Think about it, Aulus. Experts say the will is open to contest. Paccius had to know why the Metellus children would not make a claim against it. He had to be told that the daughters would hold off to protect Negrinus - while Negrinus himself had no real claim in any case.'

  'Your illegitimacy -' Aelianus never knew how to be sympathetic to a loser - 'bars your inheritance?'

  'What inheritance? There is nothing left,' Juliana's husband snorted. Then Rufus leapt up and stomped out. His wife briefly covered her mouth in distress.

  People had called him bad-tempered; I could see why he might be. His respectable marriage to a daughter of a wealthy family had turned very sour. He had probably even lost financially. He had tolerated the scandal until now. But he had had enough. I caught sight of Juliana's face. She knew she was heading for divorce.

  I breathed slowly. 'So will you now admit the truth about Negrinus?'