Marcus made a pretence of looking under the tables, but there was clearly nothing to see and he withdrew, muttering, ‘Very well, get on with your work.’ The slaves’ hands resumed their tasks obediently, but their eyes never left us until we were once more back in the gloom of the corridor.
‘Excellence,’ I began again, but Marcus was not listening. His gaze had fallen on the glimmer of light beyond the skimpy curtain which screened the latrine.
‘There he is!’ Marcus strode forward and thrust the curtain aside.
The florid citizen-trader whom I had surprised earlier was standing there, his candle guttering on a shelf while he readjusted his toga. He stared at us for a moment in affronted astonishment, and then he and Marcus spoke as one man.
‘You!’
Marcus recovered first. ‘Tommonius Lunaris! What brings you to this house?’
The man he had called ‘Tommonius’ smiled faintly. ‘The same occasion as brings you here yourself, Excellence. I was bidden to the feast by Perennis Felix. I had business with him earlier in the town. I was astonished to see you at the banquet – I thought you in Corinium. Was not the lawsuit scheduled for today?’
‘Indeed it was. I presided at it before I came here.’
‘And how did you find my old goat of a father-in-law? Innocent, no doubt, since he has wealthy friends on the council.’
‘I found him guilty,’ Marcus said. ‘And sentenced him to exile.’
Tommonius smiled grimly. ‘Where he will die in comfort in his bed. Well, I bear him no malice. He did me a favour, killing the scoundrel who dishonoured my bed. No, I reserve my anger for the courts – saving your presence, Excellence – and for this fellow’s family, who brought this disgraceful case in the first place. What purpose did it serve except to bring me into disrepute and turn me into a laughing stock in every market place in the province? You know that there were itinerant pedlars calling after me in Glevum today? “Better hurry home, Tommonius, before your wife starts missing you and your father-in-law is charged with another murder.” It prevented me from concluding at least one serious bargain.’
Marcus said placatingly, ‘Yes, I understand it must be distressing. To learn that your wife—’
‘My wife!’ Tommonius exclaimed. ‘That is not important. So, the woman had a lover – she was discreet enough, and it was no great loss. She brought no significant dowry with her when we married – her father’s wealth is all in his home and business – and she had begun to bore me long ago. And I her. But I provided for her, she was decorative and her father’s estate would have come into my hands when he died. It was an arrangement which suited us both.’
I stared at him. This was a peculiarly Roman view of marriage, I thought. But Tommonius had not finished.
‘Now I shall have to divorce her,’ he continued, ‘and have her exiled to some tiresome island. I shall keep the measly marriage portion, of course, since she was caught in flagrante delicto, but thanks to this lawsuit I have lost all hope of the real money. The estate will have gone to that wretched lover’s family as recompense for a trumped-up murder charge – such of it as the old man didn’t manage to smuggle away with him. Thanks to the vagaries of the law.’ He picked up his candle. ‘By the by, I congratulate you on your own marriage, Excellence. May the lady bring you more good fortune than mine did.’
He made as if to leave but Marcus blocked his path. ‘You saw what happened upstairs?’ my patron asked.
‘To Felix?’ Tommonius nodded. ‘Indeed I did. A pity, I had hoped to strike a bargain with him. I hear he was a great importer of goods. But Gaius says it is a judgement of the gods. I trust that is more just than the judgements of men.’ He smiled. ‘Excuse me, Excellence, but I have no great respect for the law – even if you are the one to wield it. Good evening, gentlemen.’
Marcus, who had listened to this in silence, inclined his head and stood back to allow the trader to pass. Tommonius retreated with as much dignity as a man can after he has been surprised in the latrine.
Marcus watched him go. ‘You know who that is, Libertus? The husband of the woman in that murder case this afternoon.’
‘Yes, Excellence,’ I said respectfully. ‘I had rather gathered that.’
‘I heard that he had come to Glevum. I wonder why Felix invited him to the feast?’
I had no real answer to that. ‘For the same reason that he invited Egobarbus, perhaps?’ I suggested. ‘Because he was hoping to strike some bargain with him and wanted to offer him entertainment at no cost to himself?’ From what I had heard of Felix that seemed likely enough.
‘Yes,’ Marcus said. ‘Egobarbus. We are no nearer to finding him.’
‘Nor Zetso either,’ I reminded him. ‘And the man you call Egobarbus is—’
Marcus shook his head impatiently. ‘Terrified out of their wits, most like, the pair of them, after what happened to Felix.’ He motioned for the lamp and began to stride back down the corridor, rather to my relief. I suspect the speed of his step was not unrelated to the overpowering odour of the latrine.
I trotted after him.
Marcus was still talking. ‘Zetso was bodyguard to his master and Egobarbus was the only Celt present. They must both have felt that if any questions were asked, they were likely to fall on them. The public torturers are not always scrupulous in their examination of non-citizens who find themselves under suspicion.’ We were at the top of the staircase by now, and he waved away the lamp-bearer. Most of the other guests had taken advantage of our disappearance and made good their own, and slaves were already moving to clear the tables and sweep the floors with their bunches of broom. Marcus turned to smile at me. ‘Well, it is too late now. I suppose it is unimportant. Fortunately, on this occasion there is nothing to be suspicious about. Felix died in full view of everyone, and there can be no doubt that it was an accident.’
I took a deep breath. ‘With respect, Excellence . . .’
‘What is it, Libertus? You find something in what I have said to disagree with?’
There was nothing for it now. I bowed my head. ‘Three things, Excellence. In the first place, there was more than one Celt present. I am a Celt myself, from the same part of the island. That is how I come to know the second thing. That man is not Egobarbus, nor ever was.’ I told him what I knew.
Marcus was dismissive. ‘My dear old friend, it is twenty years since you met the fellow. A man may change a great deal in that time.’
‘Indeed he may, Excellence, but there are some things he cannot alter. The Egobarbus that I knew was a taller man than I am, though I was a grown adult and he was still a boy. This fellow is the same height as me. He cannot have shrunk. And did you see his hands?’
‘There was nothing the matter with his hands.’
‘Exactly. But Egobarbus has a damaged little finger. I know, because I damaged it, with a whip.’
Marcus was staring at me now. ‘Then who . . .’
I shook my head. ‘As to that, Excellence, I have no more idea than you have.’
‘Then he must be found. It may have nothing to do with this evening’s accident, but the fellow cannot arrive here impersonating someone else.’
‘Yes, Excellence, he must be found, and with more urgency than you think. I told you there was a third matter. There is also the question of the dog.’
‘Ah, yes, I have been thinking of the dog. Too quiet, even for an old animal half asleep. And why was it in a cupboard?’ He gave me a triumphant smile. ‘I know what you are going to tell me. Gaius was boasting to me of the creature’s tricks. Someone had fed it on ale. The old beast loves it. The drink makes it playful and then puts it into a drunken sleep for hours. Somebody learned of this, and gave the dog ale so that he could make his escape. This Egobarbus, probably. Confess, that was what you were going to tell me.’
I moved closer so that nobody should overhear me. ‘No, Excellence,’ I murmured. ‘Worse than that. I’m very much afraid the dog was dead.’
Marcus looked sta
rtled. ‘You think he strangled it with its collar? Or perhaps it was that slave who dragged it away?’
I shook my head. ‘I looked, Excellence. There is no sign of damage to the neck – as there assuredly would be in that case. But there is evidence of vomit and foaming at the mouth. Now, it occurs to me that the animals were lapping up the food under the table. And in that case there has to be a possibility that whatever it was that killed the dog also killed Perennis Felix. Despite appearances, Excellence, I fear we may be looking at a murder.’
Marcus, unquestionably the most powerful man in Glevum, glanced around as guiltily as any schoolboy. ‘I think,’ he said carefully, ‘that this theory of yours may be better kept to ourselves. Even if you are right – and there is no evidence at all that you are – as Tommonius said about his own affairs, what is to be gained by making it public? We shall merely have Commodus baying for blood, and all of us will be under suspicion.’
Himself especially, I thought, since he had been sitting nearest to Felix and had occasion enough to detest and fear the man. And he had brought in the extra wine. But I said nothing beyond, ‘Indeed, Excellence, although it might be wise to prevent the servants eating the remnants from the high table. Another corpse might prove exceedingly embarrassing.’
He thought about that for a moment. ‘That might be difficult. The slaves will expect to be allowed the scraps. Anything else might attract speculation and gossip.’
‘Unless you ordered them to be burnt at the Vestal flame?’
He flushed. ‘Of course. A propitiation to the household gods. I was about to suggest it myself.’
I did not dignify that with a response. I merely said, ‘So Felix will have his public funeral and that will be the end of that?’
‘That is the safest option, do you not think?’
‘I am sure it is.’ I bowed. I wanted to go home. ‘So you will not be requiring my services further? Except in the matter of the commemorative pavement?’
He gazed at me as though Diana had touched my wits. ‘But of course I shall require your services. If there is any truth in your suspicions, naturally I wish to find the culprit. If you can prove to me who did it, of course we will bring a case against him. It is merely that, without clear proof of someone else’s guilt, suspicion will assuredly fall on me. Much better if people do not guess that there might ever have been a case at all. I want you to come here and consult about the pavement, and while you are about it you can ask a few questions in the household, find out who put that dog in the cupboard, and what happened to Egobarbus. And Zetso too. They cannot have got far tonight; the city gates will be closed. You can report to me here first thing in the morning.’
‘Excellence,’ I pleaded wearily, ‘it is already first thing in the morning. By the time I have walked home from here the bakers will be abroad in the streets.’
I must have sounded as weary as I felt. Marcus took pity on me, and sent me home in a litter.
Chapter Eight
In the morning I awoke to find the sun well risen in the sky, and the sounds of the day’s business issuing noisily from the shops and streets nearby. Junio (who had waited up anxiously for my return) had already risen and gone downstairs from where the delicious smell of hot oatcakes fresh from the street vendor, the intermittent sound of stone on chisel, and a murmur of urgent voices wafted up to me.
It seemed I had a customer.
I struggled up from my comfortable bed of rags and reeds, splashed a little water on my face and hands from the bowl which Junio had set for me, straightened my tunic, donned my belt and sandals and made my way down the rickety ladder to the back kitchen-cum-workroom of my humble shop.
The oatcakes were there, visibly cooling on a wooden platter beside the hearth, where a cheerful fire was already burning. I looked at them longingly, but Junio’s voice from the front shop beyond the flimsy partition drove any immediate thoughts of breakfast from my head.
‘I tell you he is sleeping, and must not be disturbed.’
Not a customer, then. Junio knew better than to turn away business. Nor a message from Marcus either – that would have brought Junio pounding up the stairs to fetch me, whatever the hour. I was puzzled. A man in my situation rarely receives social calls.
‘And I tell you I must speak with Libertus. There is some chance that he might vouch for me.’
I frowned. I recognised the voice. Those clipped Italian accents were unmistakable – my visitor was the sallow youth I had met the night before. And he wished me to ‘vouch’ for him. That sounded ominous.
I stepped around the partition, the sudden daylight almost dazzling my eyes. ‘Greetings, Octavius. You have found me, as you see. In what way did you hope that I could help you?’
The thin face looked hollower than ever, but the youth smiled and the work-roughened hands reached out to grasp mine urgently. ‘Libertus. Have you heard the news? Of course you have. You were there, you must have seen it. Perennis Felix is dead. Poisoned. The whole city is talking of it. I did not know what to do, and then I thought of you. I found out where you lived, and came to find you at once, before they came to arrest me. You can at least bear witness that when I left the banquet he was still alive.’
I disentangled myself from his grasp. So, attempts at hiding the possible poisoning had failed. Poor Marcus, he would be first in line for questioning. Some of the magistrates would enjoy that. A great man gains many enemies in the course of his duties. And of course, if my patron were questioned, I would certainly be next. He had spent the day with me. I closed my eyes momentarily.
When I opened them, Octavius was staring at me anxiously. ‘You had not heard?’
‘I had not heard that he was poisoned,’ I said, choosing my words carefully. ‘Who told you as much?’
‘A servant at the hiring stables this morning,’ the young man said hotly. ‘I called to see if . . . I called there early on private business, and was told that Perennis Felix was already dead. Something he ate at the feast. I knew what conclusions everyone would draw. And, of course, I had made myself conspicuous by talking that stupid old dodderer with the dogs into letting me attend the banquet.’
So he was there as Gaius’s guest. That explained one mystery at least. But at the moment I had other concerns. ‘And the stable-hand said poisoned? You are sure? It appeared to most of us that Felix had simply choked on a nut.’
‘Clutching his throat and vomiting, he said. He gave a lively description.’ His face cleared. ‘Although, when I come to consider it, he did not actually mention poison. I simply supposed . . .’ Octavius gave an embarrassed shrug. ‘He even called after me, but I did not stop to listen. I thought the authorities would already be looking for me. Zetso saw me at the banquet last night, and he knew—’ He stopped. ‘But of course, if Felix merely choked . . . Libertus, I am sorry to have troubled you. I have been foolish, I think.’
I glanced at Junio, who had given up all pretence of cutting the piece of marble he was holding, and was listening with interest. I caught his eye and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. I nodded, and he disappeared inside to clear a place in the workroom and set out a pair of folding stools. I smiled approvingly. Like me, Junio had found the young man’s words singularly intriguing.
I took my visitor gently by the elbow. ‘From what you say about your early start, Octavius, I imagine you have not breakfasted? I do not suppose you returned to your lodgings?’
‘It is of no consequence. I rarely eat in the morning. A beaker of water and a piece of fruit perhaps.’
‘Then you will stay and breakfast with me? I have more robust Celtic appetites, and there are some fresh oatcakes which are not yet entirely cold.’
He shook his head with a kind of frantic haste. ‘No, thank you, no. You are very kind, but there are things that I must do urgently.’
My grip on his elbow tightened. ‘Octavius,’ I said, ‘I am sure you want to speak to your accomplice, whoever it is,’ I had the satisfaction of seeing his face pale,
but I went on inexorably, ‘but first you will talk to me. It seems to me you have something to explain. First you appear at a banquet where it seems you have little business to be, and you disappear again with scarcely a word. Next you go skulking around the hiring stables at daybreak and rush away in a panic when you hear that Felix is dead. If I were a magistrate I would find this very suspicious. And then you lay a trail to my door by asking half of Glevum where I live. You owe me an explanation, at least.’
Octavius looked at his sandal-straps and shook his head.
‘Then,’ I said brightly, giving his elbow a warning squeeze, ‘perhaps I should send Junio for the aediles? No doubt they will be interested in your doings. Your early morning visit to the stables, for instance.’
Octavius pulled his arm away. ‘But there is nothing to explain. It seems that Felix was not poisoned after all. Besides, who would pay any attention to me? I am a humble tile-maker – not a powerful tyrant protected by imperial favour like Felix.’
I glanced at him sharply. An interesting choice of words, I thought. I said, slowly and firmly, ‘Octavius, I understand that you come from Rome. That it is a big city, and no doubt they do things differently there. But this is Glevum. Here, everyone of importance knows everybody else, and everything unusual is a wonder. Your arrival – as a visitor from Rome – will have been noted, and commented upon, by every pie-seller, amulet-maker and horse-dealer in the city. Just take a look around you.’
Octavius glanced nervously up and down the street, where at this very moment a dozen urchins were ogling us, while a fat peasant woman with a basket of turnips on her back was whispering to a man with a loaded donkey, openly nudging him and nodding in our direction.
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