The Fateful Day

by Rosemary Rowe

  I was still debating what to do when I heard a distant tuba sound. ‘Great Mars,’ I said. ‘They’ll be reading the proclamation in the forum very soon. I’ll have to do some—’

  ‘Father?’ I was interrupted by a cheerful cry and looked up to see my son hurrying towards me down the main street of the town. ‘What are you doing here?’ he said, as he came up to us. He sounded out of breath. ‘I thought you’d be halfway to the roundhouse by this time. I know the cleansing rituals did not take very long – especially after you two citizens had left – but I didn’t expect to catch you up so easily.’

  ‘I had a brush with that centurion again,’ I said. ‘He wouldn’t let me through. But there have been developments. The army’s found a dozen severed heads. They supposed it was rebels, but I’m certain that it’s not.’

  Junio thought about it. ‘Marcus’s slaves? Of course!’ He frowned. ‘But why on earth …?’

  ‘It took me a moment to work that out myself,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow we’ll get Georgicus to collect the heads, and see. But I’m certain that we’ll find that one of them’s the missing gatekeeper.’

  He stared at me. ‘I’d forgotten about him. But …?’

  ‘He was among the bodies all the time – though I didn’t realise it,’ I said. ‘Funnily enough, it was the wise woman who gave me the idea. “It is whatever you expect to see” – that was the talisman.’

  ‘I didn’t see either gatekeeper.’ Minimus had been listening to all this with interest.

  Junio exchanged a glance with me. ‘That’s because we didn’t let you look,’ he said, and then to me, ‘the front gatekeeper was hanging in his cell. Why was he killed by such a different method, do you think?’

  ‘I have a theory about that,’ I said. ‘But there are other things I need to check on first. And fairly urgently – supposing that it’s not too late by now. Would you be willing to take Arlina home, and tell your mother about Maximus for me? I would be happy leaving that with you and I’ll try to be home myself as soon as possible, though if it gets too dark, I’ll have to stay in Glevum.’

  Junio pressed my arm. ‘Of course I will – if you’re sure there’s nothing else that I can do in town.’

  ‘Did you manage to get round to the gates and ask if they’d seen Cacus and his master leaving?’ I enquired.

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t need to ask. I saw him for myself when I was on my way to ask them at the Isca gate. It was difficult to hurry – everyone was pushing to the forum by that time – so I tried to take the shortcut by the docks. And there was Cacus, with his back to me, going into that taverna – you know the one I mean? One of the girls who works there sidled up to me, wanting to know if I was thirsty – though that wasn’t what she meant. I said I wouldn’t enter the premises tonight for all the world, because I’d just seen a giant walking in and she laughed and said, “His master’s in there, too,” so I gave her a quadrans and came to tell you. So there’s your answer, Father. Commemoratus hasn’t gone to Isca after all.’

  ‘The docks, you say? So they intend to leave by water after all – in that empty little boat, no doubt. The captain said he’d lost a fare that he expected yesterday. I’m sure that was Commemoratus and his party only – because I happened to pass him on the road and thereby forced him to produce his alibi – they didn’t leave as quickly as they’d intended to. Did Cacus see you?’

  Junio shook his head. ‘I don’t think so, Father – and certainly Commemoratus can’t have done.’

  Alfredus Allius touched my tunic sleeve. ‘Who’s this Commemoratus, citizen? I’ve not heard of him. And what is this about? Is this connected with those murders we’ve been hearing of? If something’s happening at the docks, perhaps I ought to know.’

  ‘But surely you know Commemoratus, councillor?’ Junio was surprised. ‘He was at your warehouse just this afternoon, arranging to buy wine from you, I understand. Or perhaps you didn’t meet him – Vesperion spoke to him.’ He looked at the steward, who was standing at a respectful distance by the arch, still helping Minimus to hold the mule. ‘Or so my father says.’

  Vesperion saw that he was needed and shuffled up to us.

  ‘I hear we had an enquiry for wine this afternoon,’ his master said, severely. ‘You didn’t mention it.’

  The steward looked contrite. ‘I didn’t want to bother you with time-wasters, master, when you were so concerned about this citizen’s dead slave,’ he said. ‘But it’s true there was a visitor – though nothing came of it. Wealthy fellow with a fancy cloak. I thought we’d get a handsome contract out of him, but he wasn’t really interested in buying wine at all. He was very rude, saying one minute that he wouldn’t do business with an underling, and then complaining when I wasn’t at his beck and call. Then his servant came to get him and he went away without a word except to say he didn’t like our wine, though we’d given him some of the best Rhenish we had in. I don’t imagine he will call again – though I suppose he may come back and talk to you.’

  ‘Then that must be the man you’re looking for,’ Alfredus said to me. ‘And he’s called Commemoratus, did you say? Funny sort of cognomen – I wonder where he’s from.’

  Vesperion frowned. ‘That’s not the name he gave me!’ he exclaimed. ‘I can’t recall exactly. I didn’t really bother in the end, when he obviously wasn’t a proper customer, but I’m sure it wasn’t that. It’s some name I think I’ve vaguely heard before … Honorius Flavius … something?’

  ‘Egidius?’ I prompted.

  The steward stared at me – and so did Junio. Then Vesperion spoke. ‘Of course it was,’ he murmured, sheepishly. ‘Same name as the villa that Scipio man has bought – perhaps this chap’s distantly related to the family. I should have noticed that. He rattled off his full three names, of course, and a couple of nicknames for good measure, too – though Commemoratus wasn’t one of them. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t make the connection at the time. I’m sorry, master, if I should have taken better note.’

  Alfredus was fingering his amulets again, but it was Junio who spoke. ‘Commemoratus is Egidius?’ he said. ‘That isn’t possible. The man’s in lifetime exile, forbidden fire and water anywhere within the Roman Empire and liable to death if he is found within its bounds. He would not dare to come here and announce himself by name.’

  ‘Unless he has a pardon, as I believe he has. In fact I heard his servant saying so. He produced that scroll that I was talking of, and said “your pardon, master”. I thought it was an apology for interrupting us, but I now believe he meant exactly what he said. That was the pardon, under Imperial seal. The commandant told me that Pertinax had issued lots of them, even some that were not really justified.’

  Junio was still looking unconvinced. ‘But why would Egidius tell you he was called something else? If he’d been pardoned, surely, he has nothing more to fear?’

  ‘He wanted to avoid me knowing who he was – though he’d already told Vesperion by that time, it seems. In fact, I think he came on purpose to identify himself. He wanted a witness who could prove that he was there. And then I came and spoiled all his plans. I noticed when I asked him for his name, he sent the steward out before he answered me. He gave me the nickname he’d adopted for himself: “the remembered one”. It was a message to Marcus, which he knew I would pass on. In fact, he made a specific point of asking me to do so.’

  Junio shook his head despairingly. ‘But why? Even if everything you say is true, there can’t be a connection with the murders and the theft. You said yourself that he had alibis. Egidius was not in Glevum till sunset yesterday. He had no opportunity to arrange the carts and guards, and didn’t have the knowledge to make that inventory – and there are lots of witnesses to every part of that. And he was in the warehouse at the docks with you when Maximus was killed. He can’t have been responsible for any of the crimes.’

  ‘I know,’ I assented. ‘It’s clever, isn’t it? The ultimate vengeance on a magistrate. The man who hated Marcus for what
he’d done to him – the ruin of his family and the loss of all he had, and years of miserable exile on an island in the sea – has witnesses to prove that he was somewhere else throughout. As of course, he genuinely was.’

  ‘So it was not Egidius who did it?’

  ‘Not that Egidius,’ I said. ‘He was an obvious suspect – that’s why he took such pains to make sure that his alibis were unshakeable. It was the other Egidius, of course. The younger brother that Marcus was employing as a scribe.’

  ‘But we saw the body of the scribe …’ Junio began, then tailed off in dismay. ‘You mean it wasn’t him at all?’

  ‘He changed clothes with the dead back-gatekeeper, and I think he simply got into his brother’s travelling coach and was driving off when I encountered them – leaving a headless body which seemed to be the scribe. It was clever, No one would look for the amanuensis after that, and once in town, he put a toga on. A simple but effective method of disguise, especially with lots of strangers in Glevum for the will.’

  ‘But wasn’t that a risk? Suppose that someone recognised his face?’ Alfredus Allius asked.

  I shook my head. ‘That brother sold himself when he was very young – no one was likely to recognise him now. I was the only person likely to connect him with the house. I’d briefly glimpsed him there when he was copying the text. That’s why they wanted to be rid of me.’

  ‘What about Marcus’s land-slaves? They would have seen him while he was working there.’

  ‘They never leave the property, except Georgicus perhaps, and even he would not have known the amanuensis well. Besides, they thought that he was dead. If they were looking for anyone, it would be the gatekeeper! It isn’t easy to persuade a witness that someone isn’t dead when they are convinced they’ve seen the corpse. And I think that is why the other household slaves were massacred as well. One body without a head does not attract attention where there are a dozen others in the pile. But I’m sure we’ll find the brothers are together now. So, if we’ve finished talking, it is time for you to take Maximus back home and I’ll go and see if I can find our suspects before the gates are shut.’

  But even as I spoke there was a clamour from the town.

  TWENTY-SIX

  As Junio turned to leave us, Alfredus tugged my sleeve again. ‘Citizen,’ he said, ‘do you hear what I can hear? There’s disturbance in the town. If you wish to catch these people you must go at once – and your son must have a proper cart to take the servant in so you can have the mule to ride home afterwards. Don’t shake your head like that. I have an interest in solving this affair as well.’ His flat tone made the statement a more surprising one. ‘I’ve agreed today to underwrite a loan to Scipio for the purchase of the household items that I told you of. You know the law: “the buyer must beware”. If, for some reason, the purchase of the Egidius house was not what it appears, he stands to lose a lot of money – some of which is mine. If I had not helped you with the transport of your slave, I could only blame my ill-luck on myself for not obeying what the wise-woman advised. Accept my offer and let me do this to propitiate the Fates.’

  Put like that, I could not well refuse. ‘In that case, thank you councillor,’ I said.

  ‘Vesperion!’ Alfredus Allius was decisive now. ‘Go to the hiring stables over there and arrange a cart. Have them bring it to the gateway here. The fastest one they’ve got. And a driver with it, as soon as possible. Tell them I will pay them twice the normal rate – double if they get it here before the tuba sounds again. Tell them to send help to load the bier onto the cart, and for good measure, they can take care of the mule until its owner comes to call for it.’

  Vesperion looked startled, ‘But the stable-owner—’

  ‘Will do as he is asked for a curial magistrate,’ Alfredus told him, flatly. ‘And he will not try to cheat by asking an unreasonable sum. I can rely on my amulets for that.’ He touched them as he spoke.

  I only wished I had his confidence, though, truth to tell, my own had sparked a useful train of thought. ‘Councillor, I can’t express my thanks for what you’ve done. I won’t forget it – but now I’ll have to go. You can still hear the noises from the town. If this goes on, they’ll put the soldiers in the street, and I won’t be able to find the men that I am looking for.’ I turned to Minimus. ‘You’d better come with me. I know you’d rather ride with Maximus, but I may have need of you.’

  Minimus abandoned the mule to Junio and came trotting obediently to my side, then calling a farewell to Villosus – who was at his post again – I began to hurry back towards the city and the docks.

  ‘Don’t go without me, citizen!’ I turned to find Alfredus Allius hastening after me, rearranging his sombre toga into neater folds. ‘Vesperion will catch us – he knows where we’re going. He would be returning to the warehouse anyway.’ He fell into step beside me as he spoke.

  ‘You will accompany me?’

  Alfredus looked surprised. ‘Naturally, I’ll come with you, citizen. You may need witnesses and as a councillor I can call out the town watch if they’re required. Anyway, as I say, I have an interest. And I am intrigued by what you say. I’d heard that you were clever, but I never dreamed of this. What made you so certain that the caller was Egidius?’

  I made a rueful face. ‘I didn’t work it out until I’d heard about the heads – but looking back there were a lot of things which I should have noticed at the time. For one thing, there was the colour of his skin. I noticed it was reddened, but I did not think of sunshine as a cause for this. But if he was exiled on an island in the Inland Roman Sea, of course that would explain it perfectly. And he as good as told me that he had. He said he’d bought his servant as a boy “in one of the poorest islands of our sea”. I thought he meant the waters round Britannia, but I should have realised. Mare Nostra – our sea – is what the Romans call it, and that’s where Commodus always sent his exiles. No wonder Cacus has such golden skin.’

  Alfredus nodded, not looking much impressed. ‘This is the best way to the docks from here.’ He led the way around the corner to the street which offered the most salubrious route down to the river quay. It was virtually deserted, the shops were closed and shuttered, entry doors were shut, and even the tavernas had no lamps alight inside. Our footsteps on the cobbles seemed unnaturally loud. It was positively eerie, the more so since – from the direction of the forum not very far away – there was now the muted but unmistakable roar of angry crowds. I glanced at Alfredus Allius but he seemed unconcerned.

  ‘So it was Egidius himself who sold the villa, after all? I suppose it would have been restored to him when he was pardoned, since it had not been sold before.’ I nodded ‘And he shrewdly turned it into gold and silver straight away. I saw the bracelets on his arm.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he cared to live in the old house himself. But it’s a legal sale.’ He sounded much relieved.

  ‘He wouldn’t have the money to repair it anyway,’ I said. ‘He only gets the part of his fortune which remains, and there was not much of that. It was all forfeited to the Emperor. That’s why one brother sold himself to slavery. And, of course, they blamed Marcus, who found against them in the courts.’ I shook my head. ‘I can’t imagine why I didn’t wonder more about the gatekeeper who wasn’t there. But now I understand. They dressed him in the distinctive tunic the amanuensis wore – and you see what you expect to see, as your wise-woman said.’

  The mention of the wise-woman caught his interest. ‘And the fact that the amanuensis had access to the house …?’

  ‘Of course, it made it easy for him to make the list. And he had constant access to Marcus’s writing desk. No doubt he stole the seal-ring – or had a copy made – and he, of all people, could construct the messages purporting to instruct the staff to load the goods. And I’m sure we’ll find he took the message to the land-slaves too – telling them to construct that useless woodpile and keeping them busy a long way from the house. Another forged letter which he could produce. Of course, th
ey would believe that it was genuine.’

  ‘And you think he killed the slaves?’

  ‘Not personally, perhaps. He’d hired the thugs and carters – they may have done the job. It would not even be a very serious crime, if they thought they were working for the owner of the place. No doubt the carters thought the house was his – they don’t ask questions, provided they get paid, and some of Marcus’s treasure would have seen to that. He had a space under the pavement in his office-room, where he kept a money-box, and there was nothing in it when I was there today.’

  We had reached the corner of the docks by now, and were about to turn onto the quay when the clatter of following footsteps stopped me in my tracks. In the unnatural silence of the empty streets the sound was ominous. I had not forgotten that my quarry was a murderer, and I pulled Minimus into the shadows of a portico with me.

  Alfredus had more courage – or less imagination. He simply turned to face the follower. ‘Vesperion!’ I heard him cry. ‘You almost frightened us. Did you manage the business with the cart?’

  The poor old steward was completely out of breath, but he managed to convey that the arrangements had been made, the mule was in a stall, and Maximus was safely on his way. He mentioned a sum which took my breath away.

  Alfredus merely nodded. ‘I will see that it is done.’ He turned to me. ‘One more thing, citizen. What happened to the treasure and the furniture the brothers stole?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that. There’s no sign of it in Glevum, so it didn’t come this way. I fear that you may discover you’ve paid for it,’ I said. ‘I think you’ll find it is the furniture that Scipio thinks he’s bought – the things that were alleged to have been stored elsewhere – which I suppose, in a peculiar way, is true. I’m almost sure you’ll find an elaborate travelling carriage in the stables too. They must have put it somewhere, and that’s the likely place. And of course Egidius senior wanted me to think that he was going to drive away in it, though he didn’t actually mention carriages. I think he takes a strange delight in saying things which are nothing but the truth – but which give the wrong impression to the listener. Look, here’s the tavern – you can judge that for yourself.’ And without waiting for an answer I led the way inside.