Scandal Takes a Holiday mdf-16

by Lindsey Davis

  'A good night! A wonderful send-off for Aulus. Oof!' He puffed out his cheeks, sobering up quickly.

  'I should have brought Claudia.'

  'You never bring Claudia. You're very unfair to her.'

  'Ah well… Of course she could have come. She chose to stay with the little chap.' I knew why that was. It had nothing to do with feeding the baby or keeping his routine. Claudia had once been betrothed to Aulus. He had learned not to be rude about being dumped, but she found the situation awkward. It was possible she now thought that when she married Quintus, she had chosen the wrong brother. Sad to say, in her lowest moments, that pleasant, grave young woman probably thought she should not have married either of them.

  'How are things, Quintus?' I asked carefully.

  'Things are fine, Marcus.'

  'I'm glad to hear it.'

  'Things are just fine.' People never mean that. Quintus rallied from a brief fit of melancholia and told me his news. He had been visited by Posidonius. [I had myself told Posidonius he could contact us.] After he reported to the vigiles that Rhodope had eloped with her lover, he had felt dissatisfied and decided to seek further help from us.

  'The situation is depressing,' said my young partner, now in efficient professional mode. 'He knows there is little he can do. Theopompus has already demanded cash for a wedding, plus more money for the couple to set up house together.'

  'So the pressure is on 'Surely you don't want your little girl to be unhappy, Posidonius?' Appeals to his love, backed by unspoken threats. Theopompus claims to adore her, while making sure the father knows he could make her really miserable.'

  'Exactly, Marcus. Poor bastard. Posidonius is being begged for a trousseau and dinner service already, and knows future bills will mount. The vigiles had sparse consolation to offer him.'

  'Are we surprised?' I asked bitterly.

  'Anyway, the girl thinks her dreams have all come true but the father knows better. He won't simply take it, though. He intends coming to Ostia to search for Rhodope; he is bringing people he knows in Rome. A group at the Emporium are getting together.' Quintus paused, unsure how I would take this.

  'I think your father may join in.'

  'Heaven help us!'

  'Anyway, I told Posidonius where to find you.' Now Pa would know too.

  'I can stay if you want, Marcus, but I would rather go back and head up the Rome office.' He had a fancy way of putting it. Our Rome office was just my house, with whoever knocked on the door bringing their troubles.

  'Claudia would be happier,' Quintus confessed. I said, whatever made Claudia happy would make me happy. With one associate bunking off to Greece, I had to keep the other sweet. Otherwise I would go back to pounding the pavement night and day as a lone investigator. The senator had been right. I liked to enjoy life nowadays.

  As Aulus helped their mother into the carriage, which she achieved with less agility than normal, I muttered to Quintus, 'when your mother comes to Portus tomorrow, warn her to leave her jewels behind.' Julia Justa was always smart in a restrained way. She chose her tunics to tone or contrast aesthetically with her over-mantles; today she was in two shades of violet. Even for a journey and an informal alfresco fish supper, she wore a necklace formed from two rows of suspended gold spindles, large ear-rings with big central pearls and pearl drops, bracelets on both arms and various finger rings. If she used the public baths, her embroidered girdle would be a magnet for pilferers; likewise her beaded shoes.

  'You don't think my mother will fall prey to kidnap!' Quintus guffawed. 'They'll get more than they bargain for. They would end up paying us the ransom, pleading for us to take Mama back!'

  'The point is,' I suggested, 'she looks wealthy, and since your father eagerly throws off his purple-edged toga when he leaves Rome, nobody will know she is the wife of a senator. Don't scare her, but make her be sensible.' Decimus himself had now clambered into the vehicle after his lady, and was waving cheerfully through the small curtained window. Originally, theirs must have been a marriage of convenience. I knew Julia Justa had brought in money – though less money than the impoverished Camilli really needed. Nonetheless, they had made it a marriage of affection and stability.

  'She's safe if they do know her rank?' Quintus was moving to join them.

  'This gang is clever. They don't invite trouble. They choose merchants from overseas, to limit the support their victims can call on here in Italy. Then they scare them so badly they just want to flee back home. It works. Picking on outsiders, they have, up until now, avoided an outcry.'

  'Was Diocles going public on them?'

  'Maybe he just inadvertently gave that impression.' Quintus waited while Helena leaned into the carriage to kiss her parents.

  'So what's happened to Diocles, Marcus?'

  'Maybe some frank Cilician seafarer has explained that he would like Diocles to keep quiet.'

  'And carried him off?' Maybe, but I still had the feeling that Diocles had not gone far from Ostia.

  After we waved off our visitors and peace descended on the street, the others went on up. I stood alone for a few moments breathing in the night air. Helena and Albia would be indoors, washing the children and putting them to bed. I would be needed soon for my tucking-in duties. I stood in the darkness and felt aching sympathy for Posidonius, who had lost his only daughter to an adventurer.

  XXXIV

  Next morning we all trooped out to Portus with Aelianus and saw him board the Spes. The last time the Camillus brothers went abroad, they had come with us on a trip to Britain. Helena and I, always keen to travel, felt a shared pang now as we braced up to seeing one of her brothers venturing abroad without us.

  'Try and find a mystery for Marcus!' Helena quipped. Her mother shook her head, but her father sighed as if he would quite like to come too. Quintus looked on with special yearning, as he thought of his sibling loose among the wine, women and cultural riches of Greece.

  At least, I knew the first two were on his mind. If there is one certainty when you have been given a sailing time, it's that the boat will never go when you expect. If it is not sailing out of the harbour without you as you turn up on the quayside, it will sit there at anchor for several more hours.

  Or days, maybe. The Spes had a second mate whose duties included passenger management. That meant he ordered them to arrive early and stowed them at his leisure while nothing else was going on; at sea, his role was to hear their complaints and keep them calm in a storm. He inspected their baggage keenly when they first came abroad because in a bad storm, while the mariners struggled to control the ship's wild movements, it would be his task to decide what to chuck overboard to lighten it. There are rules, hated but fair, about how to divide any losses between owners if actual cargo is thrown off in an emergency – but casual passengers have few rights. I could see Aulus was particularly popular with the second mate.

  Aulus was a lad; his 'essential' luggage was extremely heavy. If a tempest should blow up, he was on the list to surrender all his treasures first. We put Aulus on the ship. Then we had to wait so long that he became restless and came off again. He and I sauntered around the port. He wanted to make his parents worry that he would miss the boat, while I had the excuse of trying to find drinks for the children.

  Yes, we had brought the children. Julia and Favonia both loved a chance to run very fast towards the edge of a wharf above a crowded harbour full of deep water. Nux had actually been in the harbour. Water called to Nux like Circe at her most sirenous.

  Before I could stop her, Nux had leapt off the wall and paddled around crazily until she realised there was no way out. At that point, I thought I might have to jump in myself to save her; the children were shrieking at the thought of losing their doggie and even Helena was agitated by the imminent drowning. Since I could not swim, it was a relief when a sailor fished Nux into his bumboat and returned the bedraggled lump to us – in return for the customary bribe, or price of a drink as it is ridiculously called. No drink ever cost th
at much.

  'Now I'm all wet from the damned dog. That bumboat swine lured her in on purpose… We may have to abandon you, Aulus.'

  'I never asked anyone to come,' grumbled Aulus. That was true, but of course he was touchy at the thought that we might dump him. Now he felt lonely, and he had not even left the country.

  'Oh Julia Justa will make us stay. Your mother still loves you.'

  'Well, thanks, Falco.' I was surprised to find that the customs desk on the arrivals wharf was manned by Gaius Baebius.

  'What happened to permanent sick leave after your beating?' The clerks he supervised all stared curiously. Gaius looked shifty.

  'I'm still in agony, Marcus. Some days I can hardly move for the pain…'

  'Skip it, Gaius.'

  'You have no idea what my suffering is like…'

  I could imagine the diatribe if he got started. I said if Gaius really wanted to make a complaint, he could find Cratidas at the Aquarius, though I warned him not to go alone. Hearing my short sharp tale of knives and uplifted benches, Gaius thought he might instead hire a lawyer and sue for damages. A good move, I thought. It would be very neat if a vicious ransom gang was broken up because their leading man had to flee legal action from a malingering civil servant.

  'And how is darling Junia?'

  'Back home in Rome. I was not aware you were so fond of her, Marcus.' Nor was I. I had slipped up by even mentioning her.

  On the quay nothing much was happening. The first officer sauntered aboard. We took that for a good sign. The first mate arrived, bringing some sailors. They were typical mariners.

  I saw Julia Justa stiffen as she noted their farmyard accents, their missing eyes and their limps, their rough tunics and bare feet. She wanted her boy to be safe in the hands of elegant master mariners with boots, cloaks and Phrygian caps. Nothing less than Jason and all his Argonauts would be good enough to row Aelianus. We soothed her. Julia Justa knew we were being insincere.

  The captain, Antemon, arrived. He turned up at the quay with the ship's guard, carefully escorting his owners, Banno and Aline. The ransomed wife scuttled aboard, still ashen-faced. The husband remained at the end of the gangplank and stared back at the port for a moment, looking resentful. I went up to him.

  'I'm sorry your trip ended so badly. Now you are safely leaving, is there anything you will tell me about what happened to your wife?' Above us on deck, Antemon was watching warily. More furious than frightened now, this time Banno told the story. Most matched what other witnesses had said. Aline had been seized here at Portus, almost as soon as they landed. Banno was soon handed a letter which arranged a meeting in a bar. He had to go alone, and ask for the Illyrian.

  'Can you describe him?' Banno looked vague. 'Anything you remember about his height, his build, his colouring? Did he have hair or was he bald? Teeth? Ears? Scars? Clothing? What did he wear?'

  I got nothing. Either the witness was short-sighted, or too cowed. He did tell me one thing. The location of the bar. It was on the river frontage at Ostia, quite near to the Aquarius. He had had to take the ransom money to the bar right next door.

  'Does Aline remember anything?' She had been sure she was drugged, and was kept lying on a bed in a small room where she thought there was a woman, with children.

  'Or might it have been a single boy, Banno?' Banno could not answer that. He was unwilling to ask the still traumatised Aline, and there was no time anyway.

  He left me abruptly, almost in mid-sentence. The Spes was finally sailing. We all stood on the quayside with that mournful feeling that afflicts people as they watch somebody else leave the country. We saw the gangplank pulled in and the mooring ropes cast off. Nux barked loudly. The ship was manoeuvred by tugboats and its own oars, gradually prised out from its tight-packed berth, then towed slowly into the centre of the great harbour. Sailors worked frantically to adjust the square sail. The vessel turned laboriously to face in the right direction. At the rail, Aelianus, who was wearing a dark red tunic, soon became a blurred dot; we had all long stopped waving to him.

  We stayed until the Spes started to move independently. The tugs with their heavy towing masts fell back from her. She slipped free and made her way towards the harbour exit, sailing smoothly out through the passage on the south side of the lighthouse.

  'He's gone!' Aulus had his good points. Even I would miss him.

  XXXV

  The senator had told his carriage driver to wait at our apartment. If the Camilli drove back to Rome straight away, they would hit the wheeled vehicle ban and be stopped at the city gate, so we delayed their journey by having a very late lunch. Helena went to fetch Albia, who had chosen not to come with us to Portus. She was not a slave; she had the right to free time, and apparently Aulus was no great draw for her. Helena herself enjoyed time alone, so had always allowed the young girl moments with her own thoughts.

  I settled everyone else in one of the courtyards at the Aquarius. Nowhere else was so convenient and I would not be deterred by an anti-social Cilician. The place was big enough to cope with a large influx, and had a pleasant, respectable atmosphere. If you overlooked the fact that armed pirates accumulated there sometimes, it made an ideal family restaurant. Anyway, there was no sign of Cratidas.

  We had a good, if slightly subdued meal, which with rather slow service took most of the afternoon. However much we reassured ourselves that Aulus was doing the right thing, and that his ship was sound and well managed, a sea voyage is always dangerous. It would be several weeks before he landed and could send a letter to confirm his safe arrival, then weeks more before the letter found its way to Rome. If Aulus remembered to write. His mother said he had a bad record in that sphere.

  When we finished, the senator and I wrangled over the bill, but in the end he paid it. I had things to do, but it was only polite to return to the apartment for farewells.

  'Don't worry, Mama darling…' Helena was feeling mischievous. 'The Daily Gazette says that rumours of pirates operating again are untrue…' As Julia Justa stared in horror, I quickly signalled the driver to start off. After we had watched the carriage disappear, a sense of anticlimax downed us.

  While the children scampered off, looking for toys they had abandoned the night before, Helena, Albia and I all walked back slowly into the courtyard. It seemed forlorn after our great family banquet. Helena wiped away a tear. I hugged her.

  'Aulus will be all right.'

  'Of course.' She became more brisk. 'Now we are alone, Albia and I have something to show you. While she was here this morning, we had a visitor.'

  'Entertaining a follower?' I teased Albia. She looked hot.

  'Don't,' warned Helena.

  'It was just as well that I came home to fetch her; Albia found him a handful.' Now I was a furious head of household.

  'I'll sort him! Who was the bastard?'

  'A slave called Titus.' Titus? That chirpy extrovert who worked for the landlady at the Marine Gate rental, the slave who cleaned Diocles' room. I could imagine how the pushy tyke would be too flirtatious with Albia if he found her alone. He would take her for a slave or freedwoman, for one thing. I looked across at Albia, who was kicking her heels. Helena had interrupted the unwanted advances; there was no harm done.

  'He brought you some things, Marcus Didius.' Albia had already learned that I needed efficient reports. 'First, his excuse was that there were two good tunics Diocles had left at the laundry. These have come to light unexpectedly, so Titus says.'

  'Wrong size for him!' I grinned.

  'I said this was not enough to earn him a tip.'

  'Excellent. The last girl I kept in the office to take messages was a soft touch.'

  'Lies,' murmured Helena, to whom I had been referring. 'Tell him the rest, Albia.'

  'Notebooks.'

  'Notebooks! I thought we had those, mostly empty.'

  'These new ones are written in. There are quite a lot. I believe Titus had kept them, hoping they might be valuable. Now he is frightened he wil
l get into trouble!' Albia spat. It was a habit we had yet to cure. 'So he will. Sooner or later, and I think sooner…' Prophesying doom for men gave Albia much satisfaction. 'Titus said – or he pretended – he had been asked to look after these tablets by your scribe. To put them in a safe place, and not tell anybody. That is why he kept them secret from you. But some men came to the house asking about them yesterday, and Titus is now very scared.'

  'Who scared him?'

  'He knew no names.'

  'I had a quick look at the tablets,' said Helena. I imagined her speed-reading before she rushed back to the Aquarius for lunch. 'Two different authors, I would say. Some look like old diaries, don't get excited; it's not love affairs of the famous. They are ship's logs, or similar.'

  'Boring! I can do without a load of notes saying wind nor' by nor nor' west, sea choppy; had beans for supper, farted hilariously.'' Helena had been teaching Albia to read on quiet evenings.

  Albia must have scanned the tablets too and now piped up, 'Marcus Didius, it is more like Termessos: sold five from the Constantia; good price for the wine… Off Samos, met the Iris. Brisk but a result.''

  'Who wrote these logs?'

  'It does not say. There are a lot of… meetings.'' Albia was a bright girl. She knew we had been talking about pirates. 'Most are brisk and end with a list of good prices.'

  'Sold five what?' I met Helena's eyes. Like me, she suspected the worst.

  'The lists of sales are endless,' Albia told me unhappily. 'Are they people, these numbers? These fives and tens and threes and even twenties? Are they people, being sold into slavery?'

  'The tablets are old and battered,' Helena tried to reassure her. 'I think we'll find these events happened many years ago.'

  Realistically, Albia knew that not all stricken people could be saved from their misfortunes as she had been. Eventually she said in a low voice, 'Wrapped in one of the clean tunics was a sword, Marcus Didius.'