Lindsey Davis - Two for Lions

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"Two for the Lions," by Lindsey Davis, takes place in A.D. 73. Lindsey Davis' sleuth – informer Marcus Didius Falco – admits he needs a partner and so teams up (to work on a census project) with Anacrites, a man he loathes because of his previous employment as imperial spy. Falco ultimately discovers that working for the Roman Emperor Vespasian means neither a reliable salary nor a secure job, but first Falco and his partner, paid to engage in delinquent tax collection, wind up in Africa solving gladiatorial school murder mysteries.

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Iddibal raised his eyebrows. "How do you know that?"

"Never mind. The borrowers had been told they were getting Draco, the wild lion, but Leonidas was put in Draco's cage instead. So it all went wrong, and he ended up dead. Did you look out later when the corpse was being returned?"

"No. I heard them at it, but that was hours afterwards and I was in bed. In fact they woke me up. Saturninus' men were hopeless; they made far too much noise. If we hadn't already known what was going on, the alarm would have been raised. Next day, when we knew the lion was dead and they had been panicking, we could understand their clumsiness. At the time we all grinned to ourselves at how inept they were, then we rolled over and went back to sleep."

"I don't suppose Saturninus and his people got much rest," I said.

"Calliopus thought Saturninus had killed Leonidas deliberately. Did he?" asked Iddibal.

"Almost certainly not-though I don't suppose he cared when it happened. His main concern was how it looked for him if news got out that he had arranged a private show. It had to be hushed up, especially in view of an ex-praetor being hurt. Pomponius was very badly mauled; in fact, he's now dead."

"So are you investigating this officially?" Iddibal asked, seeming worried. He must realize an ex-praetor's death would not go overlooked.

"People close to the ex-praetor have appealed to the Emperor. They want compensation. Whoever is held responsible could face a hefty financial penalty." That made Iddibal wince. "Why did Calliopus keep blaming you afterwards?"

He shrugged. "It was a ploy."

"How?"

"Partly to make it look like internal business, when you kept poking about."

"Try another excuse-make it a better one."

"Also, to explain to the others why he let my aunt buy me out."

"So why did he allow that?"

Iddibal looked annoyed. Either he was an extremely good actor, or it was for real. "She paid a huge amount. Why else?"

I signaled a waiter who brought us more wine. Iddibal condescended to drink his first beaker, obviously feeling he needed it. When the waiter had gone back inside I asked quietly, "Why don't you just tell me the truth? That Calliopus wanted to escalate the war with Saturninus, so he asked you to kill Rumex?"

"Yes, he did ask." I was astonished that Iddibal admitted it.

"And?"

"I refused to do it. I'm not mad." I was inclined to believe him. Had he accepted the job and carried out the gladiator's murder, Iddibal would not have told me he was ever approached.

"Someone did it."

"Not me."

"You will have to prove that, Iddibal."

"How can I? I knew nothing about Rumex being dead until you told me just now. You say it was the night before I left Rome? I was in the barracks all evening-until my aunt came with my manumission; then I went straight to Ostia with her. Fast," he explained insistently, "in case there was any comeback from Calliopus. Until Aunt Myrrha came, I was doing normal things, casual things. Other people will have seen me there, but they work for Calliopus. If you start stirring and he learns I was working for Papa, he'll be furious; then none of his staff will give me an alibi."

Panic had gripped him, but being intelligent, he at once started to work out his defense. "Can you prove it was me? Of course not. Nobody can have seen me, since I was not the killer. Can there be any other evidence? What weapon was used?"

"A small knife."

"A hunting knife?"

"I would say not actually."

"You don't have it?"

"By the time I saw the corpse, the knife was missing." It was possible Saturninus had removed it, though there was no obvious reason why he should. Anacrites and I had asked him; Saturninus had told us the weapon had never been found. We saw no reason to disbelieve him. "The general view is that the killer took the knife away with him."

"Any other evidence?" Iddibal was cheering up.

"No."

"So I'm in the clear."

"No. You are a suspect. You were working incognito, which you admit was in order to cause trouble. You left Rome hastily straight after the murder. You have just told me Calliopus did ask you to kill Rumex. This is certainly enough for me to hand you to an enquiring magistrate."

He took a deep breath. "It looks bad." I liked his honesty. "Are you arresting me?"

"Not yet."

"I want to talk to my father."

"He is expected, I'm told. What's he coming for?"

"A meeting."

"With whom?"

"Saturninus, primarily."

"What about?"

"They do talk."

"Regularly?"

"Not often."

"Saturninus is pretty gregarious?"

"He likes to have a lot of dealings with a lot of men."

"He can live on good terms with his rivals?"

"He can live with anyone."

"Unlike Calliopus?"

"No. That one prefers to go into a corner and brood."

"He'll be brooding rather heavily if he finds out who you are!"

"He's not supposed to find out."

"If you had known Calliopus would be coming-"

"I wouldn't be here."

"So what now?"

"When my father's ship arrives, I shall skip aboard it and lie low until we leave."

"Back to Sabratha?"

"That's where we live."

"Don't be smart with me. How much did your aunt pay for your release from slavery?"

"I don't know the amount. She told me it was a high price. I didn't nag her for the details; I felt responsible."

"Why? Was going undercover your idea?"

"No. We were all in on it. The plan had been for me to do a moonlit flit, but in the end I wanted to be bought out properly. I cannot be a runaway; it would make me a hostage for the rest of my life."

"Why did Calliopus pick you as a person to ask to kill Rumex?"

"A bribe. My aunt had already been to see him, and he knew I wanted to leave. If I killed Rumex, he said I could have my release in return." Iddibal looked embarrassed. "I have to admit, even my aunt thought I should do it. Obviously it would have saved her a great deal of money."

"Assuming you were not caught! When I was auditing Calliopus, I saw you and Myrrha arguing one night. Was that about killing Rumex?"

"Yes."

"So she asked you to do what Calliopus wanted, and according to you, you refused."

Iddibal wanted to protest, but he recognized I was goading him. Hunting was a game he knew. "Yes, I refused," he reiterated quietly, keeping his cool.

"Nice Aunt Myrrha then agreed after all to find the money, and she found so much that Calliopus released you on the spot. Has this situation caused you any difficulties with your family since you came home?"

"No. My aunt and father have been very good about it. We are a close and happy family." Iddibal stared at the ground, suddenly subdued. "I wish I had never got into all this."

"It must have seemed like a brilliant adventure."

"True."

"You don't realize how complicated and dark that sort of adventure will become."

"True again."

I quite liked him. I didn't know whether I could believe him, but he was not sly, nor did he feign outrage when I asked him fair questions. And he had not tried to run away.

Of course running away was not Iddibal's style. We had established that he preferred to be bought out. No doubt if I ever found any grounds to take him before a magistrate, the close happy family would rally round again and buy him out of that too. I had the inexorable feeling that I was wasting my time even trying to progress against these folks.

I told Iddibal I was staying with the special envoy who was surveying land. That had a nice official ring. I gave the young man a long, hard look, then issued the usual wonderful warning about not leaving town without telling me first.

He was young enough to assure me earnestly that, of course, he would do no such thing. He was naive enough to look as if he really meant what he said.

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