Rosemary Rowe - The Fateful Day

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, they 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.

I don’t care much for wine shops, and this one less than most. The floor was filthy and the wine vats, set into the counter, were rimed with sediment. One or two customers perched on wooden seats looked up blearily as we came in, but to my dismay there was no sign of anyone I recognised. But it was too late to escape. The owner, a toothless ancient with an aimless grim, came lurching over to accost us instantly.

‘Can I assist you, gentlemen?’

‘I was looking for a customer,’ Alfredus rescued me. ‘I missed him earlier. I believe he came in here. This citizen has seen him, and can describe him properly.’

‘Fellow in a patrician toga, with an enormous slave,’ I supplied, without much hope.

The owner drooped one rheumy eye into a wink. ‘Busy at the moment upstairs, citizen. Which one were you after? The young one or the older gentleman?’

‘They’re both here?’ I exclaimed. ‘I was not expecting that.’

‘Been here all the afternoon — young one first and then the other one. Hope they’re going to pay the poor girls properly!’

I turned to Alfredus and Vesperion. ‘You realise what this means? I knew that Cacus had been looking out of your warehouse window-space, but I didn’t realise what he was looking for. Of course, they were waiting for the young one to get back — and no doubt he’s the one that Junio saw with Cacus on the dock. That explains one mystery. I was sure that Commemoratus was the one who called at our workshop when Junio was there, but he insisted that he didn’t recognise the man. Of course he didn’t — it was the younger brother he glimpsed the second time.’

The taverna owner paid no attention to my words. ‘Now, gentlemen, what can I offer you? It’s been quite a day for us. We don’t have a lot of patrician visitors, but suddenly today we’ve had a run of them. Watered wine, or ale, or our own special brew …?’ He waved a hand at his disgusting wares.

Alfredus turned to me. ‘I think that if the other men have gone upstairs, we ought to go ourselves. We don’t want them realising that we’re here, and dropping out of windows while we’re loitering downstairs.’

‘Upstairs, gentlemen?’ The owner gave us a delighted leer. ‘I’m not sure if there’s space. Most of the rooms and girls are occupied. There’s only Livia …’ He put his fingers to his lips and gave a piercing whistle. There was a flurry on the staircase and Livia appeared — the plump and aging prostitute I’d noticed earlier. She’d taken off the toga and was wearing a stained tunic which did not enhance her charms. ‘You’ve got a vacant cubicle?’ he barked.

She was chewing on a stringy chicken bone, but she removed it from her mouth sufficiently to say, ‘Only the small one this end left.’

‘That will do nicely. We two will go upstairs and we’ll leave the slaves down here to guard the door,’ I told the astonished owner of the shop.

‘Here!’ he said loudly. ‘Two of you at once? There’s extra charge for that.’

‘It’s the room we’re after, not your mangy girls,’ I said. ‘We’ll go up there now. If there’s any problem, call the watch at once.’

‘Don’ need the watch,’ Livia said indistinctly, through a lump of chicken skin. She looked animated suddenly. ‘I got my soldier up there, though he’s half asleep. What’s this all about?’