Rosemary Rowe - The Ghosts of Glevum

Another sestertius changed hands. ‘Another message? From my slave?’ I was not very hopeful, if the message came from Umbris again, but it was worth a coin.

This time I was in for a surprise.

‘Your slave said to say he saw Mellitus’s shadow in Corinium again. He saw them together in the market place and discovered from the cake-seller that the shadow was Mellitus’s own. That was the message. It didn’t make much sense, but anyway he wanted you to know. Made me repeat it several times. It didn’t mean anything to me.’

Shadow, I thought suddenly. Was it possible? Is that what Junio had said? He had seen Umbris in Corinium? Lercius had never heard the name and his Latin, though fluent, was inaccurate. Umbris had been to Corinium, I knew. But surely Junio would not send a message that concerned the messenger himself? Unless Julia had sent a different slave the second time, via the garrison, perhaps, as I’d heard her suggesting to the guard.

‘A different messenger, I suppose?’ I asked Lercius.

Lercius nodded.

I sighed. The message made no sense in any case. Umbris belonged to Marcus, not to Mellitus.

Or did he? The Nubian slave had been a gift to Marcus, a bribe from someone staying in the villa. Mellitus had visited before. What if he had ‘given’ Marcus what seemed a handsome gift? That would mean he had a spy within the household, someone who could watch and listen — and report to him. Someone who was well placed to poison another’s food — and make sure that it reached the intended victim too.

I had decided long ago that Praxus’s murderer must be a man of strength. Someone with sufficient size to seize him by the neck and throttle him when the dose of toxin proved not quite enough. From the beginning I had thought that only someone in Marcus’s household could have done the deed. Umbris was the obvious candidate. I had not wished to countenance the thought, when I imagined Julia was involved — but supposing Umbris worked for Mellitus?

‘That’s it,’ I said excitedly. ‘That solves the mystery of Praxus’s death, at least. Mellitus gets Umbris accepted in the house. Marcus is very pleased with him, and uses him at feasts. Then when Praxus comes along, and power is to be shared among the three, Mellitus sees a chance to murder him and seize more influence for himself. He provides the poison, Umbris serves it to Praxus in a dish — a very hefty dose of it no doubt. All this takes place in Marcus’s house, so even if anything goes wrong suspicion won’t fall on Mellitus — who makes very sure that he doesn’t leave the banquet, or drink any of the wine. The only danger is the bucket-boy — who knows that Umbris ordered him away — so Umbris chases him and murders him, and hides the body to disguise that he’s been there. Dear gods! Of course. That’s why he talked of Marcus as his “owner” all the time — his real master was someone else! To Golbo, of course, master and owner were the same.’

They were all staring at me silently. Even the woman and her boys had clustered round the door, and were listening openly to this.

‘Don’t you see?’ I said. ‘It must have been Mellitus who arranged that Umbris should be freed and allowed to act as Marcus’s messenger. The arrangement was presented as a concession to my patron, but of course it was nothing of the kind. Mellitus handled it very cleverly. He controlled the go-between! That gave him access to Marcus’s messages — no wonder he allowed them to be sent!’

I looked around. They were still gazing at me, rapt.

‘And of course, as procurator he had sufficient rank to co-opt Praxus’s bodyguard,’ I went on enthusiastically. ‘When Praxus’s death stopped looking like an accident he ordered that the villa should be searched — I heard him do it. No doubt he got the guard to plant that document. That way he turned events to his advantage. He made sure that Marcus was arraigned — so both of his rivals were accounted for! It was very neat. And when I started asking questions, he set Bullface’s soldiers on to me. It all makes sense.’

I looked round the room triumphantly.

Then Sosso spoke. ‘Good theory, citizen,’ he grunted. ‘Pity that not all of it is true.’

I stared at him, but Sosso shook his head. ‘We can prove it,’ he said. ‘Lercius and me. Cost you a sestertius, of course.’

The story, once I had paid for it, was this. The dwarf had done exactly as I’d asked, and sent his gang around the town to find out where Mellitus had gone. One of them — the woman with the child — was sent to investigate a seedy inn just outside the city walls, intended for travellers who missed the closing of the gates.

‘All your friends were on the lookout, then?’ I interrupted in surprise.

‘Still are. One at the garrison. Another begging outside Balbus’s door. .’ He was checking on his stubby fingers as he spoke. ‘One at your workshop too. You want to hear them all?’

I shook my head. Those few sestertii had been earned, I thought. ‘Go on.’

‘I can tell you,’ Cornovacus said. ‘The woman asked for water at the kitchen door and started talking to the slave who scrubbed the floors — you know the sort, searches the straw for bed-bugs every day. The silly sow had no more sense than boast about the “most important man” who had turned up in the middle of the night — in a litter with a page-boy at his side. Caused more sensation in a place like that than Jupiter arriving in a thundercloud. Anyway, the landlord turned his mistress out of bed and gave up his private room to Mellitus — he’d have offered to lick his sandals clean, by all accounts. I don’t suppose the procurator was all that impressed, but the place was cheap enough and he agreed to stay. It was like a confounded henhouse there next day, it seems, everybody twittering about and sending off for bark-paper, ink — all kinds of luxuries — while Mellitus went off to the garrison.’

‘Went there all right,’ Sosso grunted, by way of confirmation of the tale. ‘Our man saw him go.’

Capria chose that moment to come in with branches for the fire, and Cornovacus let her add them to the flames and leave again before he went on. ‘Came back looking as self-satisfied as a hunter with a bear and ordered lunch. Then, suddenly, his page came back with a message in his hand, and suddenly Mellitus paid up and went. Left everything — didn’t even stop to eat his lunch.’ He sneered. ‘The slave-girl finished off his pie herself, the stupid wench, and was soundly beaten when her owner learned of it.’

‘So, we lost track of Mellitus again?’ I said.

Sosso shook his head. ‘Told the slave to order him a horse. All true. Lercius checked.’

The boy chimed in, eager to agree. ‘There is a hiring stables right next door. The owner’s got the order chalked up on the wall. Hire and escort to Corinium, he said — though I couldn’t read the words, of course. Don’t know any more, because he threw me out. I poked one of his horses with a stick and made it rear. Didn’t it whinny, too?’ He grinned happily at the memory.

‘So Mellitus went home to Corinium. That’s what Junio’s message said. I wonder why? I’ve no doubt that the procurator organised events. The Nubian was here to act on his behalf. But something must have made him run away. It would be nice to know what made him change his mind like that.’

Sosso nodded. ‘Exactly, citizen. That’s why we brought you this.’ He held out a scrap of folded bark. ‘Lercius got it from the serving girl today. Had to twist her arm a bit.’

‘A note?’ I stretched out a hand for it, but Sosso snatched it back.

Lercius gave that manic laugh of his. ‘Serves her right for boasting that she had a souvenir. The procurator tried to throw it in the fire, she said, but she went and rescued it. She wouldn’t give it to me at first, but. .’ He mimed a savage twist.