Marilyn Todd - I, Claudia

‘That way, sir. To your right.’

Orbilio thanked him and followed the mosaic. He passed two men, groaning and grunting, and prayed they were just reacting to the oppressive air.

Paternus’s voice sounded ever reedier. ‘…advise you to tread carefully. I have it on good authority-nay, the best-that Seferius has a preference for…’

Damn! No matter how hard his ears strained, Orbilio couldn’t pick up the whispers.

‘Never!’ The lawyer’s companion sounded incredulous. ‘Gaius Seferius! Are you sure?’

‘Is the Emperor a Roman? Naturally, you won’t bandy this around, will you?’

‘Trust me. One presumes Seferius guards his secret well?’

Paternus sucked his teeth. ‘In view of Augustus’s, shall we say, sensitivity on the issue, you can bank on it.’ There was a long pause, and Orbilio fought for breath as the steam swirled and eddied.

‘To be frank,’ the other man said at length, ‘I also enjoy-how can I put it? — pleasures which one’s wife is not willing to provide.’

The lawyer let out a weedy laugh. ‘Who doesn’t?’ he said. Orbilio couldn’t see, but he sensed Paternus had edged closer to his companion. ‘My own preference-’ The voice dipped to a hushed tone. After several minutes of intense whispering, at the point when Orbilio was starting to fidget, he heard the lawyer scoff.

‘Claudia Seferius? Believe me, she’s not what she seems, either.’

Orbilio’s head shot up and suddenly he was on the alert. Gossip and filth were second nature to him. He picked up all manner of information to store away in the library of his mind, calling upon it whenever the occasion demanded. It came in useful during his investigations, because faced with another’s knowledge of his own peccadilloes, it was surprising how a man tended to remember events rather more clearly, or how names were dropped with a greater frequency. There was an upside to everything, Orbilio reflected, especially when it allowed him to pocket the money Callisunus allocated for bribes. Thus he’d expected to routinely squirrel away this information about Seferius, but not by any stretch of the imagination had he imagined hearing Claudia’s name brought up. Particularly not in such a derogatory tone.

‘Bugger!’ The extrovert general, blundering through the steam room in much the same way he’d charge across a battlefield, tumbled headfirst across Orbilio’s outstretched legs.

Apologies were exchanged as both parties accepted the blame, but by the time the general had left so, it appeared, had Paternus and his friend.

Orbilio took another dip in the cold bath to tighten his pores. He admired Seferius, the way he’d clawed his way up, and it must have been a proud day for him when he was finally appointed to the equestrian order. Moreover this promotion for a man whose father had been a humble road-builder and whose great-grandparents weren’t even freeborn. No indeed, it was no mean achievement, amassing the four hundred thousand sesterces necessary before you could even consider admission to the order which in itself was no foregone conclusion. Orbilio would have liked to hear more about Seferius’s improprieties, maybe drop subtle hints to Claudia? As he towelled himself dry, he began to question the ethics of stirring up trouble between husband and wife, but decided he could justify it somehow, if he put his mind to it, because the prospect of Claudia divorcing her husband…

‘Enough of this, Marcus Cornelius,’ he muttered aloud. ‘She doesn’t even like you, so you can rein in those thoughts immediately.’

Many a night he’d plotted how best to win her round. The quickest way, he supposed, was to solve these bloody murders and perhaps, when he stopped treating her like a suspect, she might open up a bit. Trouble was, he thought, she still was in the frame. However hard she tried those strong-arm tactics, Claudia Seferius was indeed very much still in the frame.

He dressed, drank a goblet of wine topped up with water, treated himself to a couple of pastries, then made a beeline for the exercise yard. A workout with weights ought to sweat out his frustrations.

‘Pssst!’

He stopped instinctively. Occasionally it was an informer, most times it was for someone else, but it always paid to keep your ears open. He pretended to fix the lace on his boot.

‘Pssst!’

He glanced round. There was no one there.

‘Over here!’

A small face peered round the base of a fluted pillar.

‘Rufus? Rufus, what are you doing here?’ A grubby finger hooked itself into a gesture of beckoning and Orbilio followed, shaking his head ruefully. ‘What do you want?’

The ragamuffin settled himself cross-legged behind the column. ‘You know that classy tart you was interested in? Well, she’s been in a right old hoo-ha this morning.’

‘Oh?’

‘There was a riot down by the cattle market and she was right in amongst it and no mistake.’

‘Sure it was her again?’

‘Yep. Can’t miss that orange litter, cor, what a colour! Anyways, she tries to run off, like, and guess what? Some big geezer yanks her into a shop.’

‘Rufus, are you telling me she’s been kidnapped?’

‘Her? Leave off! Duffed up a bit, that’s all.’

Orbilio sat down beside the boy. ‘Rufus, I want you to tell me exactly what you saw. Understand? Don’t leave anything out, describe everything as you remember it.’

His head was buzzing. He should be chasing leads on Crassus. Dammit, he should be chasing leads on all four victims, checking accounts, grudges, lunatics, locksmiths, slaves, family, friends…

‘Rufus, what were you doing following her?’

‘I wasn’t following her, I was-’

Thieving. Orbilio covered his ears with his hands. ‘No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. How did you know where to find me?’

The dirty face broke into a knowing grin. Orbilio grinned back, tossed him four quadrans, then, taking pity, tossed him another four. Venus is fickle today, he thought, scratching the back of his head. There but for a handful of street yobs, Claudia Seferius and Marcus Cornelius Orbilio would have met at the baths this morning. It felt as if he’d swallowed one of the lead weights from the exercise yard. He jumped to his feet. No longer did the prospect of a day to himself appeal. The thought of ball games and athletics palled, because suddenly it seemed urgent to nail the bastard who went round chiselling eyes out of their sockets.

‘Mister?’

‘What?’

‘Can I come along with you?’

‘No, you most certainly cannot.’ He wanted to say it was dirty and dangerous, but he quickly realized that that was probably all this poor kid had ever known. ‘Don’t you have a family?’

‘Nope.’

There were so many like Rufus, he thought sadly. Despicable as the practice was, he could see the case for abandoning unwanted babies up on the midden heaps. At least it would be relatively quick, whereas kids like Rufus-who was what? seven or eight? — were doomed to die in some fetid alley without ever knowing love or warmth or happiness-or even a full belly.

‘I think it’s high time you had a bath, my lad,’ he said, lifting Rufus up by the back of his tunic. ‘Come along.’ There was more than a hint of resignation in his voice. ‘Let’s get you fed first.’

The journey to the villa was hot and dry and dusty. The wagon’s wheels sought out every bump on the road, the slaves sulked and the driver remained disgustingly cheerful. Drusilla, joggling along in a specially constructed cage, howled incessant protests. Dear Diana, who deserves this, Claudia thought, gouging her initials out of the woodwork with a bone hairpin. It was all right for Gaius, shooting off in his two-wheeled car. He didn’t have to contend with three obstreperous horses being wound up by a skittish fourth possessing a truly evil sense of humour.