Marilyn Todd - I, Claudia

‘You’ve dug yourself into this hole and if I’m to bail you out, you brainless cretin, I’ll be as offensive as I fucking well like.’

The pointy hat drooped slightly to the left. ‘Is it my fault I get the date wrong?’ Marius threw up his hands. ‘I have not been well lately, but do you care? My own brother and he ignores me.’

He turned to Orbilio, who forced himself to follow the conversation as though nothing had turned his world upside down.

‘Do you have brothers?’

He was given no chance to either nod or shake his head.

‘Do yours leave you at death’s door? I should say not. You know, I could have died the other night.’ He lowered his voice and whispered, ‘It was the fish, I swear it-’

Callisunus grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him. ‘Marius, you self-absorbed prat, I suggest you take that fish and shove it right up your arse.’ He marched towards the steps to the Circus, jerking his head to indicate Orbilio should follow him. ‘My own brother can you believe it? Jupiter, he really pisses me off at times!’

Callisunus human at last? Could it be? Encouraged by the sudden (not to say unexpected) uplift in his fortunes, Orbilio raced up the steps after him, eager to capitalize on the moment. He was aware of Marius following in his wake. The glare of the late afternoon sun made him squint as a pungent smell of horseflesh slammed into his nostrils. ‘I need another day, sir.’

The Head of the Special Police stopped in mid-stride. ‘Tell me I didn’t hear that.’

‘One more day, that’s all.’

Callisunus barged aside a charioteer. ‘We’ve been through this, Orbilio. Tomorrow you start work on the Verianus fraud case.’

The cracking pace he set down the length of the racetrack presented no obstacle for Orbilio’s long legs. Behind them, however the priest was rapidly losing ground. His thick cloak flapped like heavy flightless wings, his conical hat wobbled precariously. Callisunus glanced round, tutted and stopped short.

‘My brother is a right pain in the arse,’ he said, casting his eyes over the seats banked up the side of the auditorium. ‘But tomorrow a quarter of the city’s going to pack itself into this place, including my good self, so if Consus doesn’t get his honouring of first fruits, it’ll fuck things up good and proper.’

The priest of the festival was wheezing like a pair of bellows and had to support himself on the low wall which divided the track down the centre. When he realized the dark stains he was leaning against were dried blood, he quickly jumped away again.

Orbilio felt his moment melting away. It was now or never. Callisunus would not have the patience to grant his request after another round with his brother.

‘One more day, sir, and I’ll tell you why.’

‘Forgive me, Paulus, it was not my intention to annoy you. The slave gang will be fine, honestly.’

Callisunus looked from one to the other, using the same expression of exasperation for both men. If he chose to hear his brother, Orbilio was sunk, his rosy future little more than mucky brown, and for the first time he began to realize what it must be like for a defeated gladiator to beg the crowd for pardon. For Callisunus to turn to him would be the thumbs-up, while if he turned to the priest…

The Head of the Security Police had no problem deciding which irritant to brush off first. ‘Marius-’

It really was turning into a pig of a day.

‘Marius, where the fucking hell do you think I’m going? I’m on my way to organize your fucking slave gang, so go back and fucking dig, will you? Because if by tomorrow morning every fucking flower and fruit known to man isn’t garlanding your altar, your fucking head will be. Got it?’

The priest smiled ingratiatingly, and as he did so the spiked skull cap plopped into the sand. Swooping down to retrieve it, the bronze buckle holding his cloak fell off, and the moment his fingers closed round the clasp his woollen cloak slid into a pile of steaming horse dung. Callisunus closed his eyes and shuddered.

‘Oh dear, oh dear. I do hope I am not embarrassing you, Paulus.’

Callisunus could take no more. He shook his head and began to march down the track in the direction of the Tiber, the lengthening shadows implying a deceptive coolness in the air. Orbilio kept pace in silence, and when he glanced back he noticed Marius was still encountering difficulty with his priestly garb and wondered how he coped when he had to wear the laurel wreath as well. The god of the harvest store deserved far better he thought. Of course, Marius would only have landed the job because of his brother’s influence, the same as this oily bastard only landed his own job because he’d fawned and flattered every rung of the ladder. For a man of the equestrian order however the position was nevertheless a remarkable achievement-even for a fathead like Callisunus, doggedly maintaining the killings were random in spite of the evidence laid before him. He sighed in the deepening gloom. Not that Callisunus, whose breadth of vision extended little further than the tip of his pug nose, looked upon these conclusions as evidence.

‘Bollocks!’ he’d said, when Orbilio had finished outlining his case. ‘Gossip, hunch and innuendo, the lot of it. You mark my words, this is the work of a maniac, picking his victims at random, and at the end of it you’ll find he’s been hearing voices urging him to do it. Divine retribution or some such shit, see if I’m not right.’

Orbilio supposed that having expressed this opinion so often and so vehemently to the Emperor when he made his weekly report, Callisunus was hardly likely to retract without cast-iron proof. Which could only come in the form of a confession. Well, he was buggered if he was going to be sidelined on to some damned fraud case for the sake of one lousy interview, and if this quick-tempered, foul-mouthed, narrow-minded weasel thought he could brush Marcus Cornelius Orbilio aside just like that he had another think coming. The Senate beckoned…and competition was stiff. Unless he solved this bloody case, he might as well forget it.

At the obelisk at the end of the track, Callisunus stopped abruptly. ‘I don’t need a bodyguard, Orbilio. Even this lunatic wouldn’t pick on the Head of the Security Police.’

‘He’s not a lunatic, sir. Leastways, not in the sense you mean. Another day and-’

‘Orbilio, watch my lips. You are off the case. Finished. End of story. You’ve even put in your report.’

‘Only verbally.’

‘Yes, and I warned you about that, too. I don’t want to see these scurrilous lies on paper do you understand? For your sake, as much as mine. I told Seferius what you said-’

‘You what?’

Anger boiled through Orbilio in a way he’d never imagined possible. The bloody imbecile! ‘This was supposed to be a covert operation, sir.’ How many more had he blabbed to, for heaven’s sake?

‘Oh, come on, man, what did you expect? You’ve been masquerading as his wife’s cousin, how much longer do you think before he found out? What is it with you and her, anyway? Got your leg over?’

Orbilio’s fist thudded into the palm of his hand. ‘No, sir,’ he said quietly, ‘I have not. I told you before, I had a hunch about the house and forgive me for saying so, but that hunch proved correct.’

The sun was sinking fast now.

‘The little slut Melissa, you mean?’ Callisunus gave a snort of derision. ‘So she’d been giving Crassus a bit of hanky-spanky, nothing wrong with that. Partial to a spot of it myself sometimes. You just remember, Orbilio, her involvement was only discovered because the greedy bitch tried to sell that poor bugger’s clip, not through any cleverness on your part.’