Marilyn Todd - I, Claudia

‘I understand that, sir. But-’ Should he or shouldn’t he? Hell, at this stage he had nothing to lose. ‘There’s something else.’

Callisunus chewed his thumbnail. ‘Oh?’

‘I believe there’s a series of murders going on in the Seferius household.’

‘Don’t fuck with me, Orbilio!’

Damn! It sounded so utterly inane when you said it like that.

‘Please, sir, hear me out. First it was his eldest daughter, then his two sons. Now his new granddaughter is dead.’

‘Seferius is full of this shit at the moment, you shouldn’t listen to him, it’s pitiful coming from a man like him.’

Callisunus swatted away a troublesome wasp.

‘The babe was an abomination. They put it out of its misery-’

‘Who, sir? Who put it out of its misery?’

‘Oh, get real, Orbilio, the child was malformed, they killed it. Happens all the time. Now will you clear the hell out of my face!’

‘No, sir!’

‘I’m warning you, Orbilio. One more word and I’ll have your balls for subordination.’

Have them, they’re no bloody good to me.

‘If you would listen to the full story, sir-’

‘If, if, if! The world’s full of if’s, haven’t you noticed? Well if you have reasonable grounds for opening a case, and by Jupiter I do mean reasonable, then put them in writing, to me, and I will consider them.’

Callisunus skirted the obelisk and set off towards the gate.

‘Does that mean I can work on the case, sir?’

‘What case, Orbilio? There isn’t a fucking case, I haven’t had your fucking notes yet. And even if there fucking was, you won’t be fucking working on it. Do I make myself plain?’

There was a shout from behind, different from the cries of the charioteers and the slaves working in the Circus, which made both men turn. Orbilio recognized the man running towards them as Timarchides.

‘Sorry to interrupt, sir but you ought to know. Paternus the lawyer’s been found dead in his home.’

‘Shit!’ Callisunus glanced towards the underground shrine. ‘Timarchides, organize a slave gang to dig out the altar. About ten men should do it. Oh, before you do that I want you to brief Metellus about the lawyer.’

‘Metellus?’

Timarchides was looking from Callisunus up to Orbilio and back again.

‘Deaf, are you? Yes, Metellus. He’s working this case from now on.’

Callisunus turned to Orbilio. ‘And you. Get some sleep, get laid, get whatever you want, but get the fuck out of my sight. Tomorrow’s the Consualia and I’ll be holding my idiot brother’s hand, but the very next day I want your views on the Verianus business. Tuesday morning, is that clear? And in writing.’

He stumped back up the track, muttering to himself. Timarchides twisted his face. ‘Off the job then, sir?’

‘Looks like it,’ Orbilio said, narrowing his eyes. ‘Unless I can work two cases at once.’

Timarchides smiled. He’d worked with this investigating officer for the past four days and his opinion of him had softened considerably since he’d brought the news about the slave girl to the Seferius house. He’d watched the professional at work, seen more dedication from one man in those few days than in as many years from some of the men he’d served.

‘I’d give it my best shot, if I were you, sir. Two murders in six days, looks like the killer’s getting daring.’

A warm glow began to spread through Orbilio’s veins. ‘And daring, Timarchides, means careless.’

‘Precisely, sir. And I’ll tell you something I didn’t have a chance to tell the gaffer: Paternus was still alive when his eyes were gouged out. There was blood everywhere, it must have been one hell of a struggle.’

He saluted and ran back up the track in the direction Callisunus had taken, his figure quickly swallowed by the deepening twilight. Orbilio ran his hand over his chin and headed for the nearest exit. He didn’t need sleep, he was too worked up. He couldn’t get laid, the very thought of touching any other woman was becoming more abhorrent by the minute. But, by Jupiter he could get drunk. Oh yes, mind-bending, brain-numbing, sick-making drunk. He turned out of the Circus and towards the river. There was a good tavern down on the waterfront. The men were rough, the whores were raddled, the food was rubbish. But the wine was strong. Minerva, yes, that wine was strong.

‘Marcus!’

Head down, thinking about the evening ahead, he hadn’t been looking where he was going and of all the people he’d rather not have bumped into, Gaius Seferius headed the list. Dammit, he liked Gaius. He wished he didn’t, but he just couldn’t help it.

‘What brings you to the Aventine?’

‘I’m going to get pissed,’ he said simply. ‘Rip-roaring pissed.’

Seferius smiled wanly and clapped him on the back. Even after Callisunus had blabbed that Orbilio wasn’t his wife’s cousin, it didn’t seem to bother him. In his book, a friend was a friend and Orbilio felt disgusted at his own treachery. How would Claudia explain it, he wondered, cursing himself for forcing her into such an invidious position. But then she’d think of something outrageous to pass it off, she always did. It was one of the reasons he loved her.

‘You know, Marcus, I think that’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all week. Mind if I join you?’

He looked at Seferius. Poor sod looked seventy, not fifty, and it was all very well for Callisunus to shrug off his theories, but Orbilio believed it when Gaius said his babies, as he called them, were being picked off, one by one, like ripe fruit from a tree. He didn’t believe in coincidence at the best of times. Certainly not when three of a man’s four children meet untimely deaths and his baby granddaughter-healthy, kicking and thumping to get out by all accounts-is suddenly pronounced malformed and hideous and gets put to the sword. Not when there’s a fortune at stake. Gaius was right, Orbilio was convinced of it. Someone was murdering his family.

He wished his own father had been more like Gaius. Jovial, loving, dedicated. But more than that, he wished-Juno, how he wished-that he could hate this man who had married a red-blooded vixen with skin like thistledown and eyes the colour of beechnuts. No doubt if he thought the man’s big hands kneaded Claudia’s magnificent breasts on a regular basis it would be a different matter. In fact if Orbilio thought of him between her thighs, grunting and groaning, his huge belly pressed into her soft flesh, quite likely he’d kill him.

‘Why not, Gaius?’ he said at last, wrapping his arm round the big man’s shoulder. ‘Why the hell not?’

The familiar sensations returned with a vengeance. Even after an absence of several weeks where, for one reason or another the games and the races had been out of reach, Claudia felt the age-old tingle of excitement, the rush of colour in her cheeks, the rapid heartbeat long before the first blast on the trumpet or the first beat of the drums. With half of Rome scurrying to escape the punishing summer heat, you’d think there’d be more empty seats, but the place was practically full. Something to do with celebrating a good harvest, she supposed. Which was all right if you were into peas and beans and olives and things, and enjoyed watching that half-baked priest make a fool of himself. Idiot! Tripping over his cloak and knocking himself out on the underground altar right under the noses of the Vestal Virgins, too. Claudia would lay money that next year Consus’s festival runs as smooth as a water-clock…without the interference of that bumbling dwarf in the silly hat.

She watched the nobles take their seats, the best in the Circus to befit their status, her eyes automatically sweeping to see where Orbilio might be sitting. Not that she was interested in this particular patrician personally, but if he was attending these wretched races, it would do no harm to avoid the irritating little tick, would it? A hush settled over the auditorium. Some puffed-up little state official, feeling superior in his purple robe and gilded laurels, thought he could brook convention by making a speech. The crowd quickly taught him otherwise and, crestfallen, he dropped his white napkin sullenly into the sand, and that was it. Business began in earnest.