Marilyn Todd: I, Claudia

Come the interval she was five asses and a quadran ahead and should have been feeling pleased at the strict limits she’d imposed on herself. Instead it rankled that she still was no closer to finding the murderer than before. Gaius, bless him, shuffled off to talk to one of the praetors and his wife, but Claudia remained seated. Who could possibly have discovered what she was up to? She had a nasty suspicion it was one of her clients, but who? In each case, discretion was everything. Only old Quintus approached her direct, and because his request to meet in the tenement was unusual, even by her standards, and she’d exacted such an exorbitant fee she hadn’t bothered to enquire further. Until he’d been murdered.

She stood up and stretched. Junius was nowhere to be seen, so she set off in search of refreshment. Rumours were spreading fast of a maniac abroad, gouging out the eyes of the nobility to keep as grisly souvenirs, and locksmiths could charge double (and often were) for the protection the governing classes were seeking with such desperation. Callisunus had scores of men working day and night to catch the demented lunatic, but Claudia’s intuition told her that Orbilio was working silently and secretively to find a link.

‘There you are, my sweet.’ Gaius handed her a quince decorated with thorns to resemble a sea urchin. ‘A dainty treat, what?’

Claudia wrinkled her nose and swapped it for a pomegranate. Speed was certainly crucial here, because should Gaius catch wind of her activities, he’d throw her into the street without so much as a backward glance. Hadn’t he insisted on both prudence and fidelity as part of the marriage contract? Under no circumstances would this man allow himself to be made a fool of. Oh yes, she’d really have to move fast.

‘Gaius, old man! You’re looking well!’

‘Ventidius Balbus! Well, I never. Claudia, you remember Ventidius?’

Remember him? How could she forget him? The mention of his name had sent shivers down her spine when Orbilio had thrown it into the conversation-but for reasons he could never have imagined. The very last thing she wanted was to see the fellow today.

‘Of course. How are you, Ventidius?’ Dying of leprosy, I hope.

Six, seven years ago in Genoa, when he was an ambitious young magistrate, Ventidius Balbus would hire nubile dance troupes to entertain at his banquets and she honestly couldn’t remember whether she’d slept with him or not. Good tippers she’d recall, but otherwise a punter was a punter, you never looked at his face. Especially one as bland as that pasted on Ventidius Balbus. She studied him now. Puny as ever, eyes like boiled gooseberries. When she’d taken on the persona of the other Claudia, the one whose family had been wiped out in the plague, there were precious few people in Rome who might recognize her but Balbus had been one. Luckily for her she’d been installed as Gaius’s wife for nearly a year before their paths crossed, and when they did meet at some function or other it was patently obvious he hadn’t made the connection. Nevertheless, prudence was one of Claudia’s saving graces and it didn’t hurt to avoid him wherever, and whenever, possible.

‘Can’t complain. But you, my dear you look more ravishing as time passes.’

Claudia bared her teeth in the semblance of a smile and was about to turn away when she remembered why Orbilio had mentioned him. She heard Gaius saying: ‘You’ve been buying property in the south, I hear?’

‘Vultumum, do you know it? Dull town, despite its-’

Claudia wasn’t interested in dreary chitchat. ‘You’re landlord of the apartment block where they found Crassus, aren’t you?’

Both men looked startled. ‘Why, yes-’

Gaius picked up her hand and patted it. ‘Claudia, my sweet, you don’t want to concern yourself with that terrible business.’

‘Rubbish. If there’s a madman on the loose what decent person dares sleep soundly in their bed?’

‘One understands the fellow only picks on men,’ Balbus said. ‘One would assume-’

‘One assumes nothing of the sort,’ she retorted. ‘A madman is a madman. Who knows what’s going on inside his lunatic skull? Until he’s in chains, I for one won’t rest. Has anyone been round asking you questions?’

Balbus blenched. ‘What rumours have you been hearing?’ he asked. ‘One doesn’t like to think one might be a suspect.’

‘Don’t be so silly. I meant do they have any witnesses, things like that. I mean, if it’s so terribly overcrowded, you’d think someone would have had their eyes open, if you’ll pardon the expression.’

‘People keep themselves to themselves in those places,’ Balbus said.

‘I thought that was the very thing they couldn’t do,’ she snapped, ‘packed together like feathers on a duck. Gaius, you really ought to lobby someone-’

She found her arm being slipped through her husband’s and a distinct pressure on her elbow.

‘Claudia, my sweet, we should be getting back to our seats. Let’s meet, Balbus, say, three o’clock at the baths tomorrow?’

‘Excellent. Hope to see you soon, then, Claudia.’

‘Ghastly little man,’ she said to Gaius, knowing Balbus might well be within earshot still. ‘I don’t know why you put up with him.’

‘If I stopped dealing with ghastly little men, my sweet, I’d be out of business by the end of the month. He’s got fingers in all sorts of interesting commercial pies and as I so often tell you, it is frequently the indirect contacts which prove more fruitful than the direct.’

‘Well, I hope you never bring him to the house.’ She tossed the pomegranate over her shoulder. ‘I didn’t like the way he was looking at me.’

‘Every man in Rome looks at you the same way.’ Gaius gave her arm a gentle squeeze. ‘But I’ll probably invite him to the banquet.’

‘What banquet? Gaius, I wish you’d consult me more often.’

‘Claudia,’ he replied patiently, ‘I told you about it weeks ago. The one on the Ides.’ An ominous edge crept into his voice. ‘I hope you’re not telling me you’ve forgotten, because I’ve invited some very important people.’

Damn, damn, damn. It was Melissa’s fault, of course, she should have reminded her!

‘Oh that banquet.’ She shrugged indifferently. ‘I thought maybe you’d slipped in another one.’

Nine days. She’d really have to steam to get the bloody thing organized in time! And how was she going to find the time to track down a killer as well?

More cymbals, more animals, more bets, more losses. ‘Our paths cross so rarely these days,’ he remarked eventually.

Often enough for my liking.

‘You always seem to be out, Claudia.’

‘You always seem to be busy, Gaius.’

And not only with work.

‘I don’t bring it home, though.’

‘Even you aren’t that insensitive!’

Gaius pursed his lips. ‘Now, why are you so prickly today, my sweet? You usually enjoy the games.’

‘I’m always prickly,’ she said, and Gaius’s heavy body shook with laughter.

‘You’re right there.’ He leaned conspiratorially towards her and lowered his voice. ‘Fancy a small bet? I know it’s illegal but once in a while maybe…?’

Claudia shook her head. ‘Can’t be bothered,’ she said, frantically signalling to Junius to put a whole denarius on the leopard. ‘Maybe when the gladiators come on.’

*

The midday executions had been a bit of a disappointment. Either Rome was getting safer or criminals were getting smarter, but whatever the cause, only five men went down on to the sand and none of them lasted long. Watching the pairs slug it out had been pitiful and the survivor, the snivelling coward, had positively hurled himself at the wretched tiger in the end. What did he think? That because he’d beaten the others he was free to go? Claudia had lost several sesterces on him, because until then he’d proved a tough character and she’d bet double that he’d fight like a man and last a good fifteen minutes. However, she couldn’t complain. Geta, one of Rome’s finest bestiarii, had got himself disembowelled by a rhinoceros before he could fire off a second arrow, and her rash bet on the rhino had left her well ahead of the game.