Rosemary Rowe - Death at Pompeia

‘So Antoninus’s murder was not connected with the statue, after all?’ Redux contrived to look relieved at this.

‘Indirectly, I think it may have been. It was what brought Antoninus Seulonius here the other night, and that’s what caused his death. But Helena Domna and her doorkeeper were not the only ones who feared what Antoninus could reveal. Zythos, for example, was a victim too.’

‘Zythos, dear man, is unfortunately dead.’ Redux’s plump face was pink and crumpling. ‘I think we can keep his reputation out of this.’

‘Of course he arranged that Minerva should be stolen, shipped and sold.’ Gracchus was attempting to be judicous now. ‘But he could hardly be responsible for what has happened since. Certainly not for either of the deaths.’

‘And yet, you know, I rather think he was involved,’ I said, as gently as I could. ‘Not only these deaths, but Honoria’s as well.’ I turned to Livia. ‘And doubtless, madam, you would agree with me — if you can be prevailed upon to admit the truth.’

Livia had risen to her feet. She was as pale as marble, though her eyes were bright. ‘Citizen Libertus, you have made your point. Helena Domna has admitted to every charge you raised. I cannot imagine what you hope to gain by blaming a dead man for my husband’s death — far less the death of a man I hardly knew. Let Gracchus pay you, as he promised, and we will say no more — lest Zythos’s spirit be offended and return to haunt us all.’

‘As he already haunts you, madam?’ I enquired. ‘The “fair-haired beauty” to whom he wrote his poem? Oh, don’t look startled — Redux told me that he had seen the verses though he did not suspect they were composed for you. No doubt he could also identify the lock of hair that you are wearing in that locket ring. I should have noticed at the time that you referred to it as “the dead man’s hair”, not “my husband’s”, as one might expect.’

I looked at Redux and he swallowed hard then said, ‘I only knew that Zythos had lost his heart — and that it was not to me.’

‘It was you, lady — I am quite sure of it,’ I said. ‘It was you that he was hoping to encounter on that night, when he was discovered in Honoria’s room — the bedroom that she usually gave you, when you came to stay.’

Helena Domna looked triumphant now. ‘So it was you, you hussy! Let me see that ring.’ But Livia simply went on gazing in a kind of trance, as if she were trying to read the mural on the wall.

‘It must have been convenient for a lovers’ tryst,’ I said. ‘The house was next door to an inn, and Honoria’s bedroom looked out on a tree. Zythos was young and vigorous — it was not hard to climb — once he had let himself into the grounds. And you left the shutters open, by arrangement too, so that he could come and find you in the room.’

Livia let out a tiny sound, but went on staring blankly at the wall.

‘Only, on that fatal night,’ I went on mercilessly, ‘it all went wrong. Honoria had announced that she was with child again, and this time she did not offer you her room. So when Zythos entered for a night of love, it wasn’t you he found. What happened, Livia? She cried out, I suppose? Why else would your husband have burst into her room? She screamed her innocence, but he killed them both. The deaths must have been on your conscience ever since.’

Pulchra stepped forward from behind the couch and put a hand upon her mistress’s arm. ‘What nonsense, mistress. Take no notice of the man. Of course you would never have done anything like that.’

‘But Pulchra, you were in a private cubicle in the servants’ quarters of the house,’ I said. ‘You told me so yourself. How can you be certain what she did or didn’t do?’

Pulchra turned crimson and stepped back again. ‘I know my mistress, that’s all I can say. Anyway, it’s only guesswork. Where’s your evidence?’

‘Antoninus had it, but I have it here.’ I reached into my pouch and took out the writing tablet in its pretty case. ‘This is your writing tablet, madam, I believe. There was a message scrawled upon it, in such haste that the stylus went right through and scratched the wooden frame. The marks had been covered with a layer of fresh wax, but when that was melted it showed up again.’

I held it out to Livia but she looked away. ‘I have told you, I don’t believe that is my writing block at all. Pulchra will tell you, the one I had was lost.’

‘On the way to visit relatives, you said. What relatives were these? You had no family of your own, I think. It was your stepdaughter and her husband you were going to see. “A.S.” Can you see it, madam? You wrote that, I think. A.S. Not Antoninus Seulonius as I thought at first, but Aqua Sulis — where you hoped to be. And that makes sense of the other scratches, too. “Tomorrow. Usual. . ajar.” It was a message to Zythos, wasn’t it? You could not give it to a messenger openly, as you might otherwise have done, because Honorius was riding in the coach with you. So you had to send it in secret and pretend the block was lost.’

Redux was looking with fascination at the block. ‘And I saw Zythos with it — but he wouldn’t let me look at what was scratched on it. He laughed at me and hid it in the folds of his toga. It was the last time I ever set eyes on him in fact.’ He had been sounding mournful, but he sat up suddenly. ‘But how did Antoninus lay his hands on it?’

Livia let out a little moan again. ‘That doorkeeper again. It must have been. When Zythos sent me a reply on it.’

Junio nodded, quite excited now. ‘And then Antoninus saw the scratches and worked out what they meant — and he has been blackmailing Livia ever since.’ He stopped. ‘But why should she suddenly kill him in that case? And why kill her husband? That makes no sense at all.’ He sat back to permit the steward to come in, pick up the drinking cups and fill them from the wine crater that he’d brought in with him.

‘It’s because she’s carrying that wretched Greek man’s child!’ It was Helena Domna, with a sudden energy. ‘He was always round here — courting Pompeia they said — and therefore invited as a dinner guest. Yet looking back it was clearly Livia that he’d come to see. I don’t know why I didn’t spot it at the time. But if that is his child that she is carrying, then it is just as well that Honorius is dead. He would have killed her for dishonouring the family otherwise.’

‘Precisely so, Helena Domna,’ I said carefully. ‘Or if he didn’t kill her, he’d have divorced her and sent her away. And that would have left her penniless, of course. Her dowry would be forfeit if he proved unfaithfulness. She couldn’t even hope to inherit when he died — Honorius had already shown that he had no sentiment, and would disinherit anyone who strayed — and their descendants, too. Neither Livia nor the child could have hoped for anything.’

‘What makes you assume that this is not my husband’s child?’ Livia was shaking with emotion as she spoke. ‘That is mere conjecture on your part, and it is libellous. It was said in front of several Roman citizens as well. When the funeral is over, and the will is read, I shall sue you for injuria , pavement-maker — see if I do not. And I did not kill my husband, if that’s what you imply.’

‘But you had the means to do so, didn’t you?’ I said. ‘You knew Honoria’s mother had left a poison phial behind. And on the morning of the wedding it would not have been hard to slip the contents into the watered wine that you yourself had sipped — to take away the taste of Maesta’s morning sickness cure — and persuade Honorius to take a drink of it. And if it tasted a bit peculiar — which it might have done — it was no great step for you to urge him to test the wedding wine. After which, of course, attention was wholly drawn to that wine. Fortunate that the diluted dosage took a little time to work.’