John Roberts - Under Vesuvius

"I didn't mean me," I growled. "And I don't require an escort." I didn't want the woman to hear approaching hoofbeats.

Baiae being the small town it was, we were at her door in minutes. It was not locked, and the lictors rushed in with us close behind.

We found her seated at the rim of the pool of her impluvium, toying with a lotus flower that floated therein. She wore another of her silk gowns. This one was black, perhaps in recognition of the solemnity of the occasion. She looked up at me and saw instantly that it was all over for her. A lictor placed a hand ceremonially on her shoulder.

"Jocasta," I said, "I arrest you for the murders of Gorgo the daughter of Diocles; of your husband, Gaeto; of Charmian the slave of Gorgo; and of Quadrilla, wife of the duumvir Manius Silva." I almost added the rest of the formula, "Come with me to the praetor," but realized in time that I was the praetor.

She sighed. "You are such a stubborn man. If you had just executed that fool"-she jabbed a finger toward Gelon-"you would have been too embarrassed to come after me, even if you figured out the truth later."

"I have a high tolerance for embarrassment," I told her. "I wouldn't have let you get away with it."

"If you say so. But you are very sensitive, for a Roman. Not many would have gone to such lengths for a slaver's son. And you are wrong about one thing. I didn't kill Charmian."

"Then how did she die?" I asked her.

"Perhaps," Julia said, "you should tell us all that happened."

Jocasta stared at her with eyes grown haggard, a face abruptly aged. "Aren't you forward for a Roman wife?"

"She isn't a Roman wife," I told her. "She's a Caesar." I found a nearby chair and sat as a praetor should when hearing a case. The rest of my party remained standing, even Julia.

"Why should I tell you anything?" Jocasta demanded. "I'm to die whatever I say."

"I'll make you the same promise I made Gelon: No cross, no beasts in the arena. A quick beheading and it's over. But only if you explain it all. I owe this to Manius Silva and to Diocles and to the shades of the dead. They can cross over the river and know peace when this matter is settled and they are avenged."

"You owe Diocles nothing !" she hissed with shocking malice.

"All right," I said. "Let's start there. What was Diocles' part in all

this?"

"He was Gaeto's partner! I lied about the man in Verona. When Gaeto first set up in Baiae he needed a citizen partner, and he needed one of impeccable lineage. Slaving can be a chancy business, you know. He might have bought kidnapped Roman citizens by mistake, and then he would have been in terrible trouble. The penalties are fearsome, as you know well. He had to have a highly placed partner to speak up for him in court."

"Why would the priest of Apollo go into partnership with a slaver?" Julia wanted to know.

"For money, of course! Far higher than the usual percentage. And he wasn't a priest back then. His father was still the priest, and he had an older brother. But the brother died first, and then Diocles inherited the priesthood and he was too respectable, too noble for the likes of us. But he took the money. Year after year he demanded his cut, and year after year he snubbed us and treated us like offal beneath his feet!" The woman had great reserves of bitterness, that much was clear.

"And your talk about Greek malcontents meeting at the temple to talk against Rome, that was just magician's smoke to confuse my investigation?"

"Oh, such meetings were held, but nothing would ever have come of them. It was the drunken ramblings of resentful men. They all had too much at stake to risk revolutionary action. They were just disgruntled at having Rome lording it over them. But Diocles did help them out when they had financial troubles. He could afford to, with the money he raked in from the slave trade."

"You said you had a spy in the temple," I said. "Was it Gorgo or Charmian who told you about these meetings?"

"Charmian," she said sadly. "Poor Charmian. She was so lively and strong, so intelligent. No, Gorgo had little going on in her head and a great deal going on between her legs."

Circe astonished me by saying; "Did you love her?"

Jocasta jerked around, surprised. "No. She was a sweet, stupid girl and she was pleasant to be with, but I could not love such a creature."

"But those passionate poems-" Julia began, then she stopped, her eyes going wide. "You wrote them to Charmian!"

"We speculated such a thing at first," I said. "We found the poems in the girls' quarters. But we were fixated on Gorgo."

"She loved you, though," Julia said, her voice hardening. "She put on her best jewelry, anointed herself with your favorite perfume, Zoroaster's Rapture-surely you gave her the jewelry and the perfume?"

"Oh, yes, they were my gifts. But I wrote poems only for Charmian."

"So was Charmian your go-between with Gorgo," Antonia asked, "or was it the other way around?"

Jocasta regarded her with eyes worldly enough to give even an An-tonian pause. "Why do you think it had to be one or the other?"

"You mean," Antonia said, "all three of you?" Her face filled with wonder. "You were getting up to some serious debauchery out in Apollo's grove!"

"Very Greek in all respects," I said. "But she didn't wear her very best jewelry to that last meeting. She didn't wear this." I took the huge necklace from within my tunic and let it drop to its full length, the jewel-studded golden lozenges rattling faintly. Jocasta jerked slightly at the sight, glaring. "Gaeto gave her this, didn't he?"

"Yes!" She packed a world of hatred into one short word.

"Is it why you killed her?"

"No, it's just a bauble. But it portended worse things. Charmian told me about it, that Gaeto was meeting Gorgo and bringing her fabulous gifts."

"Poor little Leto said Gorgo returned to bed smelling differently after various assignations. Sometimes it was Jocasta's perfume, sometimes it was healthy male musk, Numidian variety."

"You are being vulgar, dear," Julia chided.

"And the girl was fickle," Jocasta went on. "She was beginning to fancy Gelon, who was closer to her own age."

I stole a glance at Gelon. He seemed to have turned to stone. Maybe he wasn't going to be executed, but he was getting a double ration of suffering.

"You mean," Hermes said, "you were bedding the father, the son, the woman they both loved, and her slave girl?"

"Let's not forget Quadrilla," I said, "but we'll get to her later. You said the necklace portended worse things. What did you mean?"

"I think I can answer that," said my wife, who had turned out to be unsettlingly handy with a dagger. "He was looking for a younger wife, wasn't he? One better placed than a Greek hetaera."

Jocasta smiled bleakly. "Pray you don't learn what it feels like. Yes, he wanted Gorgo for a wife. Unlike Gelon, he could have forced Diocles to his will. Killed him if necessary. Under all the polish I gave him, he was a brute. And Diocles wasn't much of a partner any more. The great men of the town were borrowing from Gaeto as well as from the priest. Any of them would have agreed to be a partner, as long as discretion was observed."

"So you got rid of her," I said. "Did Charmian help you?"

"No, both girls were asleep when I strangled her. With a scarf, it can be done so gently that the victim passes into death without ever wakening. Wives sometimes hire hetaerae to do away with their husbands in such a fashion. They seem to have passed away from overindulgence."

"But the scream-¦" Julia began. Then, "Oh, that was Charmian, wasn't it?"

"Yes, when I awakened her and told her her mistress was dead. She was distraught for a while, tried frantically to revive her. But she recovered quickly."