Lindsey Davis - The Ides of April

Roaming the streets on the excuse of looking for public misdemeanours, Tiberius was perfectly placed to make attacks on pedestrians. He looked shifty. I had always felt something about him was wrong.

I began to discuss this with Andronicus, who was eager to share his own thoughts on the subject. We had to stop when Tiberius reappeared.

"A good report," he commented. Although I had had the scroll addressed to the aedile personally, the uppity swine had taken it upon himself to open and read it. Then, to my surprise, he added, "I am meeting up with Morellus tonight to review a plan of action. You could join us."

I said I would. Immediately I noticed Andronicus signalling that I ought not to. Tiberius naturally noticed too; he waited, sneering, for me to do what the archivist said. If they thought I was likely to be influenced, they were both wrong. I asked what time to arrive at the station house and since the appointment coincided with the normal hour for dinner, I advised Tiberius to bring his own food. "The vigiles have a terrible habit of sending out to Xero's for hot pies."

"Aren't they famous?"

"Legendary. Everyone goes to Xero's, has done for years. If your master ever wants to set up a public health investigation of pie shops, he could prevent a lot of food poisoning."

Andronicus looked as if he wished I had not given Tiberius the warning.

I saw no future in hanging around while the two of them locked horns. The runner had spoiled the moment for me and my friend. Giving Andronicus a polite goodbye kiss on the cheek, I managed to squeeze in close enough to whisper to him that the best way to monitor Tiberius was to watch what he was up to. Then I went home.

That evening, after the baths, I walked to the vigiles' local barracks. The last watch party was going out on patrol, so the building was silent and empty yet to me felt much safer than when the troops were there. I found Morellus in his interrogation room. This was the luxury suite at the station house-a grubby nook with a table that bore suspicious burn marks, a couple of three-legged stools that had had their fourth legs pulled off for hitting suspects, and an old cloak on a peg. The table was for Morellus to put his boots up on while he cleaned his nails with a knife he had once taken off a prisoner.

Morellus seemed puzzled to see me, so as I fitted back a leg on one of the stools to make it usable, I explained I had an invitation.

"Really? Has Tiberius taken a fancy to you, or something?"

"No, he thinks I'm a useless amateur. I've no idea why I was favoured tonight-unless he knew I would come with a packet of garlic squids." I placed it on the table. Morellus immediately swung more upright so he could have a look. The vigiles respond to very simple stimuli.

"I didn't know it was a bring-an-amphora party." He need not have worried because in fact nobody did bring one.

Since the runner had yet to arrive, I asked how well they knew each other. According to Morellus, he and Tiberius regularly shared information, and had done since Manlius Faustus took up his post in January.

"I'm finding this runner a baleful presence," I commented.

Morellus gave me a sharp look. "Oh, Tiberius is all right!" Normally I found the enquiry officer quite astute, so this surprised me.

We heard steps approaching across the yard outside and Tiberius turned up. "Quiet tonight!"

"I've got them all out looking. Even the ones who are off-shift."

"On a bonus?"

"No, I just promised not to punch their heads in." Morellus lowered his voice. "Funds are tight."

"I might be able to help?" offered the runner, as he went through the routine of temporary repairs to a stool. Presumably he could ask to break into the aediles' fines box for some petty cash.

Morellus waved this away. "No, no. The devious Scaurus is putting together a budget. Maybe for once our tribune will make himself useful."

At that time of night in April, the room was already dark; Morellus lit pottery oil lamps, most with pornographic scenes, of course. We gathered round the table. We munched as we worked. Tiberius had brought a fancy little picnic basket containing bread rolls, enough for all of us, and cheese, which he said Metellus Nepos had supplied. I presumed this was a gift to the aedile but Tiberius had snaffled it.

I grinned. "I suppose if you live in a large household, especially if it's a bachelor den, there must be competition to snaffle titbits from the kitchen staff. ."

"I find appearing in person with a starved look generally works," Tiberius conceded.

As I had feared, Morellus had equipped himself with a big rabbit pie, from Xero's. With an obvious wrench, he offered it round. Tiberius took a sliver politely. I was tempted, but held back.

Ignoring the danger of dripping gravy from the pie still in his hand, Morellus stretched out a crackly map skin of streets in our area. It looked decades old; I pointed out where parts were out of date.

"Oh it gets us from Alpha to Omega," Morellus mumbled.

"Well, maybe from Alpha to Phi. ." suggested Tiberius, almost letting himself smile.

I have to say that the next hour of three-way collaboration was an unusual session. It went better than I expected. The two men accepted me; I could work with them. Nevertheless, they seemed a slightly mismatched couple and it was unheard of for such men to consult with a woman. But we all approached the problem with the same level of seriousness.

First we had a round-up of known facts. Morellus contributed surprisingly useful background: "I have found out this is happening in other districts of Rome, and the word is, in other parts of the Empire. That might mean a global conspiracy, if you like such theories. Myself, I don't reckon to that. More likely, some pervert commits a rash of random street attacks in one place, then however much those at the top think they are in control, word gets out because the public are not fools."

"And a rumour gives some other madman the same idea?" I put in.

"Copycats?" Apart from this question, Tiberius was letting Morellus lead, or at least he was so far. Somehow I failed to see Tiberius as a hang-back subordinate.

"It's a known phenomenon. Well, if we can catch ours, that will still leave the others, but to be frank, I just want to clean up my own patch. I really do think," Morellus said defensively, though at his most convincing in fact, "if we concentrate on our particular perp, if we apply sound procedure directly to him and do manage to cop him, it will be more useful than haring about pointlessly, trying to tackle a whole city-wide scare and, let's face it, getting nowhere."

Tiberius nodded. As I watched him, I thought what an irony it would be if Andronicus was right and he was the killer. Andronicus had been lively and convincing about this, yet now it seemed a crazy idea. Tiberius looked up, perhaps saw I was considering him with a dark interest, and bit into a bread roll with his most unpleasant expression. This man could win the grimacing competition at the Olympic Games.

We debated my theory that the Aventine killer was a local. I showed Morellus on his map the Y-shaped junction of the Vicus Altus and Vicus Loreti Minoris. The map skin was probably a valuable antique, but the vigiles investigator pulled out an inkpot and marked it up with incident spots. Morellus spent half his working life chasing after stolen property; it had left him with no respect for treasures.

The other half of his time was given to victims of violence. I was unsure whether he had lost his respect for human life too, but tonight he theoretically paid it the right attention. "As far as we know," he pointed out, "all attacks have been in broad daylight."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to use the hours of darkness?" I asked. "Don't most repeat killers do that?"