John Roberts - The Year of Confusion

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“I believe so. Polasser needed some experience in this sort of criminality. He was already a fraudulent astrologer and needed to build up his confidence in the wider world of business.”

“What was he practicing for?” I asked, already thinking I knew the answer.

“What is the biggest, most profitable activity in Rome?” she asked.

“Politics,” I answered. “Politics as it is practiced at the highest levels, among the great families. How did he expect to-” Then it struck me. “Fulvia.”

“He already knew her as her astrologer. He asked her to pick out some likely grain merchants and recommend him to them, tell them that his predictions were infallible. It’s a sordid business for a patrician, but I wouldn’t put anything past Fulvia.”

I thought about it. “The temptation must have been strong. That was last year. Her husband, Curio, was dead and there was no love lost between her and the rest of his family. She hadn’t landed Antonius yet, and she’s a woman with expensive tastes. She had to sell off his last harvest before his male heirs could get their hands on it. Polasser held out the prospect of a huge profit from very little effort, and I’ve found patricians to be no less larcenous than the rest of us. They’re just more snobbish about it.”

She let that pass. “The question is, what sort of fraud was he perpetrating?”

I pondered it. “As a foreigner Polasser couldn’t hope to take an active part in Roman politics, but politicians can be manipulated. He couldn’t manipulate them directly, but he could do so through their wives. He had the tools he needed already at hand since most of his clients were highborn ladies.”

“That chariot race elimination scheme wouldn’t work, though,” Julia said. “He wouldn’t have a large enough pool of victims to begin with. Plus, these are people who talk with each other constantly. The ones he’d given bad advice would complain about him to the others.”

“Right. It was something else. There are a lot of profitable activities at the top levels of government, but we can eliminate most of them. There are the propraetorian and proconsular commands, but the loot doesn’t come pouring in until the promagistrate returns more than a year after being given the office. There is huge money in the censors’ apportioning of the public contracts, but it’s five years between censorships and with a dictator in power, who knows when we’ll have censors again?”

“There is one issue of enormous importance yet to be decided,” Julia said after a long pause.

“I know. Caesar’s heir. It is the one problem I would give anything not to get involved with. I’d rather try to conquer Germania with a half century of rebellious Greek auxilia.”

* * *

“Time to wake up.” It was Hermes’ voice. I opened my eyes. It was black as the bottom of Pluto’s privy.

“Are the Gauls attacking?” I asked, trying to get oriented.

“No, we’re back in Rome. We have another body to look at.”

“What’s going on?” Julia said next to me. It was her half-asleep voice.

“Just another murder, my dear,” I assured her.

“Did you have to wake me? Go about your business, but do it quietly.”

I got up quietly, dressed, and armed myself without making a sound. The unquiet times in Rome and the years with the legions had taught me the useful art of keeping my clothes and weapons where I could lay hands on them quickly in the dark. I waited until we were outside on the street before speaking again.

“Who is it this time?” I yawned mightily. There was just a trace of gray in the sky to the east, barely visible between the towering tenements that lined the street.

“Felix the Wise sent a messenger. Felix says he’s found Postumius.”

“Postumius,” I said, scratching absently. I still wasn’t quite awake. “The missing figure in all this. I take it Postumius is the corpse we’re going to see?”

“Apparently so. The messenger will guide us there.”

I realized with a start that there was a man standing next to us. I am never at my best early in the morning. “How did you find your way here through these black streets?” I asked him. Few people ventured into the nighttime streets of Rome without a torch-bearing escort.

“I am Pelotas, Senator,” the man said.

“Pelotas? The famous burglar?”

“I was, Senator, before I reformed and became an honest man.”

“Right. That’s why Felix the Wise keeps you around. Well, lead on.” We followed him. He was quiet as a cat and walked through the gloom as if it were noon.

“I’ve known guides in Gaul who could work in the dark like you. They ate owls to improve their night vision. Do you eat owls?”

“That’s for barbarians, Senator. I have good eyes. My father and grandfather were famous burglars, too, but what gives you the edge at night is a drop of belladonna juice in each eye just before you go out. It brightens things right up.”

“It’s good to work with a professional who knows his trade,” I said. “Is Felix at the Labyrinth?”

“Not far from there. It’s a house by the river.”

We went through the shadowed streets and crossed the Forum and the cattle market. The gray light increased and I could almost discern my hand at arm’s length by the time we crossed the Sublician Bridge. On the other side we went down a narrow street and were immediately plunged into blackness again. Pelotas stopped at a door I couldn’t even see and knocked with a strange rhythm, some bit of underworld craft obscure to me and my sort. The door opened and light spilled out. The doorman was an ugly thug with a bare sword in his fist. When he saw who was outside he stepped back and gestured us in with his sword. Inside, I found Felix sitting at a table and five other men standing around, all well-armed. There were several clear violations of the law in that room and I wasn’t going to do a single thing about it. Nighttime in the Trans-Tiber was no place for a mere senator to be throwing his weight around.

“Welcome, Senator,” Felix said. “Have a seat. Got some nice warmed wine here, just the thing for a morning like this.”

I saw no problem with this and sat. Fragrant steam rose from the wine pitcher as he poured. The wine had herbs steeped in it and made me more ready to face what I knew was going to be an unpleasant duty.

“I have a feeling,” I said, “that Postumius is not going to be able to talk to me.”

“I’m afraid not,” Felix said, “but I’m pretty sure he talked to somebody.”

“Before I view the body, tell me how you found him.”

“It was Pelotas that found him. He was paying a visit here when he saw the corpse.”

“I smelled it first,” Pelotas said.

“I don’t want to ask why you were here,” I said.

“Just as well. Anyway, when I came in-”

“I don’t suppose you just knocked and come through the front door,” I said.

“Well, no. I came in through the roof.”

“All right, I’ll assume you were doing some repair work up there, had to remove a few tiles, that sort of thing?”

“Exactly, Senator. Anyway, I dropped in and the first thing hits me is the smell. I looked around until I found the room with the body. As you know, I see good at night, and that hour there was moonlight coming in through the window. I saw right away it was Postumius. I knew him from the races. He knew his horses better than most, and he knew all the drivers, so he was always good for a tip. Felix had put the word out a few days back that anyone who saw Postumius should come tell him right away, day or night, so I ran right over to the Labyrinth.”

“Why did you pick this house to visit tonight? Other than the necessary roof repair, I mean.”

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