John Roberts - A Point of Law

“ Pugios have such blades.”

“And all the weapons were double-edged? These cuts look like they were made by a sica .” I referred to the curved, single-edged knife favored by street thugs.

“These were not delivered as cuts. The wounds are very asymmetrical. In each case the blade was stabbed in, then dragged from right to left as it was withdrawn. This is characteristic of a right-handed assailant. The gash thus opened is wide, but not very deep. A typical sica cut is symmetrical and deepest in the center.”

“So we are looking at a minimum of three murderers?” I asked.

“At least three knife wielders and possibly more. But there were others involved.”

“How so?”

“You notice that there are no wounds to the hands and arms?”

“I wondered at that.”

“Any man, seeing hostile blades attacking his body, will try to ward them off instinctively. For this many weapons to have landed on his torso, he should have received many cuts on his arms and hands.”

“He was held.”

“Held from behind, hence no wounds in the back.”

“Is it possible he was bound?” I asked.

“A man being killed struggles hard against bindings. It leaves deep ligature marks on the wrists, and this man has none. I believe that, had the body not bled out so thoroughly, we should see bruises on the shoulders and arms, where at least two strong men held him fast while he was stabbed.”

Hermes spoke up. “Might he have been asleep? If he was lying on his back there’d be no wounds there, and by the time he woke up he might have been too weak to defend himself.”

“No,” Asklepiodes said, “these blows were not delivered downward. The angle of entry would be quite different.”

“Besides,” I said, “he was stabbed through his tunic.” I looked around and found a temple slave. “Bring us the dead man’s garments.” He trotted off and in a few minutes I told the physician about the strange events of the last two days.

A few minutes later the slave brought the bloody toga and tunic. He even had the dead man’s sandals. “We were about to burn them,” the slave said.

“I am going to keep these as evidence.” At my request Asklepiodes’ slaves spread the clothes on the floor. There were numerous rents in the tunic, but the toga, though stained, was whole.

“It looks like he wasn’t wearing the toga when he was killed. The murderers must have wrapped him up in it to carry him to the Forum and leave his body where we were sure to find it.”

“Why was he wearing such shabby clothes?” Hermes wanted to know.

“I am wondering that, too. He was of good birth, although he’d won no distinction in Rome. Yesterday, when he berated me in the Forum, his clothes were of good quality. He would have worn his best coming to appear in court today. Hermes, I want you to take these home with you. They might prove significant later on.”

“Carry these rags?” he exclaimed with horror. “They’re unclean!”

“You’re ready enough to shed other peoples’ blood. I don’t see why you should object to getting a little of it on you. It’s all but dry, anyway.”

“I’m not going to touch this stuff,” he said stubbornly. “I don’t care how many purifications the priest performs.”

“I hate superstition,” I said. “All right, there should be a sack around here someplace. Get a temple slave to bag this up for you first.” He went off in search of one.

“Sometimes I regret giving that boy his freedom,” I said to Asklepiodes. “Now he thinks he’s too good to run errands.”

“He’s grown into a fine-looking young man though. I’ve missed seeing him practice at the school in recent months.”

“He should be glad I never sent him to the mines.”

“I trust your lady, Julia, is well? Is she still bothered by her family complaint?” By this he meant the famous difficulty the Caesars had with conception and pregnancy. Since our marriage Julia had conceived three times and miscarried by the fourth month in all three cases.

“Still. I try to comfort her, tell her that this is her heritage and there is no disgrace in it, but she feels humiliated nonetheless.”

He shook his head. “I do hope she is not going to unscrupulous physicians and wise women to cure the problem. They are all frauds, and their remedies are sometimes dangerous.”

“I warn her not to, but I fear she does it anyway.”

“I know of no treatment for infertility other than maintaining her health through a good diet and moderate living. Beyond that, one can only sacrifice to the gods of fertility and hope for their favor.”

“I thank you for your concern, old friend.”

At that moment Hermes returned with a bag and a slave. With the gory clothes bundled up, we took our leave of Asklepiodes and left the temple.

Julia was ready when I got back home. “What’s this about you being involved in a murder?” she said, even as the door swung open. She caught sight of Hermes behind me. “And what’s in that bag?”

“Just some bloody clothes,” he said. “What the murdered man was wearing.”

“You will not bring any such thing into this house!”

“Oh, come now, my dear,” I said reasonably, “I’ve bled all over this house and no harm has come of it.”

“ Your blood attracts nothing but flies,” she answered. “A murdered man’s garments can attract his vengeful spirit, and that man wasn’t well-disposed toward you when he was alive!”

I turned to Hermes. “Go stash that bag with the tavern keeper down the street. He won’t ask questions.” Most of my neighbors were under obligation to me. “And don’t hang around drinking either. We have a lot still to do today.” I went on inside.

Julia had laid out baked fish, sliced melon, and bread. Between bites I told her of the morning’s doings. She didn’t pale much when I described the condition of the body. She’d seen worse.

“So it wasn’t just one man out for a reputation,” she said. “I didn’t think so. But now there seems to be a whole crowd involved. A conspiracy. I think it’s to be expected if it’s a move against your family.”

“Possibly against the great families in general,” I pointed out.

She raised a hand to her brow. “Let’s try to limit this. If it’s a prelude to class war, it’s too big for us.”

“Do you know anything about this tribune, Manilius?” Julia had spent far more time in Rome than I in recent years.

“Just another young climber. Do you think he’s involved?”

“He was on the scene awfully fast, and of all the tribunes, he’s the only one I’ve heard of who has declared neither for Caesar nor Pompey.”

“That is odd. Will you attend this contio he’s called?”

“My presence might be seen as disruptive. Besides, I want to use whatever time I have left free to investigate. If he gets a decision to go to trial before the whole assembly, he may call for my arrest.” Usually, that meant that I would be confined to the house of one of the praetors until trial. I could always flee the City; but that would be an admission of guilt and I would just be tried in absentia, found guilty, and exiled.

I pushed away the plates. “Now tell me what you learned yesterday.”

She picked at her own lunch, which consisted mostly of fruit. I wondered if this were another of her fertility-inducing fads. The pome-granites suggested I was right.

“I called on Fulvia yesterday evening. As I suspected, she was glad of company. Clodius’s old friends are mostly staying away from town, and she won’t be received in decent society. Her brother-in-law, Appius, is even making noises about taking the house back.”