John Roberts - A Point of Law

“This will bear some thought,” Julia said. “What did you learn at the baths?”

I told them about my little foray, and what Sallustius had told me about the meeting he had attended at the house of Fulvius.

“Sallustius was holding something back,” Julia said. “He didn’t give you the names of the other attendees.”

“Even Sallustius can be discreet at times. He knew that if he named names and I used this in a prosecution or denunciation, each of them would know which gathering it was and who had blabbed. That could mean death or permanent exile for him. And he went to only one dinner party, so he could not have known that one of the guests was a permanent fixture at these meetings. The significance would have escaped him.”

Julia scanned the names, her lips forming each one as she read it, barely voicing them. “What other names do we not see on these lists, now that we are thinking in negatives? I don’t see either Curio or Manilius. These were written well before Curio declared for Caesar, and he was known for his indebtedness. Why not him? And Manilius was a tribune. Who better to rouse the mob against the moneylenders? They would have seemed natural targets for this scheme.”

“I am not satisfied with Fulvia’s story that she had nothing to do with her brother while he was in Rome. She might have known about Curio’s defection ahead of time and told him. As for Manilius, he’s shown no signs of exceptional radicalism. Curio says the two of them cooperated during his tribuneship.”

“There is the matter of that estate he suddenly came into,” Julia pointed out.

“The Claudii Marcelli have plans, and some of them are even constitutional. It’s never a bad idea to have a Tribune of the People in your pocket. It’s done all the time.”

“Or,” said Callista, “either one of them could have been the ninth man.”

Julia smiled at her. “Now you’re beginning to think like a Roman.”

“By next year,” I went on, spinning out my speculations, “or maybe the year after, I believe they intend to declare both Caesar and Pompey to be enemies of the state and get the Senate to name one of themselves dictator. That one will name one of the others his Master of Horse.”

“How can they do that?” Julia said, heatedly.

“I don’t know, but they will provoke Caesar in some fashion, offer him some insult that he can’t allow to pass. They want to force him into a move that they’ll be able to take before the Senate as proof that the state is under attack and call for an Ultimate Decree of the Senate.”

“I don’t understand,” Callista said. “I thought a dictator was a usurper, like a Greek tyrant. And what is this-cavalry commander?”

“Among us,” Julia explained, “dictator is a constitutional office. In time of deadly national danger, such as a foreign invasion, when our division of powers is too slow and clumsy to meet the emergency, the Senate can direct the consuls to name a dictator.

The dictator in turn names another man to be his Master of Horse. This is an ancient title for his second in command, who will carry out his orders.”

“The dictator,” I went on, “has full imperium. He does not share it with a colleague, and his acts are not subject to tribunal veto. He is attended by twenty-four lictors, the number of both consuls combined. The dictatorship is what we call an ‘unaccountable’ office. Alone of all Roman magistrates, when he leaves office he cannot be called to account for his acts. He can order anything , including the execution without trial of citizens. He can declare war on his own initiative. There is no limit to his power save one.”

“What is that?” Callista asked.

“Time. A dictatorship is held for six months, and then the dictator must step down. Sulla’s dictatorship was unconstitutional. It was a military coup. There weren’t enough senators in Rome to pass a resolution of dictatorship. Once in power he doubled the size of the Senate to pack it with his flunkies, and then had them keep voting him back in as dictator. He held the office for three years and didn’t step down until he was too sick to go on. This sort of thing is why we so seldom appoint a dictator.”

“It would take great fear to make the Senate do it now,” Julia said.

“People are ripe for it,” I pointed out. “You’ve heard all the scare talk, seen all the line drawing that’s been going on. Agitation to cancel debts and perhaps massacre the bankers and money lenders would add fuel to the fire nicely.”

“But something happened,” Julia said.

“Yes, something caused Fulvius to swerve from the path that had been laid out for him and instead attack the Metelli through me.”

“Look at this one,” Callista said, handing me a translated page. “It is one of the last.”

You are to stop this foolishness. Your support is withdrawn. We have called back our men, and they will no longer aid you. Render an accounting for your actions at once or face the consequences.

“This does sound impatient,” I said.

“And this is the last one.” Callista handed me the page.

I am sending you more slaves for your household and more men for your protection and support. They are rough, but trustworthy. As long as you remember the terms of our bargain and adhere strictly to them, you will achieve your ambitions and will have nothing to fear from me. Do not try to contact me. I will send someone for you should we need to meet.

“This last message differed from the others,” Callista said. “It is written in a woman’s hand.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. The differences are quite distinct.”

“Fulvia?” Julia said.

“Not Fulvia, though she is probably involved. This was written by Octavia.”

“Octavia?” Julia said.

I told them about the heavy hints Sallustius had dropped concerning the wife of Caius Claudius Marcellus and her little brother.

“When I met with her yesterday,” I paused. Could it have been just yesterday? “When I talked with her yesterday, she was a little too emphatic in proclaiming that she had cut her ties with the Julian family, that she thought Julius Caesar was a potential tyrant, that she had nothing to do with the Fulvians, that she had no knowledge of her husband’s affairs, that she hadn’t even seen her brother since he was an infant, and she didn’t follow City gossip. Is such a thing believable?”

“Not in our family,” Julia said. “I think Sallustius is right. He’s a weasel, but he knows his subject. Caius Marcellus does nothing without her knowledge. She knew all about this plot, and she even learned their code. She knows what futile bunglers her husband and his kinsmen are. She knows that Julius Caesar is destined to be the greatest man in Rome, and she wants to make her brother his heir.”

She said this with a bitterness that surprised me. Then I understood that she had hoped that a son of ours would be Caesar’s heir. It seemed that the gods had other plans.

“So Octavia subverted the plot?” Callista asked. “How could she do this? What lever did she apply to move Fulvius more to her liking?” Even in asking this she used an analogy from Archimedean mechanics.

“It’s unlikely that she was able to promise him greater rewards than he already expected,” I said. “So it must have been blackmail.”

“She couldn’t have accused him of political scheming,” Julia said. “Everybody does that anyway.”

“No, Octavia threatened to expose him for the murder of Aristobulus. The Marcelli wanted the Greek out of their way, and they wanted to bind Fulvius more tightly to themselves, so they sent him to do their dirty work.”

“What proof?” Julia asked.

“It must have been the ring. The Marcelli wanted the ring back. It was the only thing that connected them to Aristobulus. Fulvius killed Aristobulus and delivered the ring. Octavia got hold of it and showed it to Fulvius. She’ll have had some sort of written evidence connecting him to the crime, but she concealed the ring in the desk her husband lent to Fulvius. Anytime she wanted, Octavia could have some ambitious friend, Curio, for instance, accuse him and demand an investigation. The iudex appointed to investigate would get an opportune tip as to where to find the ring. Those men who caught Hermes and me going through Fulvius’s belongings, it was the ring they’d come for. The Marcelli weren’t concerned about the papers because they were in cipher. But Octavia wanted that ring back.”