Lindsey Davis - A dying light in Corduba

'Yes.'

'Your brother and Quadratus did not attend that dinner. Is this what you want to tell me? Did Constans tell you where they were instead?'

'They stayed away from the dinner – because of what was going to happen.' Claudia's voice was now barely a whisper. 'There had been a discussion in the Quinctius house about certain officials who were aware of the plan and taking too close an interest. The father…'

'Quinctius Attractus.'

'He said those people had to be stopped. I think he meant just pay them some money to go away, but Tiberius thought it wouldn't work. His plan was to hire someone to attack them instead.'

'Just to frighten them, perhaps?' I suggested.

Claudia, who had been staring into her lap, now looked up at me. She was a straightforward girl. 'Marcus Didius, I don't believe we should pretend. They were meant to be killed.'

'Who carried out the attacks?'

'The dancer, and some men who helped her.' 'Were your brother and his friend there?'

'How did you know?' I just raised a rueful eyebrow; Claudia steeled herself and finished her story: 'Quadratus persuaded my brother to be present – first when he hired the people to do it. Then – this is the gruesome part – they both hid in the shadows that night and watched as the first man was killed. My brother was horrified and ran away. Quadratus went with him. They got drunk somewhere, and later went home and pretended they had been to the theatre.'

I replaced my cup on the table in front of us. The tray wobbled; Helena reached out quietly and adjusted it.

'So Quinctius Quadratus and Rufius Constans were preseut during one of the attacks. Do you know which one?'

'No.'

'Did either of the young men strike the victim at all?'

'Not as far as I know. Not Constans, I am sure of it.'

I linked my fingers, still trying to sound calm. 'Thank you for telling me, Claudia. Is that everything?'

'That is all my brother told me. He was hysterical about it. I helped persuade him to go with Grandfather to admit everything to the proconsul – but they weren't able to have an interview. What should I do now?'

'Nothing,' I said. One step at a time. I might later want to ask her to consider becoming a court witness, but there were difficulties about calling a woman, especially one of refined birth. Somebody male had to speak for her it always weakened the case.

Helena glanced at me. She had realised that her plan to invite Claudia to Rome might be doubly useful now. We could get the girl there without antagonising her grandfather, then maybe ask Claudia to make a statement for the investigating judge, even if she was never called into court.

'Have I done the right thing?'

'Yes. Go home now, Claudia. I shall have to interview Quadratus, but I won't tell him where I learned my information. You need not even tell your grandfather you talked to me, unless you feel you want to.'

'So everything is all right!'

Nothing was all right. But we called for her carriage and her armed guards, then we sent her home.

Dawn is the classic time to surprise a villain, though I never know why. You run a great risk that his doors are locked. While you are kicking them in he wakes up in a sweat, realises what is happening, and gets his sword out ready to run you through.

It was still early evening. I decided to tackle Quadratus at once.

Aelia Annaea stayed behind with Helena. Marius Optatus came with me. We took his strongest male slaves, plus Marmarides. I strapped on my sword. The others were armed with whatever came to hand, mostly rakes and sticks.

The Quinctius estate was much like others I had visited, though it bore signs of the absentee landlord at his most astute: abundant flocks, tended by the fewest possible shepherds, and secondary cereal crops growing below the olive trees. Everything looked in respectable condition. Moneymakers don't neglect their land. Believe me, there was a great deal of land.

The house had charm and character. Thick walls to keep it cool in summer and cosy in winter. Vine-clad pergolas leading to statues of coy maidens. A separate bath-house. A terrace for airy exercise. It spoke of wealth, yet wealth possessed by an honest country family. Long harvest lunches taken with the tenantry. Girls with pink cheeks and boys who were keen on horseflesh. Life lived with a constant supply of fresh fodder and an old earthenware jug of home-produced wine always ready to hand.

Amazing. Even their damned house lied.

We told the escort to wait quietly but to rush in like ravening wolves if we signalled them. In the event even bringing them proved unnecessary. Quadratus was not there. He had listened when I advised him to take up his job as quaestor. The same day he came home from staying with us he had packed some note-tablets, taken a litter and a pack-mule, a personal bodyslave, clean tunics and a mapskin of the area, then he had told his servants he was going on a surprise tour of the Corduba mines. The procurator whose job was to look after them, and who was probably perfectly competent since he had been appointed by Vespasian, would not be too happy at an unannounced official visit. Nor was I, come to that.

Our trip to the estate was not entirely fruitless. I sensed that the staff there had almost been expecting me. They were surly and clearly nervous, and eventually one of them told me they had just been about to send over to fetch me from the Camillus farm when I turned up anyway. Somebody had left a message on the Quinctius premises, a message personally addressed to me. I could tell from the slaves' expressions I was not going to like it, even before they led me and Marius to the stable where this mysterious missive had been scrawled on a hitching post.

All it said was For Falco, followed by a neat pictogram of a human eye.

Lying on the straw below the drawing was the dancing girl called Selia. She was dressed in outdoor clothes, including a wide-brimmed travelling hat tied on over her own loosely knotted brown hair. She was dead. Her skin felt cold, though her limbs were still limp. She had been killed quickly and neatly by pressure to the neck. It was clearly carried out from behind before she realised what was happening. She had been lying here for a few hours. Unless Quadratus had sneaked back unobserved, the killing certainly happened after he had left for the mines. I could not believe he did it. The method was too professional.

If somebody was killing agents who had worked for Laeta, that could well mean they would now try to kill me.

Even before I explained what had just happened at the Quinctius estate, Helena Justina had lost the idyllic tenderness she displayed towards me earlier. She was cool. I did not blame her but I could have coped better with solicitude. We were in the garden again. I had hardly even started to discuss what I planned to do next, but we were close to quarrelling.

'Not the mines, Falco!'

'Just think of it as a tour of the local industry.'

'That's what you were going to say, I suppose – had Marius Optatus not told me the whole truth before you could stop him!'

'I don't lie to you.'

'You hold things back – if you believe you can get away with it!'

'I'm a man, Helena. I have to try. I tell myself I'm protecting you.'

'You're annoying me,' she snarled.

I said nothing. Pleasing honesty had failed: time to keep quiet.

'Marcus, I'm in an impossible position now! I don't want you to go – but I don't want you to stay with me unwillingly, just because of my condition; I won't be made an excuse. You'd never forgive me afterwards – maybe I wouldn't forgive myself! Besides, I know just how badly you feel about the mines. You suffered all the torments of Hades once in a silver mine; it's too much for you to volunteer this time.'