‘I think that you convince me that it isn’t, wife,’ I said. I was impressed by her clarity of thought, but it was evident that Lucius was not. His look of pained disdain would have shrivelled the marble statue beside him on the plinth, let alone the shrinking woman he was glaring at.
‘You are an expert on these things?’ he asked, in icy tones. ‘Perhaps you would care to view the corpse and give us the benefit of your experience? Enlighten us as to what the poison was?’ He turned to Marcus. ‘It seems that in Britannia, cousin, one must learn to take instruction from the most unlikely sources. Freedmen, slaves and women seem free to interrupt the conversation of patricians and — without being asked — offer their opinions about anything at all. This pavement-maker even has the impudence, it seems, calmly to issue instructions to your slaves and tell you afterwards. I assure you, you will find that manners are quite different in Rome.’
There was a stunned silence. Gwellia looked abashed. Marcus was visibly furious but, like me, he held his tongue. Even the attendant slaves against the wall were exchanging little glances. In the end it was Julia who spoke.
‘In Britannia, cousin, when we delegate a task, we do not expect to be constantly consulted as to how it should be done. My husband asked Libertus to investigate a death, and I believe that he is doing that, as usual. I can’t think that Aulus’s poisoning is coincidence. He has served this household without incident for years, and all at once we find that he is dead. It occurs to me to wonder what is different, suddenly?’
Lucius had turned that ugly pink again. ‘Are you suggesting that my presence here. .?’
Julia looked at him in obvious amazement. ‘Not at all. I meant that Aulus’s death was surely related to the other corpse,’ she said.
Yet Lucius’s reaction was an interesting one. Supposing that Lucius was the connecting link? He did not know anyone in the province except his family, so it seemed unlikely on the face of it. Yet if he had a secret enemy, perhaps, someone who had followed him from Rome? That had to be a possibility — Lucius was just the kind of person who did make enemies.
So suppose that there was someone who had tracked him down? Someone who poisoned the gatekeeper to gain access to the place? Attempted to get in more than once, perhaps — there was still the young man’s body to be accounted for, and cremation had not solved the puzzle of its identity. Another person who was party to the plot? Or — I was excited by this piece of reasoning — had our mystery young man stumbled on the would-be murderer somewhere near the house and had to be disposed of and buried hastily? To be a danger he would have had to recognise the man — someone that he’d seen before, perhaps in some quite different place? That would fit my theory that the corpse might have been a page — messengers by nature move from place to place, meeting a lot of people as they go, and — as Junio had pointed out — they may not immediately be missed.
But even supposing there was some truth in this (and the more I thought of it, the more I thought there was), how did Morella enter into it? And — the thought struck me with a sudden chill — what had happened to Lucius’s would-be killer now? If he had poisoned the gatekeeper to get into the house, it was possible that he was lurking even as we spoke.
‘Forgive me, Excellences, if I am speaking out of turn,’ I said with all the humility of a net-man at the games, ‘but it occurs to me to wonder if the poisoner has not finished yet. Aulus doesn’t seem to be a likely target in himself. There might yet be danger to someone in the house. I think that everyone should be on the alert.’
‘More guesswork, citizen? Save your imagination for your pavements, I suggest.’ That was Lucius.
I had not mentioned my idea that the threat might be to him in particular — I knew that he would merely dismiss it if I did — but his scathing rudeness made me regret that I had bothered to say anything at all. After all, I was only trying to protect his wretched life. Well, I’d not do that again. If anyone wanted to murder Lucius, I thought, I could see a certain merit in their point of view.
However, I merely cleared my throat and was about to launch into an explanation of what my thinking was when the rear door was opened and Junio came in.
No need for the homage ritual this time — Junio had presumably done all that before, and, unlike me, he had not since been in contact with a corpse. Marcus, therefore, greeted him at once.
‘Ah, Junio? You have sent out a party to bring Aulus in?’
Junio inclined his head in deference. ‘Indeed. And Stygius has sent land slaves to rebuild the pyre. He asks if there are other arrangements that you wish him to make.’
A slight frown furrowed Marcus’s brow. ‘Aulus was a member of the funeral guild,’ he said. ‘They would see to everything, and ensure that all was done with decency, with anointers and lamenters and a proper bier, if they were notified. But I doubt that even they could do it before tomorrow night — the ceremonies would have to be completed before midnight, when the spirits walk, and it is already very late to take them word today.’
‘Surely, cousin, if you made it clear that it was your request?’ Lucius sounded scornful. ‘A man of your rank and influence? I’m sure it could be done. Even if it is a little rushed, they have the wherewithal to see to it — hired mourners and musicans and all that sort of thing. They could quite easily bring them over here. And even if they couldn’t, does it really signify? The fellow was only a household servant, after all.’
Marcus ignored him. ‘I suppose I could get the stables to harness up the cart and drive someone to Glevum before the gates are shut, but by the time the cart was ready it would be getting dark. I’ve already sent Minimus on the fastest horse, and with the feast tonight I don’t really have another slave I can spare.’
I wondered if Niveus could overhear this from the anteroom and would suddenly dart in, eager to offer his services as a messenger. But Junio stepped forward. ‘Your pardon, Excellence, but perhaps we could send a message with the man who brought the wine. I passed him in the rear courtyard just a little while ago, unstacking amphorae from his cart. If we are quick about it, he won’t have finished yet.’
Julia laughed, a laugh of real relief. ‘A splendid notion, husband. I had quite forgotten that we had ordered fresh supplies for the memorial feast. I’m sure the driver would deliver a message, if you paid him to. Although he is a freeman, I expect he’ll find the guild.’
A wild idea was forming in my brain by now. ‘Patron, how long is it before your guests arrive?’
He looked at me, surprised. ‘An hour or two at best. Not all town councillors have water-clocks or sundials, you know — many of them simply have to estimate the hour, and if they prefer to travel out here in the light, I expect the first ones will soon be on their way. Though we won’t lie down to dinner until all of them arrive. Is it important?’
‘It occurs to me that one of us might go to Glevum, Excellence, if your wine merchant will agree to take us there. And if one of your guests could be persuaded to bring me back again. .?’
Marcus almost twinkled. ‘From which I deduce that you intend to go yourself? But it seems a good suggestion. You know where to go?’
I nodded. ‘I have dealt with a slave funeral before. It won’t take long,’ I said. I did not add that there were other things I hoped to do as well — like talking to the dancing girls again, if possible.
‘Then I will arrange it, if you are sure, old friend.’ He clapped his hands, and this time Niveus did come running in. ‘Go and tell the wine merchant I need his services. I want him to take a passenger to Glevum when he goes. Perhaps he could take Junio and Gwellia as well as far as the roundhouse, since the lady wants to go.’ He turned back to me. ‘I’ll write to the garrison, asking them to waylay one of the town councillors coming here to dine and get him to wait for you. Or, if necessary, bring you back themselves. There is plenty of military transport they can use. I will go and do that now.’