‘I wish she had. She went to a wise woman, secretly. And since then she has failed to conceive. These forceful internal applications of brimstone remove the child, but they can endanger the woman too, and prevent her from future births. That was what Julia feared. And she still had pain. That is why she came to me. She wanted to take advantage of her husband’s illness to let me soothe the inflammation, and perhaps effect a cure. She could not guess, of course, that Ulpius would die before she could test the efficacy of the treatment.’
‘I see,’ I said. ‘You have been very frank. But there is something else I need to ask. It is a delicate matter, but it is important that I know. What form, exactly, did your treatment take?’
Sollers hesitated a moment, but then he answered. ‘I gave her herbs to drink, and a soothing douche of olive oil and milk. And, before you ask, it was the latter which I administered yesterday. Quintus was engaged with Maximilian, so we took advantage of the moment. So, if you are suspecting that Julia might have killed her husband, I can tell you otherwise. She needed to lie down to have the treatment, and for a little afterwards, and I was with her all the time. She may be embarrassed to tell you this, but it is the case.’ The medicus looked at me soberly. ‘Is there anything else, citizen, which you need to know?’
It was my turn, suddenly, to feel embarrassed. I was aware of having intruded upon a very private professional relationship, and of having forced the man into disconcerting candour. ‘Not at all,’ I said hurriedly, ‘you have been most helpful. I apologise for having felt the need to ask. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I will go and warn my patron. If I intend to visit the town I should do so before the morning is quite over.’
I turned back into the house and made my way to Marcus, with Junio again at my heels.
Marcus was in the blackest of moods. He had been given the best guest apartments, and had been provided with a pair of braziers, as requested. All the same, he had felt the cold. The house was draughty after his first-floor apartment in Glevum, and clearly the hypocaust was not as effective as the one in his country villa. He had scarcely slept a wink, he said; the couch was lumpy and the room was cold.
‘The sleeping draught which Sollers provided for you made no difference, Excellence?’ I asked solicitously. ‘I didn’t drink mine until it was almost light, but afterwards I slept like Morpheus.’
My enquiry did nothing to improve my patron’s temper. ‘It tasted foul,’ he replied testily. I guessed that he had hardly tasted it and that my testimony now added to his discontent. He was irritable with cold and fatigue and the provision of a bought pie for breakfast had not helped matters, despite the exquisite tray and silver platter on which it had been served. Unlike Flavius, Marcus preferred more delicate flavours in the morning.
It was not, perhaps, the most propitious moment for making my announcements, but I could see no help for it.
I took a deep breath. ‘Excellence, something has happened that I think you would wish to know.’ I outlined everything that had happened since we spoke, beginning with Rollo’s visit to me the night before, up to the gruesome discovery in the latrine that morning.
Marcus heard me out in silence. He hadn’t been to the latrine himself. A glance beneath the bed told me that he had been given a more personal utensil. A latrine is a sign of status, certainly, but important visitors like Marcus cannot be expected to get up at night and walk all the way across the courtyard in the rain.
‘So,’ he said, when I had finished my tale, ‘you think that I have made an error? I shouldn’t have arrested Lupus. That is the gist of what you are telling me?’
It was not altogether the response I had been expecting. ‘I mean that since Lupus was locked into the attics, on your orders, Excellence, it is impossible that he could have done this. And it would take a stronger man than Lupus to force Rollo into that latrine.’
He looked at me with more interest. ‘So you think our killer is still abroad?’ He glanced around the frieze of the chamber as though there might be someone lurking among the painted acanthus leaves.
‘I think, Excellence, that you should be careful. There is, for instance, one dreadful possibility that occurs to me. Suppose that the boy was poisoned after all? Sollers agrees that it is possible. There may be something unwholesome in the kitchen. Or, possibly, a poisoner abroad.’ I did not wish to alarm him unduly, but to my relief he took the bait at once.
He nodded. ‘I’ll have my slave down from the attic, to act as a food-taster. You can use Junio. One cannot be too careful.’
‘And make sure everyone knows you’ve done it,’ I said. ‘By the by, Excellence, you have not, I suppose, received a message of any kind?’
‘A message?’
‘It occurs to me that since there has been another death, someone might have received another message. Mentioning Pertinax, perhaps. Sollers was right, in one respect at least. Murderers often do repeat themselves.’
Marcus smiled. ‘No, I have received no warning. We can take that, perhaps, as a sign that there was no deliberate attempt to poison you?’
I wished that I could be so certain. The message which Quintus had received was not exactly a warning either, unless you knew how to interpret it. In fact, when I came to think of it, Quintus had not actually ‘received the message’ at all. It had simply been discovered in the colonnade. The identity of that wax tablet troubled me. Was it the same one that Flavius had shown me, the one which Junio now had hidden in his tunic?
‘You did not see that earlier tablet yourself, Excellence? The one which Ulpius spoke of in his letter?’ I asked the question without any real hope. After all, Marcus had discussed the matter with me at length.
‘Oh, yes,’ Marcus said, as if it were the most natural revelation in the world. ‘He sent it to me with the messenger. It was rather a distinctive thing. I have it with me somewhere.’ He gestured helplessly towards the iron-bound wooden box which had accompanied him from Glevum, and which now stood at the foot of his couch. ‘If I hadn’t sent those wretched slaves away, I could have shown you.’
He could not be expected to rummage in the box himself, he meant. I could only smile wryly. First, because it was so typical of Marcus that he should tell me the details of the story without ever deigning to show me the evidence; and second, because my own bundle of possessions, wrapped up in a piece of cloth, would not have required a pair of slaves to search it: a strigil, a comb, a clean tunic and a fresh pair of under-breeches was all the baggage I possessed.
‘Perhaps,’ I suggested helpfully, ‘if Junio. .?’
Marcus assented with a nod. ‘Why not?’ He produced the ring key from his finger and Junio lifted the heavy chest while he opened the lock. ‘You will find it in there, somewhere. It is wrapped in a leather pouch, since it is a delicate thing.’
Junio put the chest down gratefully, and fell to his knees beside it. It was full to bursting. Marcus had equipped himself for a visit to Corinium like an imperial general crossing the Alps: toga, cloak, sandals, underlinen, woollen foot socks, oils, combs, nose tweezers, ear scoops, even a travelling shrine and a box of ointments. And underneath, the leather pouch of which Marcus had spoken.
Junio pulled it out and handed it to Marcus. My patron opened it to reveal a fine wax writing tablet set in a carved ivory frame. Junio had just such another object hidden inside his tunic.
I nodded to him and he pulled that out in his turn.
Marcus looked from one to the other in dismay. ‘But these are identical. Where did you get the second one from?’
I told him about my interview with Flavius.
My patron frowned. ‘So we are back to Flavius again. I should have guessed that he was involved in this. After all, it was his dagger. You said from the outset that Flavius had a motive for hating Quintus. And yet he was so quick to point out the stains on the old man’s toga. . no doubt to deflect suspicion from himself. And he had arranged that Rollo should visit him last night.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘Ah, yes, it all fits. Once again, Libertus, I should have listened to your counsel. I was too hasty in forming my judgements.’