‘I imagine he’s offering to deal with your late husband’s estate?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘You don’t need a man for that.’
‘Don’t I? He’s trying to take over everything. I was knocked sideways at first, but I am now ready to tackle things. He says I have to have a guardian or it is not legal. This is what I want to ask you about. I saw you at that auction; you looked as if you knew how things are done.’
Well, that summed up my work. I was pleased with her assessment.
‘I can certainly help you get rid of that man, if that’s what you would like.’ He might retreat after a few well-chosen words from me or, if not, I could call in muscle to warn him off. ‘Did Niger leave a will? If he bequeathed everything to you, all you have to do is this: find his assets, pay the right inheritance tax – I have an aunt who does figurework; she sometimes helps my clients – then you can enjoy your property in your own right, while you get over losing Niger. You don’t want to be worried by anything financial while you are learning to cope with your loss. I can introduce you to a very sympathetic woman banker, if you have investments to look after. I have been widowed myself and I always advise my clients to stay in their house if possible, or at least the neighbourhood they know, and to remain single until they have passed at least two anniversaries.’
‘That man said I had to marry again in six months.’
‘Two or three years. Unenforceable anyway. Don’t worry about it. He is probably scared you will see through him if you wait. He’s right, because you already have done! Do you mind if I ask, did Niger leave things behind in a mess?’
‘It’s all neat,’ his wife boasted, proud of him. ‘He was organised. He did say if anything ever happened to him, I should marry again and he won’t haunt me …’
‘No, he didn’t seem the haunting type.’
‘He was all right. I cannot see the point,’ complained Claudia Galeria, ‘of passing from one man, who wasn’t a bad one, straight to another, who could be anything.’
I told her cheerfully I could help her avoid that.
We settled for a proper client talk: what I could do, what I could not do, what she did not require or want, what I would charge her. ‘The bonus is, unlike the fool you are dumping, you will never be asked to marry me.’
We laughed. She had been married to Niger for thirteen years. There had been many floors to mop, but basically she did not regret it; what more can you ask? ‘I could buy a little slave now to do the floors and that, couldn’t I?’
‘You could. You’d have to train her to your high standards.’
‘I might enjoy that!’ She actually chuckled, and I could see she intended to do it. ‘It’s a relief talking to you, Flavia Albia.’
‘This is my job. This is why people come to me.’
Then she said there was another thing she wanted to ask: could I put up a notice in the Forum, like the one I drew up about Valens, to ask people to come forward and tell us if they knew what had happened to Niger?
50
She had a point. No real effort had been made to look into Niger’s demise. Once his body had fallen out of the chest at the auction, he had been carried off and cremated. Faustus and the vigiles had had too much to do at the time, calming the fighting factions in the Porticus of Pompey. Afterwards, even with Faustus taking charge, enquiries had dribbled to a halt.
In Rome, if nobody makes a complaint, people can die of obvious unnatural causes yet never be investigated. All you need is to ensure a nice quick funeral and no one contesting the will. That is how murderers get away with it.
I apologised to Galeria.
‘It’s not your fault, dear. Nobody is paying you for that, are they?’
I could have bragged about my constant struggle for truth and justice, but with such a down-to-earth woman it seemed better to give a queenly smile in agreement.
‘Now look, Albia, I would hire you to find out who done him in, but as we just discussed, I’d rather spend the money on a girl to mop the floors. I’ll give you what you say is the right money to put up a notice. Then I shall feel I have done my bit for Niger.’
‘A wise approach.’ I produced a new set of note tablets. ‘But, Galeria, before I chalk up a notice, I need to ask some questions. There’s no charge for this, incidentally. A man has been killed. Somebody did that, and I need to know what I’m going into.’ Galeria looked frightened. I set the notebook to one side. ‘Don’t be scared. Look, I don’t try to catch a murderer without having some idea about who he might be and where he might come jumping out from. This is for my safety, and your own.’
Galeria saw my point; she toughened up. ‘I’ll have a broom ready to whack him.’
‘Excellent!’
‘But what about you, dearie?’
‘Don’t worry about me. The last time a killer came looking for me, I shoved him off the balcony. That’s why the window is blocked up.’ Impressed, Galeria looked over at the folding doors, here in the main room of my office, once a good feature but now boarded with builders’ safety panels. ‘Now, we have to start with Niger. I’m going to ask you about his work in general, then what he had been doing specifically for the Callisti.’
When I interviewed her before, I had thought Claudia Galeria knew little about how Niger spent his time. Nevertheless, like many, she kept her eyes and ears open. She had quite a lot to tell me.
Until recently, Niger had worked for various people, one of whom was an extremely rich woman called Julia Terentia. Through some connection of hers he had been introduced to the Callistus family. ‘That all started when they were looking for an election agent.’
‘To help Volusius Firmus when he was standing for the aedilate?’
‘Niger was finding things out for him to do with the rival candidates.’ Oh, that job! The sleaze pitch. I knew all about that. ‘It fell through, though.’
‘Yes, the man had to stand down …’ A thought struck me. ‘Firmus has a wife I’ve met, called Julia Laurentina. I don’t suppose she is any relation to your Julia Terentia?’
‘Yes, of course!’ Galeria exclaimed in surprise. ‘They are sisters. Laurentina asked Terentia if she could recommend an agent. That was how my Niger was offered the work.’
Another sister! Diana Aventina. How many Julias were there? (Four so far, plus a brother). And how intricately tangled were their links in the events I had to investigate? Claudius Laeta had given me a hint. I definitely ought to go back to him in the very near future, especially if he sent the man from the Palace who wanted to give me a ‘message from his father’.
‘Tell me about Julia Terentia.’
‘She’s the one who got away from her mother. She found her own husband well, she’s done it twice.’
‘Someone told me she was an unpleasant woman.’ That had been Nothokleptes, not that I had taken his word.
‘She just speaks her mind freely,’ said Galeria; we nodded wisely.
Julia Terentia had inherited wealth from her first husband, for whom Niger had worked as a general negotiator. Terentia then remarried, to a sponger, Galeria called him, though he had not drained her resources entirely, as shown by the fact Terentia was still a regular benefactress to others. Her Saturnalia gifts to clients included the glass beakers I had already heard about. She also supported struggling relatives of her own.
‘Terentia has one sister who is married to a difficult man and has a terrible time. My Niger used to take money to them whenever Julia Terentia gave them a handout.’
‘Handouts to Julia Pomponia?’ I guessed. I was interested that the one who had run off with the hod-carrier was being helped by at least two of her sisters, Optata and Terentia. Were they all secretly banding together to defy their mother?
‘Yes. Pomponia’s husband works, but he gets in low company and drinks it all away. Every time Niger went there with a purse, he was supposed to warn them it was the last time.’