‘When did he ask you this? Some time ago you said?’
Now the news was out, she had relaxed again. ‘Oh, years and years ago — when his last wife was alive. I think he found out that I’d been supplying her — all those wasted love potions which she’d paid me for — and he came to see me on his own account one night. Vinerius was very angry when he heard — he doesn’t really like me selling herbs at alclass="underline" says a proper Roman wife stays home and tends the house, though he is happy enough to see the money that I make from it. Honorius, in particular, paid very well indeed. He used the hemlock, but there was a problem with one of the subjects, I believe — a tax inspector for the Roman court — who did not die at once, but recovered and had to be thrown to the beasts. The poison should have worked — it was a massive dose — and at the time I could not account for it, but I have found a reason since. I understand that it is possible, if you take tiny doses of poisons every day, in time they will not harm you. You have heard of Mithradites — the ancient king of Pontus who invented mitraditium, the antidote to almost anything?’
I nodded. It was a famously ironic tale. ‘The one who drank small doses of poison every day, to prevent assassination by his enemies?’
‘Exactly, citizen, but it worked too well. And when he was taken prisoner, and tried to take his own life by poisoning himself, it didn’t kill him and he had to fall upon his sword.’ Maesta shook her head. ‘I explained it to Honorius, but I think he still blamed me. At all events, he never asked me for anything again.’
‘Who could have known what you’d supplied him with? Anyone in the household?’
She looked bewildered. ‘No one, I don’t think. Helena Domna didn’t live here at the time — she still lived with her brother, though she stayed here quite a lot; Livia, of course, wasn’t married to him then. His wife and daughters might have known, I suppose, but it was my impression that he kept it strictly to himself, and did not even tell the council what he’d done — as if he was ashamed of showing weakness with regard to punishment.’
‘But it was Helena Domna who employed you today?’ I said.
‘It was, but I suggested it myself — offered to bring something to calm Pompeia down and make her sleep.’ She gave that unexpected moaning wail of hers. ‘Vinerius was furious when he knew what I had done — while we were rushing home for me to pick up the remedy, he swore and blustered at me all the way. He says that my herbs bring suspicion on us both, and we’ll be lucky not to be dragged before the courts and put to death — especially if there turns out to be a problem with the wine that we supplied. He means it, too — told me to prepare a lethal dose for us in case. And of course I haven’t done it — I didn’t have the time before I came back here with this, and anyway I haven’t got the herbs in store that I could do it with.’ She seemed to have forgotten whom she was talking to, but now she pulled herself together and finished breathlessly, ‘Really, citizen, I have said too much. Vinerius always accuses me of gossiping. If I am not careful he will take a stick to me. I must get my money and go home as soon as possible.’
If I feared a beating when I got home, I thought, it was the last place that I would want to hurry to, but I am not a woman.
I said severely, ‘Very well. I have finished with questioning for now, but tell your husband I shall be calling at the wine shop very soon because I am looking into matters for the family.’ It was almost the truth, I told myself. Gracchus would be part of this household very soon. ‘In the meantime, Pulchra, you may announce us now. I believe your mistress is in the atrium? And I think my slave will be waiting for me there.’ I gestured to the door which opened from the atrium to the court and which had been closed off since the guests had gone. ‘And perhaps you could find out where Helena Domna is — Maesta and I both need to speak to her before we leave.’
Pulchra sketched a bob and scurried off, to come back an instant later. ‘I am wanted elsewhere in the house, but I am sent to tell you to come in.’ With that, she ushered us into the atrium. But it was not the lady Livia who was awaiting us.
‘Ah, there you are, citizens.’ It was Helena Domna, leaning on a stick and supervising the dozen or so slaves who were arranging wreaths and sweeping the ornamental floor where the wedding dais had stood, though that had been completely dismantled and removed. A purifying sacrifice was already being made on the household altar, by the look of it. The air was thick with the smell of burning herbs and a shapeless female servant was wailing on a lyre.
‘I’m afraid Livia has gone to light the candles round the corpse of my poor son. The funeral women will almost have finished by this time, with their washing and anointing rituals, and they will be bringing in the body for the lament to start. You have been a long time with Pompeia, both of you. Maesta, I am not altogether pleased. From your promise I expected swifter results. And as for you, citizen, I was about to send my page to fetch you back.’ She waved her free hand to waft the smoke away.
‘It appears that your granddaughter did nothing criminal, merely called upon the gods, and thought that she had somehow brought down a curse,’ I said. I was about to explain about the sleeping draught, but Helena Domna interrupted me.
‘Well, that is satisfactory — though there’s no time for details now. I am wanted elsewhere and, so it seems, are you. There has been a message for you. Your slave has taken it.’
‘For me?’ I was astonished.
By way of an answer, she gestured to the corner of the room, where Minimus was already scrambling to his feet. He had been resting on his haunches, in the way slaves do when they are engaged in that everlasting waiting which they seem to do. I sympathized — I have been a slave myself — but the boy was hastening over to apologize.
‘I am sorry, master, I did not see you come. There has been a note.’ He still had the silver platter in his hand. There was a folded writing tablet resting on it now, and Minimus offered it to me as he spoke, bowing very slightly as he presented it.
‘That’s a striking writing tablet,’ Helena Domna said. ‘I wonder where it’s from?’ It was indeed a very pretty thing, with ivory covers part inlaid with gold, and tied with a piece of finely woven silk. Her voice had taken a peculiar edge and I wondered if she hoped that I would make a gift of it.
However, I did nothing of the kind. I simply took the tablet and undid the ties, then read what had been scratched on the wax surfaces inside. ‘It is from that fellow Antoninus,’ I said. ‘Asking me to meet him at his apartment in the town. There is something of importance that he thinks I ought to know.’
‘“And which might be of profit to us both”,’ Helena Domna read, craning unashamedly to have a closer look.
Minimus had got that eager expression on his face. ‘So, master? Are we going there straight away?’
‘Around the ninth hour this afternoon, he says. That’s when the sun is halfway down.’ I handed him the writing tablet, which he slipped into a pouch inside his tunic top, while I did a little calculation. The hours were shorter at this season of the year — daylight was simply divided into twelve — but if we called on Antoninus at the suggested time there would still be almost three hours before they closed the gates. ‘We should just have time to get home without a long walk in the dark. Very well, we’ll go and see him, but we’ll visit Redux first.’
I looked around for Helena Domna to make my due farewells but she had turned away and was paying Maesta some money from her purse, so we waited until she’d finished before I took my leave.
Eleven
Minimus was almost hopping with excitement as the pageboy led us back down the passage and to the entrance. The prospect of helping me investigate this crime obviously thrilled him half to death.