I shook my head, and placed a finger on my lips. ‘The cover is ivory, it will take no harm. And if I am careful, I will not scorch the wood. But see, the wax is already softening and I will be able to lift it from the frame.’ I took it carefully from the trivet as I spoke, burning my fingers a little with the heat. My method had been more effective than I hoped, and the wax was dripping of its own accord. I took up a knife and helped it on its way, then lifted the taper to look closely at the wooden backing frame. ‘Just as I thought. There are scratches visible. But in this light, it is impossible to see.’
Minimus grinned impishly at me. He kept his voice low, just as I had done. ‘If you rubbed it with black dust from the fire, it would get into the grooves and show the marks up more.’
He suited the action to the word and I saw that he was right. There were a lot of scratches, and at first it seemed a maze — fragments of numbers and disconnected words, each new message obscuring the one underneath. But when I risked a second taper and rubbed in more black dust, it was possible to convince myself that I could make out words.
‘“A S tomorrow”,’ I read aloud, ‘then something undecipherable, then the words “usual ajar”.’
Was that what it said? I stared at it. It made no kind of sense. It sounded like an invitation to a robbery. The statue possibly? That sounded plausible. And could the AS stand for Antoninus, in that case? Antoninus Seulonius — wasn’t that what Marcus had called him long ago?
‘Well done, Minimus,’ I murmured, and he preened.
He whispered back, ‘It’s something we used to do — Maximus and I — when we were small and wanted to pass messages between ourselves without the chief slave finding out. Just a piece of wood and a nail to scratch it with. Silly really, but we were not allowed to talk and we had to spend hours waiting to be called.’ He looked anxiously at me. ‘Have I atoned for dropping off to sleep?’
‘I suppose so,’ I said with a laugh. ‘But now go back to bed or you’ll be doing it again.’ I reached out and rubbed his tousled hair. ‘And I’ve enough troubles without that, Jove knows. You gave me quite a shock.’
He nodded ruefully and padded off. But it was true, I thought, as I blew the candles out and went back to lie down on my own bed again. For a dreadful moment, while he was slumped like that, I had seriously feared that he was dead. Perhaps it was because my mind was full of poisoning. Or he had reminded me of Antoninus at his desk. There had been something very similar. Almost as if he were. .
‘I wonder!’ I murmured to myself, recalling something that Redux had remarked. Well, that would have to wait until tomorrow too. And feeling that at least I had a path to follow now, I closed my eyes at last.
I woke to find Gwellia shaking me and thrusting a glass of water into my hand.
‘Wake up, husband. The carriage is here. Junio is waiting and it’s time to go. I’ll cut a piece of bread and cheese for you, and you can eat it on the way. Minimus will help you to put your toga on. I’ve given him the money for the carriage fare, but if you want any extra you’ll have to get it from the shop, because until I sell some eggs and cloth, that’s all the cash we have.’ Her voice trembled — just a little. ‘Send the boy home to let me know what happens, husband. And good luck!’
She kissed me as the boy deftly wrapped my toga round my form. Five minutes later, we were on our way.
Twenty-One
Redux was waiting for me at the city gates. He grinned at my evident surprise.
‘You weren’t expecting me? I said I would assist you, since it concerns me now.’ He was wearing a different tunic today, I noticed — this one had red and gold embroidered hems and he had topped off his toga with a Grecian coat to match, though he had plain, comfortable sandals on his feet. He fell into step beside us, and looked at Junio.
‘Junio, this is Redux,’ I explained. ‘Redux, meet my son. It’s kind of you to offer to assist, of course, but he’ll help me from now on.’
‘I already have.’ Redux was not to be deterred. ‘I went to see Gracchus, when you left last night. I have my suspicions, as I think I said, that he was one of Antoninus’s “special” customers. I thought it would be interesting to know what he got up to when his wedding was postponed.’
‘And what did you find out?’
He made a little face. ‘Proof that he couldn’t have killed Antoninus yesterday. When the wedding was cancelled he did not go home, except to take his wedding garments off, it appears. He went off with his friends and tried to drown his woes. He was in a tavern all the afternoon, betting on the dice — and there are half a dozen others who will swear to that.’
‘And have you tracked these people down, to check?’ It was Junio who asked.
Redux looked at him with a mixture of surprise and reluctant admiration on his face. ‘I spoke to two of them. They both told me the same. And so did the tavern keeper when I found the place. And I don’t think he’s mistaken: Gracchus couldn’t pay — lost too much on the game, so the fellow says — and there’s a tally of what’s owing scratched up on the wall. So Gracchus is accounted for.’
‘All the same,’ I said. ‘I’d like to speak to him. If you are serious in your desire to help, you could go and find him now. Ask him to meet me at Honorius’s house, in. . let me see — ’ I did a little calculation in my head, allowing time to get to the garrison by noon — ‘in perhaps an hour if he has a water clock, or in any case before the sun is halfway overhead. I think he’ll come, since he’s employing me.’ Redux looked affronted and I added with a smile. ‘You can come with him, and repeat what you’ve just said. It might serve to alter Helena Domna’s mind about his suitability as a match for Pompeia. I don’t think she approves of drunkenness and dice.’
‘In an hour then.’ Redux nodded and set off down the street, skirting the rubbish on the pavement with fastidious care.
‘So that is Redux,’ Junio said. ‘Intelligent, at least. And he must be wealthy, too. He must have spent a fortune on that red Grecian coat — though it’s a fashion more suitable for women I’d have thought. You can understand what his friend Zythos might have seen in him. But Zythos isn’t here, so I wonder who he is trying to impress. The commander possibly?’
I had a horrid suspicion that it might be me, but I suppressed the thought. ‘You seemed to doubt his story about Gracchus though?’
Junio looked thoughtful and then shook his head. ‘On the whole, I think it must be true. After all, a tavern is a public place, and if Gracchus spent time there, there will be witnesses. There’s no point in either of them lying about that. Besides, from what you told me yesterday, Redux may know the tavern keeper fairly well himself. Didn’t you say that he was fond of wine?’
‘That’s why I sent him to Gracchus’s again. I want you to go and see Vinerius and his wife. Tell them the same thing — that they are wanted at Honorius’s house, but let them think it’s Livia who has summoned them. I doubt that Vinerius would deign to come, if it was only me. Oh, and ask Maesta to bring her cures with her — anything that she’s provided to the womenfolk before.’
‘Where do I find Vinerius’s wine shop?’ he enquired. I gave him directions and he hurried off.
‘And me, master?’ Minimus piped up. He had been very quiet up to now.
‘You and I will go directly to the house. The back door for preference. I don’t want to be caught up in streams of visitors, coming to pay homage to the corpse — and I suppose that they’ll be lining up by now.’
They were, too. All the senior councillors that I’d seen yesterday, and a good few that I hadn’t: magistrates and senior tradesmen from the town, even the clerks from the basilica, all of them waiting to pay traditional respects. They would be shown in, I knew, to spend a few moments with the corpse — a few would utter a token wail or two — and then they would be ushered out and given fruit and wine, while another visitor would come and take their place. Not many of the waiting crowd were bearing gifts, I saw, though that was not uncommon when a wealthy man had died. This time however, there was no one to ‘impress’ (as Junio might have put it) since there were only females remaining in the family — and there are no business or political favours to be had from them.