‘It must have been convenient for a lovers’ tryst,’ I said. ‘The house was next door to an inn, and Honoria’s bedroom looked out on a tree. Zythos was young and vigorous — it was not hard to climb — once he had let himself into the grounds. And you left the shutters open, by arrangement too, so that he could come and find you in the room.’
Livia let out a tiny sound, but went on staring blankly at the wall.
‘Only, on that fatal night,’ I went on mercilessly, ‘it all went wrong. Honoria had announced that she was with child again, and this time she did not offer you her room. So when Zythos entered for a night of love, it wasn’t you he found. What happened, Livia? She cried out, I suppose? Why else would your husband have burst into her room? She screamed her innocence, but he killed them both. The deaths must have been on your conscience ever since.’
Pulchra stepped forward from behind the couch and put a hand upon her mistress’s arm. ‘What nonsense, mistress. Take no notice of the man. Of course you would never have done anything like that.’
‘But Pulchra, you were in a private cubicle in the servants’ quarters of the house,’ I said. ‘You told me so yourself. How can you be certain what she did or didn’t do?’
Pulchra turned crimson and stepped back again. ‘I know my mistress, that’s all I can say. Anyway, it’s only guesswork. Where’s your evidence?’
‘Antoninus had it, but I have it here.’ I reached into my pouch and took out the writing tablet in its pretty case. ‘This is your writing tablet, madam, I believe. There was a message scrawled upon it, in such haste that the stylus went right through and scratched the wooden frame. The marks had been covered with a layer of fresh wax, but when that was melted it showed up again.’
I held it out to Livia but she looked away. ‘I have told you, I don’t believe that is my writing block at all. Pulchra will tell you, the one I had was lost.’
‘On the way to visit relatives, you said. What relatives were these? You had no family of your own, I think. It was your stepdaughter and her husband you were going to see. “A.S.” Can you see it, madam? You wrote that, I think. A.S. Not Antoninus Seulonius as I thought at first, but Aqua Sulis — where you hoped to be. And that makes sense of the other scratches, too. “Tomorrow. Usual. . ajar.” It was a message to Zythos, wasn’t it? You could not give it to a messenger openly, as you might otherwise have done, because Honorius was riding in the coach with you. So you had to send it in secret and pretend the block was lost.’
Redux was looking with fascination at the block. ‘And I saw Zythos with it — but he wouldn’t let me look at what was scratched on it. He laughed at me and hid it in the folds of his toga. It was the last time I ever set eyes on him in fact.’ He had been sounding mournful, but he sat up suddenly. ‘But how did Antoninus lay his hands on it?’
Livia let out a little moan again. ‘That doorkeeper again. It must have been. When Zythos sent me a reply on it.’
Junio nodded, quite excited now. ‘And then Antoninus saw the scratches and worked out what they meant — and he has been blackmailing Livia ever since.’ He stopped. ‘But why should she suddenly kill him in that case? And why kill her husband? That makes no sense at all.’ He sat back to permit the steward to come in, pick up the drinking cups and fill them from the wine crater that he’d brought in with him.
‘It’s because she’s carrying that wretched Greek man’s child!’ It was Helena Domna, with a sudden energy. ‘He was always round here — courting Pompeia they said — and therefore invited as a dinner guest. Yet looking back it was clearly Livia that he’d come to see. I don’t know why I didn’t spot it at the time. But if that is his child that she is carrying, then it is just as well that Honorius is dead. He would have killed her for dishonouring the family otherwise.’
‘Precisely so, Helena Domna,’ I said carefully. ‘Or if he didn’t kill her, he’d have divorced her and sent her away. And that would have left her penniless, of course. Her dowry would be forfeit if he proved unfaithfulness. She couldn’t even hope to inherit when he died — Honorius had already shown that he had no sentiment, and would disinherit anyone who strayed — and their descendants, too. Neither Livia nor the child could have hoped for anything.’
‘What makes you assume that this is not my husband’s child?’ Livia was shaking with emotion as she spoke. ‘That is mere conjecture on your part, and it is libellous. It was said in front of several Roman citizens as well. When the funeral is over, and the will is read, I shall sue you for injuria, pavement-maker — see if I do not. And I did not kill my husband, if that’s what you imply.’
‘But you had the means to do so, didn’t you?’ I said. ‘You knew Honoria’s mother had left a poison phial behind. And on the morning of the wedding it would not have been hard to slip the contents into the watered wine that you yourself had sipped — to take away the taste of Maesta’s morning sickness cure — and persuade Honorius to take a drink of it. And if it tasted a bit peculiar — which it might have done — it was no great step for you to urge him to test the wedding wine. After which, of course, attention was wholly drawn to that wine. Fortunate that the diluted dosage took a little time to work.’
‘It’s all lies and conjecture. I deny it all.’ Livia looked round wildly, but there was no escape. She was effectively imprisoned in her place. The central table was in front of her, and the two couches that we others sat on barred the route on either side. She sank back despondently on to her couch again, and added in a bitter and reproachful tone, ‘Citizen Libertus, I am surprised at you. I did my best to help you when you were in trouble yesterday, but you repay me by alleging that I killed Honorius. And what about Antoninus? Are you going to claim that I murdered him as well?’ She seized the drinking cup and drank it at a gulp.
‘You certainly had a motive for wishing he was dead. And you felt yourself in sudden danger the other day, of course, when Antoninus came to see your husband late at night. By your own admission you listened at the door — but you told me that it was very difficult to hear. I think you heard the name of Zythos mentioned several times. You didn’t know about the stolen statue of Minerva, then, and you thought that Antoninus had betrayed your love affair. Pulchra, didn’t she come and tell you something of the kind?’
Pulchra had turned pink about the ears. ‘Well, I can’t deny it, citizen. She was so upset, poor lamb, she hardly closed her eyes and slept a wink all night. If I’d had Maesta’s sleeping potion then, I would have given it to her.’
‘Instead of to Antoninus, as you actually did?’
The whole room had turned silent and was looking at me now.
Pulchra glanced about her. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Of course you do. It was a clever plan. You didn’t have the poison, you’d already used that up. You gave it to Honorius that morning, didn’t you? I don’t know whether Livia knew what you had done, but you got that poison from Pompeia’s room — not hard to do when you are packing up her things — and put it into that jug of watered wine, after your mistress had sipped it and pronounced it odd, of course. It did occur to me to think of this before, but you assured me then that you’d tasted it yourself. But of course you hadn’t — I had just your word for that.’
There was a sudden scuffle from behind the chair as Pulchra tried to make a run for it. Redux and Gracchus jumped up as one man, seized her bodily and pinned her to the wall.
‘So you admit it?’ Helena Domna cried. ‘Wretched woman. I’ll have you flayed for this.’
‘Pulchra?’ Livia’s voice was almost a childish tearful cry. ‘Why did you do it? I told you it was mad.’ She turned to me. ‘It’s my fault, citizen. I was the one who told her about the poison phial. I heard about it from Honoria — and of course I told the maid, as I told her nearly everything. Have mercy, citizen. She used it, not from malice, but to save me from disgrace, and poverty and divorce, or — worse — from sharing Honoria’s awful fate. I always said that Pulchra would protect me with her life.’