‘She may have employed him a day or two ago. To represent the soup seller’s wife and bring the case against me in the courts.’ I exchanged looks with my patron as I spoke. ‘I’m very lucky he did not succeed.’
‘But why would she do a thing like that?’ The optio was appalled. ‘Unless the woman came to her for help. Lyra is soft-hearted when it comes to things like that.’
‘Well, here is Junio with the tray,’ I said. ‘Let’s ask her. She can answer that herself.’
‘But surely, now that I’ve explained, you won’t need to question her again?’ He was almost pathetic in his anxiety for her.
‘There is still the question of the property.’
His face cleared. ‘Oh, of course. But we have found out now who Nyros is. Is it necessary to ask her any more?’
Marcus placed a hand upon his arm. ‘Libertus clearly thinks so. And I for one would like to know where she’d disappeared to when we wanted her.’
‘And what she knows of Gaius Plautus,’ Gwellia said. She had been standing by discreetly, as becomes a wife, but she had been listening and now she intervened.
‘Gaius Plautus?’ Optimus sounded as astonished as he looked. ‘The man from Glevum you thought you saw in town the other day? How could she know anything of him?’
‘That is exactly what I’m hoping to find out,’ I said.
Chapter Twenty-five
Lyra was to be questioned in the optio’s rooms, where we had spoken with Lucidus earlier. Optimus dispatched his slave to have her fetched down, under guard, and he and Marcus went to wait for her.
I lingered for a moment, under the pretence of saying goodnight to my weary wife. I got Junio to assist her with her shoes and help her settle on the bed, while I relieved him of the tray. I put it on the table and poured a little of the wine into the cup he’d brought. ‘Do you think she’ll marry him?’ I asked my wife.
‘That woman who was here before? Of course she won’t. She sees him as an easy target for her wiles — no doubt he pays her handsomely enough.’ She pulled the cover over her and laughed. ‘He may be an expert with a parry-shield, but he’s no match for her. She got under his defences easily enough.’
I went to her and kissed her. ‘Just as you got under mine,’ I said. ‘Now go to sleep. We’re due to go to Isca at first light — though much depends on what we learn from Lyra. I’ll see you later, when I come to bed. Are you content to stay here on your own, or shall I leave Junio with you?’
I asked because the boy was at the door, obviously anxious to accompany me. She smiled. ‘If it’s not safe here, in a mansio, it’s not safe anywhere. There are soldiers here to guard me as I sleep. You take the boy. It’s clear he wants to go.’
I nodded, and picked up the taper from the bench, leaving Gwellia only the torchlight from the hall. It was quite dark now, and we would be glad of the glow to show our way. Junio picked up the tray again, and we tiptoed out, but Gwellia was asleep before we reached the door.
‘Master,’ Junio whispered as we crossed the court. ‘You have put very little wine into that cup. It is half full, if that. Do you want me to go back for the jug?’
‘I only want a little,’ I explained. ‘I hope it is enough. You’ll see why in a minute. Tell me, though, while we have a chance to talk alone. Gwellia says you went to Plautus’s house. Did you learn anything useful from his slaves?’
He gave a rueful sigh and shook his head. ‘Not very much. I’m sorry, master, but it didn’t happen there. It happened at his country villa, it appears — and none of the household staff were there.’
‘What exactly happened?’ We had halted in the shadows of the court.
‘Why, the accident.’ He stared at me. I’d forgotten that he didn’t know the truth.
‘Only there wasn’t one,’ I muttered hastily. ‘The man is still alive — I’ve seen him recently.’
‘No accident?’ he repeated, stupefied.
‘There might have been,’ I said. ‘Only it wasn’t Plautus who was crushed. Now, quickly, because we don’t have much time. Do you have any notion what led up to it?’ I held the taper up to see his face.
He shrugged. ‘It’s all a trifle hazy, I’m afraid. Plautus went out on business as usual that afternoon, it seems — some wealthy Roman who turned up at the house and insisted that he had to talk to him — something about shipping olive oil, I think. Gaius Plautus had a ship in port, and he volunteered to take the man to see.’ He paused. ‘Is this the sort of thing you want to know?’
I nodded. ‘Go on. Everything you know.’
‘It must have been a profitable deal, because a little afterwards he came back home, and said that he and his ship-master were going out to dine to celebrate, and then he planned to take him out to see their country house and show off the extension he was having built. He could afford a finer building now, he said, and he wanted to look at it tonight so he could discuss the changes that he had in mind with his master architect before the men came in and started work next day. He was obviously excited, or a little drunk, they said. His wife was unwilling to agree to it — it was far too late to ride out there, she said, even with a hired vehicle — but he was adamant. You couldn’t argue with him when he got like that.’
‘And?’ I prompted.
‘It seems they went — there are lots of witnesses to that. The two men dined together at the oil-guild club and then they hired a cart. They took some pottery with them that they’d shipped in from Gaul, and got the driver to assist them to put it in the house. Plautus had a page with him, but he was very young and not especially strong, so they left him to watch the horse and the cart. They went out in the garden — all three of them. The driver was asked to bring his brand to light the way, and Plautus lit a travelling oil lamp from the flame. There was a new wall there, apparently, and a pile of stones — Plautus commented that it was dangerous. They went back to the carriage, but he changed his mind and went back alone with the lamp to have another look. He was gone for simply ages — so the driver said — and in the end they went to have a look. They found his corpse — or somebody’s — right underneath the wall, as if the stones had all collapsed on it. The boat-master sent the others off for help, and that is all I know. They pressed the page-boy and the driver afterwards — literally pressed them, with stones on the chest — but all the stories tallied perfectly.’
‘So if some enemy had been waiting in the house,’ I said, ‘Plautus might have killed him and had time to disappear.’
Junio looked doubtful. ‘I suppose so. I hadn’t thought of that. What makes you think that might have been the case?’
‘I think he might have got himself mixed up in something dangerous,’ I said. ‘Plautus was not the only Silurian Roman citizen to disappear at that time. There was a man called Claudinus as well, who went to Glevum round about then and has not been heard of since. It is known that he was seeking to take a ship to Gaul — an olive-oil ship was mentioned, I understand. He had vital information about the rebels here — something that would crush them utterly — and I believe that they were on his track. Suppose he was Plautus’s visitor? It would make a kind of sense. Plautus could help him to get passage on the ship — he may have been offered a handsome bribe, which would explain the unexpected wealth — but Claudinus was being followed, I am sure of that. Once Plautus was involved with him, he was in danger too — and if he talked publicly of going out to his country house that night, it would not be difficult to lie in wait.’
‘So Plautus killed his would-be murderer and pulled the wall on him — crushing the body to disguise the face? I suppose that might be possible, though he wouldn’t have much time. The others were still waiting in the cart.’
I’d thought of that. ‘They were all his servants, weren’t they, in some capacity? They wouldn’t dare to come till they were called, or at least till they were seriously alarmed.’
‘But why do it anyway? Why not go back to them and say he’d been attacked?’