‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ Antonia said with sincerity. ‘I know how much this goes against everything that you have been brought up to believe in but I would not ask this of you if I could see any other way.’
Vespasian and Corbulo looked at each other and gave mirthless smiles; they both knew that they had volunteered to do something that they would never be able to forgive themselves for.
Asiaticus cleared his throat; uncomfortable with what had just been decided, but nevertheless understanding that it was the only possible course of action, he brought the conversation back to the practicalities of the matter. ‘So how do we achieve this if we assume that to do it in his own house would be nigh on impossible?’
‘Poison wouldn’t work,’ Antonia stated, ‘it would take too long to administer small quantities to make it look like he was dying of a wasting disease, and anyway how would you get access to his food on a regular basis?’
There was a silence as everyone around the table tried to work out how to murder somebody and make it look like a natural death if they were not in their own bed or sitting at their study table or similar.
The silence was eventually broken by Pallas from his position by the door. ‘May I be of assistance, domina?’
Antonia looked up. ‘No doubt you have some of your valuable observations to make, Pallas; they are always a pleasure to hear, so, please, come to our aid.’
The steward stepped forward into the light. ‘You are kind, domina. I have only one observation to make and that is: to achieve this thing convincingly it has to be done in private but the body must be found in public. Now if we rule out killing Poppaeus in his own home we have to find another private place in which to do it. Where else in Rome does Poppaeus go? The Senate, the baths, the law courts, his friends’ houses for dinner? None of these are private. He would never accept an invitation from you, domina, nor would it be seemly if this act were perpetrated in the house of the Senior Consul — that would be taking dishonour too far.’
Asiaticus nodded his agreement. ‘We would be trying the gods’ patience if we were to sully the office of the senior magistrate in Rome with low murder.’
‘Indeed,’ Pallas agreed. ‘So the only time in the near future that I can envisage Poppaeus needing to be in private is when he’s doing a secret deal.’
‘Exchanging the deeds for the debt marker at Claudius’ house,’ Vespasian exclaimed. ‘Of course! But that would mean that Claudius and Narcissus would both have to be party to the plan.’
‘I don’t think that’ll be a problem,’ Antonia said, ‘it comes down to money. If we wait until after the exchange has been made, I’m sure that both my son and his oily freedman will be only too pleased either to help or at least turn a blind eye, as they will end up with not only a signed-off debt marker but they’ll also still be in possession of the deeds to those seven estates. That should be inducement enough and it also furthers my purposes: it will give Claudius the extra income that he will need should I decide that it would be better for Rome for him to become the next Emperor.’
‘And might you decide that, Lady?’ Asiaticus enquired, raising his eyebrows.
‘It depends on how my little Gaius behaves himself in the next few months; but if I were you, Asiaticus, I would keep up my friendship with that idiot son of mine.’
‘Oh, I intend to,’ the Consul replied with a conspiratorial smile.
Antonia turned her attention back to her steward. ‘Thank you for that timely observation, Pallas. Now that you’ve enlightened us on where to do it, do you have an observation on how it might be done?’
‘I’m afraid not, domina,’ Pallas replied apologetically, ‘but I have an idea who might be able to help us with that delicate matter, bearing in mind the mysterious demise of one of the aediles last year. Shall I ask Magnus to come in?’
Antonia raised her eyebrows. ‘I think that that’s an excellent idea.’
Magnus’ eyes flicked nervously around the room. ‘I ain’t sure that I understand exactly what you mean, domina.’ He shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden stool placed at the open end of the dining table.
‘Don’t play coy with me, Magnus,’ Antonia ordered, ‘it’s a simple question, and I’m sure that you know the answer.’
‘Well, there is one way; not that I ever tried it, but I heard about it from an acquaintance,’ he admitted. ‘Who I don’t know any more; never really did, if you take my meaning?’ he added quickly, glancing uneasily at the Senior Consul.
‘It’s all right, Magnus,’ Antonia reassured him, ‘the Senior Consul is here to gain the benefit of your wisdom, not to judge you.’
‘If you’re the same Magnus who leads the South Quirinal Brotherhood,’ Asiaticus added, ‘and if you’re worried about the, shall we say, “natural” death of the aedile for that district last year, then don’t be. Senator Pollo has completely convinced the Urban Prefect that you had nothing to do with it and it’s quite normal for a healthy young man to be found dead in the street with no wounds or bruising on him whatsoever. However, I would be interested to know how it was done, so please, enlighten us.’
Magnus looked relieved. ‘Well, it’s quite simple really: you drown the man by forcing his head into a barrel of water, taking care not to get any bruising around the throat or chest as you hold him under. It’s best to strip him first so that his clothes don’t get torn or wet. Then you hang him upside down — put a blanket around his ankles so that the rope doesn’t mark the skin — and pump his chest until all the water is out — but you must wait a little while before you do that as they can come back to life. Then take him down, rub his hair dry and dress him and there you go, one unmarked dead person. Oh, and when you hang him up it’s best to do it in front of a large fire so as to keep him warm, if you want the body to be found quickly, that is.’
‘Thank you, Magnus,’ Antonia said, looking at him with a glint in her eye that Vespasian knew was more than just an appreciation of his knowledge.
‘There is another way,’ Magnus offered, warming to the theme, ‘but that involves sticking a funnel up his-’
‘That will do, Magnus; I think we have a workable solution. That’ll be all — for now.’
‘Yes, domina,’ Magnus mumbled, leaving the room. Vespasian guessed that he would be unable to take advantage of the frenzied female slaves celebrating the Caprotinia that evening.
‘Now, gentlemen,’ Antonia said as the door closed, ‘Poppaeus is dead, so how and where do we have this unfortunate occurrence discovered?’
‘If I may, domina?’ Pallas offered.
‘I was hoping you would, Pallas,’ Antonia said with a smile.
‘Poppaeus generally walks with a stick and considers it beneath his dignitas to go anywhere in Rome unless he is carried in a litter, in which he will undoubtedly arrive at Claudius’ house. We will need to get the body back in there and have the litter-bearers take him to the Forum where, I would suggest, the Senior Consul could waylay him and, pulling back the curtains, discover to his consternation that the good man has sadly passed away.’
Asiaticus laughed. ‘A more public discovery would be hard to engineer. That’s very good and I will be only too happy to play my part.’
‘But how do we get the body back in the litter so it seems to the bearers that their master is alive and it’s him that gives them the order to go to the Forum?’ Vespasian asked.
‘We will create the illusion that he is still alive.’
‘But how?’
‘Leave that to me, Vespasian; it won’t be as hard as you might think,’ Pallas assured him. ‘But I will need you to leave the chest here.’
‘Well, gentlemen, I think our business is concluded,’ Antonia said with an air of finality. ‘I thank you for your time. Consul, would you mind a private word?’
‘Of course, domina.’
‘Thank you. Vespasian and Corbulo, tomorrow morning Pallas and I will visit my drooling son and his odious freedman to make the arrangements and to inform them of the consequences of not complying with my wishes; you will join us there at the second hour.’