As they passed the table Pallas picked up Poppaeus’ walking stick and propped it up against the chair that he had sat in.
‘B-but my dear Poppaeus,’ Claudius almost shouted as they entered the atrium, ‘I can see no reason for me to support young Lucianus, he’s a b-b-buffoon.’
Pallas burst into laughter and Vespasian followed his lead. Corbulo’s aristocratic reserve held rigid and he remained silent.
‘Oh, well said, Poppaeus,’ Pallas guffawed, ‘you are so right.’
‘Will you support my brother this year in the praetor elections, Poppaeus?’ Vespasian asked, getting into the spirit of the ruse.
‘His brother is another buffoon, don’t you think, P-P-Poppaeus?’
They all gave another burst of laughter as they passed the impluvium.
‘I would be honoured if you would support me this year, Poppaeus,’ Corbulo blurted as Vespasian heard Narcissus’ study door open.
‘I missed that, Poppaeus,’ Pallas said, ‘what did you say?’ He gave another burst of laughter to cover the missing reply. ‘You are truly the wisest man in Rome, Poppaeus, it has been an honour to meet you.’
They passed through the vestibule and out through the open front door into the street with another round of laughter. Vespasian looked behind and saw Kosmas scurrying to catch up, clutching the real chest.
‘P-P-Poppaeus, it’s been a pleasure d-doing business,’ Claudius said as they walked down the steps in a tight group towards the waiting litter; Magnus stood blocking the line of sight of the rear nearside bearer. ‘I shall see you in the Forum presently.’
‘Allow me to help you in, Poppaeus,’ Pallas said, nodding at Magnus who pulled the curtain slightly open. Pallas took it with his left hand and passed his right hand up along the inside as if a head were rubbing against it as Kosmas came racing down the steps; Narcissus followed just behind him.
‘Your stick, Poppaeus? Of course I’ll send Kosmas back for it. Kosmas, your master has left his stick in the garden,’ Pallas said, letting the curtain go and turning to the secretary. ‘Here, let me help you while you go and fetch it.’ He took the chest under one arm and opened the curtain again, exposing Poppaeus’ legs for the secretary to see and placed the chest next to them as Narcissus walked around to the other side of the litter.
‘Quickly, Kosmas,’ Vespasian snapped, ‘Poppaeus is in a hurry, he has an urgent appointment in the Forum.’
‘I didn’t know about that,’ Kosmas said, looking confused.
Pallas stuck his head into the litter. ‘Of course, Poppaeus, I’ll tell him,’ Pallas said, reappearing. ‘The Forum Romanum, by the Rostra, as fast as possible,’ he ordered the bearers before turning to Kosmas. ‘He says to meet him there with his stick.’
Kosmas shrugged and hurried back inside as the litter was lifted and moved quickly off down the street exposing Narcissus, on the far side, standing with his back towards the house. Vespasian and Corbulo’s eyes widened in astonishment as he turned to face them; he was holding Capella’s chest.
‘Quick, take this around the back,’ Narcissus said as he handed the chest to Magnus, ‘we wouldn’t want our friend Kosmas to see it as he comes back out.’
Magnus had just enough time to clear around the corner as Kosmas came scuttling back out with Poppaeus’ stick.
‘Master,’ Narcissus cried, putting his hand to his forehead, ‘your book!’
‘Of course, Narcissus, thank you; where would I be without you?’ Claudius responded with equal melodrama. ‘Kosmas, wait a few moments while I find the first four volumes of my History of the Etruscans that I’d promised to lend your master.’
The hapless secretary glanced down the empty street and then back at Claudius who was already walking back inside with Narcissus; his shoulders drooped and he trudged back up the steps.
Vespasian had to suppress an amused grin at the way he had been played. ‘He won’t be able to swear to anything other than Poppaeus left in a rush and had him running back and forth for everything that he’d forgotten,’ he observed.
‘That was the objective,’ Pallas said, ‘but his part’s not over yet; Claudius and Narcissus will delay him a while longer and then we’ll follow him down to the Forum and watch him react to Poppaeus being found dead.’
‘Wouldn’t the bearers have seen Narcissus take the chest from the other side of the litter?’ Corbulo asked, still in a slight daze from the fast moving events.
‘Only the man on the far side at the back could have seen it but Narcissus reached in as they bent to pick up the litter and always kept his back to that bearer. Anyway, no questions should be asked about the chest as the false one will be found along with the dead Poppaeus in the litter.’
Kosmas’ arrival with Narcissus cut short their conversation.
‘My dear Kosmas,’ Narcissus crooned, placing a pudgy arm around the wiry secretary’s shoulders, ‘it has been a pleasure seeing you again. We secretaries should get together more often.’
‘Yes, thank you, Narcissus, we should. I must hurry.’
‘Of course you must. I shall see you soon.’
Kosmas bowed his head to Vespasian, Corbulo and Pallas and hurried off down the street with his master’s stick and four cylindrical, leather book containers stuffed into his bag.
‘We’ll follow him, Narcissus,’ Pallas said as the secretary disappeared around the corner, ‘and make sure that Asiaticus does his bit.’
‘We’ll meet tomorrow, Pallas. Gentlemen, farewell.’
As Vespasian turned to go he felt Narcissus’ hand touch his shoulder. ‘By the way, Vespasian,’ Narcissus whispered in his ear, ‘if you’re thinking of paying a visit to the Cloelius brothers while you’re in the Forum you’d be wasting your time; I had that bankers’ draft cancelled with them.’
Vespasian spun around and glared at him.
Narcissus grinned mirthlessly. ‘Your expression tells me that I was right to do so. However, as I am in your debt on two accounts now, I have neglected to cancel it with Thales in Alexandria. If you ever manage to get permission to visit there, which I doubt, it’s yours. I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you to misappropriate my master’s money, would I?’
CHAPTER XII
Vespasian was silent as they tracked Kosmas down the Esquiline towards the Forum, keeping the secretary in view as he gradually gained on his master’s litter. He contemplated the dignity with which Poppaeus had met his death and the motives that had caused him to become Antonia’s enemy. He could not help but feel that Poppaeus had been right: the Julio-Claudian family was utterly unsuitable to rule. Denuded of its brightest talents through years of intrigue and poisonings, its male line was now reduced to a rump consisting of: Tiberius, a sexually depraved, mad old man; Claudius, a stuttering, power-hungry mediocrity; Vespasian’s friend Caligula, an incestuous hedonist; and Gemellus, a young lad of no consequence whose only interesting feature was the speculation surrounding him as to which of his relatives would eventually murder him. And then there was Antonia, that brilliant political strategist; her ruthlessness in dealing with any threat to her family’s position he had at one time, through the idealism of youth, mistaken for a high-principled defence of legitimate Roman government. But now, older and more jaded, he was beginning to see her for what she really was: a vicious gang-leader who would stop at nothing to maintain her power. He had made a choice as a callow youth and now he was stuck in Antonia’s world as a very minor member of her gang. His grandmother had been so right all those years ago when she had warned him ‘that the side that seems to serve Rome may not always be the most honourable’. But surely that must soon change; surely, with the murder of so many of the family, the bloodline of the Julio-Claudians must soon expire? Perhaps this, then, would be the new age that the Phoenix heralded: an age where Rome was ruled with honour through merit and not through tainted blood. But then, he reflected, if he was destined to play a part in this new age of honour, how could he now, guilty as he was of despicable and dishonourable murder?