The cheetah’s expression changed to suggest that, actually, a nice joint of Prefect was just what she fancied. Look how the black tip of my lovely long tail twitches in anticipation!
Macer, struggling to regain his composure, barked, ‘There’s no one else, I presume? We’re not waiting for a husband or something?’
Tulola smiled coyly. ‘Married? Me?’
‘Don’t be so modest, cousin.’ Pallas leaned back in his basketweave chair and crossed his arms. ‘Tell the Prefect about your dear old spouse.’
If looks could kill, Pallas would have been impaled by a thousand spears. ‘That marriage,’ Tulola spoke through clenched teeth, ‘was over years ago.’
‘We’re wasting time,’ Sergius said dismissively. ‘Oughtn’t we to move on to the peeping Tom?’
‘Peeping Tom, sir?’
If Macer was confused, it was nothing compared to what Claudia was feeling. What was he talking about? Had she missed something?
‘The dead man, of course.’ Sergius’ impatience was ill-concealed. ‘I want to find out who he is and let his family know what sort of scum he was.’
Macer pulled a loose thread of embroidery from his tunic. ‘May I ask what leads you to this conclusion, sir?’
It was Tulola who answered. ‘Me. Several times lately I’ve seen a face at my window.’
‘And you recognized this person as the deceased?’
‘By the time I reached the window, he’d vanished,’ Tulola replied.
‘That’s why I sent for you,’ Sergius explained. ‘I’d been increasingly concerned for my sister’s safety-you know how these perverts operate. Starts off with spying and escalates from there.’ He turned to Claudia and spread his hands apologetically. ‘In retrospect I should have brought the army in sooner, I didn’t realize how far things had gone. I really appreciate your staying on to give evidence.’
The room swam. Staying on? To give evidence? Gods-dammit, Sergius Pictor, you are one selfish, devious son-of-a-bitch. You stood by and let me think… ‘The pleasure is all mine, Sergius,’ she assured him through a mouth full of honey.
She realized, now, what he was up to. Those big beefy guards weren’t here to protect property. Their job was to ensure the performing animals remained a secret. Once someone had breached that security, and clearly the dung-beetle had, what better way to ensure Master Pictor wasn’t pipped to the post by poor imitations than broadcasting your copyright via the might of the Roman legions? No wonder you can afford marble on this scale.
Macer was holding up a restraining hand. ‘One moment. You’ve lost me, sir.’ He beckoned forward the little blonde girl. ‘Coronis, you’re on record as saying you saw-you actually witnessed-Mistress Seferius stab the deceased.’
‘Well…yeah. That’s what it looked like.’ Coronis stared vigorously at her feet. ‘At the time.’
The Prefect put an exploratory finger in his ear and examined the result. ‘Are you now retracting your statement?’
‘Re-?’
‘Disclaiming. Disowning. Withdrawing.’ Macer tutted impatiently. ‘You did not see the actual knife thrust?’
Corbulo leaned closer to whisper in Claudia’s ear, but she was too intent on Coronis’ testimony to hear what was said.
The girl had clenched her thumbs in her fists. ‘Well, I saw Miss Claudie and the dead bloke, I saw the knife sticking out’-a glance flickered across in Claudia’s direction-‘and since there weren’t no one else, what was I supposed to think?’
Frankly, Claudia couldn’t care what conclusions the silly cow had drawn. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she was happily planning revenge on Sergius Pictor. Should that involve regular consignments of Seferius wine, so much the better-sales were abysmal since her husband had died.
‘Prefect, we’re getting off the track.’ Sergius waved his hand from side to side. ‘It’s obvious this pervert had taken his filthy game one step further and either it was an accident, the door slamming on to him, or else, caught red-handed, he took the coward’s way out.’
Possibly. I mean if you were intending to rape a helpless victim at knife point, you would be carrying the weapon with the blade pointed towards you, wouldn’t you? Still, if Macer didn’t pick it up, Claudia had no intention of drawing his attention to the anomaly. He was still addressing the slave girl.
‘Who else was sleeping in the guest wing apart from Mistress Seferius?’
‘Only me, I’m afraid.’ Pallas saved her the bother of answering. ‘And I plead not guilty.’
‘That’s right,’ Sergius said. ‘We all heard screams and came running.’
‘Hmm.’ Macer tapped his lip thoughtfully. ‘Mistress Seferius, in your own words, how would you describe the deceased?’
‘A sleazeball.’
‘You knew him?’
‘I know his type.’
Macer considered carefully before laying himself open twice. ‘I was rather hoping you could give us a physical description. You see, most of the group gathered this morning haven’t seen the body. Your description might trigger a memory.’
In a word, seedy. ‘Medium height, heavy, balding, spongy nose, pouches under his eyes, yellow teeth. Oh, I nearly forgot. He also had a very large belly with a knife in it.’
The Prefect nearly laughed with the rest of them. ‘That’s a pretty detailed description.’
‘We shared a pretty intimate embrace.’
‘Distressing, I’m sure.’ His gaze swept round the room. ‘Your bodyguard. Where is he?’
Junius? Dear Diana, she hadn’t even noticed he was missing. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning… ‘He’s running an errand.’
‘Oh?’
Think! Think! ‘I asked him to return to the gig and search for my earring. Present from my late husband. Sentimental value. Very precious.’ Wasn’t it warm in here?
‘You appear to be wearing two at the moment.’
‘Silly me.’ Claudia patted one of the studs. ‘I had it all along.’ Junius, you low-down son-of-a-snake, I’ll roast your gizzard for this.
Sergius’ eyes narrowed. ‘Prefect, you will be investigating Claudia’s accident, won’t you?’
‘Naturally.’ Macer seemed less than pleased with the insinuation. ‘Perhaps you can tell us exactly what happened, Mistress Seferius?’
Claudia’s blood turned to steam just thinking about it. ‘We were,’ she pointed south, ‘about two and a half hours out of Tarsulae. The fog was thick, but with the road deserted, we were still making reasonable time when half-a-dozen riders came up, blasting on trumpets and banging drums. The mares bolted and-’
‘Talking of mares, Barea reports one missing from the stables. Do you know anything about that?’
Try Pallas, he probably ate it. ‘Are you accusing me of kidnapping a horse, Prefect?’
A titter ran round the room.
‘No, no, I think we’d have noticed. Are you able to describe your attackers?’
Am I! ‘One was bug-eyed, another had a birthmark on his face about here,’ she indicated her right cheekbone, ‘and a third had ginger hair.’
‘I congratulate your memory for faces, Mistress Seferius. You, sir, can you add anything to those descriptions?’
‘Me?’ The driver looked up sharply. ‘I didn’t hardly see them, not to speak of. Me mares was bucking like crazy and I could barely see the frigging road as it was.’
‘You’re not the lady’s regular driver?’
‘No, sir. I’m new at the stand.’
Macer tweaked the lace of his leather corselet. ‘Was there much damage to your rig?’
‘Complete write-off. One of me mares was killed outright, the other broke her neck and Master Pictor here helped me cut her throat, she-’
‘Didn’t anybody stop to render assistance?’
‘Like milady says, it’s only local traffic, innit? We didn’t see no one.’
‘Yet it was Mistress Seferius here-a noblewoman, no less-who set off alone to fetch help. Why didn’t her bodyguard go? Why, for that matter, didn’t you?’
The driver shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘Well, young Junius was out cold, see, and-’
‘Yes?’
‘Well-’