Jupiter, he looked different. Scorpus decided that some of the heavy expression was acting, in order to demoralise the suspect. Not all of it, mind. Talk about gaunt; talk about moody. Once, Vinius took care of himself physically, but now he had lost all his muscle tone.
Heavier these days, Scorpus had less hair but was still clipping it short. He was now chief investigator. The interrogation room had been swapped from the right to the left hand portico at the whim of the tribune, but they had moved the contents exactly: table, writing tools, officer’s seat, witness bench, map, nothing else to cloud the issue. Scorpus sat sideways to the door, the way Vinius had done. He, however, leaned back against the wall, with his boots on the table; that way, he could balance a scroll on his knees but whip it out of sight if the tribune strolled in when Scorpus was secretly reading an adventure novel.
Vinius had brought some frowsty businessman of the type Scorpus knew he loathed: pugnacious, oozing with cash that was probably ill-gained, flashing loud hand jewellery. At least seventy, he smelt of myrrh, garlic and unpleasant sexual habits.
Vinius shoved the man onto a stool. With their old teamwork, he and Scorpus settled either side so he could not see both simultaneously.
‘How’s life in the Praetorians?’ Scorpus asked Vinius, ignoring the suspect. Let him sweat.
‘I upped to the staff office.’
‘Sounds important! Top contacts?’ Scorpus, squinting at Orgilius, knew how to wind up pressure. ‘Thick with the Emperor?’
‘Oh best cronies!’
‘So what’s this bugger done?’
The ex-investigator clearly remembered how to insult witnesses: ‘He is a child-raping, slave-bribing, house-invading, wife-assaulting debauched pig.’
‘Nothing too bad then!’ Scorpus commented.
His manner bleak, Vinius started to interrogate Orgilius. ‘Your name is Orgilius. Ten years ago you were the paying paramour of Flavia Lachne, the mother of a young girl called Flavia Lucilla — Scorpus, you remember her.’ Scorpus had no idea what he was talking about. ‘Complainant. Poor little scared strip of a thing, all on her own, very immature for her age, which was about fifteen.’
‘She was just a slave,’ shrugged the suspect.
‘Wrong. She was a freedwoman’s free daughter. Unmarried — and there is absolutely no doubt that she had kept herself a virgin. Only a pervert would interfere with her.’
Orgilius protested, ‘She was over twelve!’ Twelve was the legal age of puberty and intercourse for girls.
‘Irrelevant,’ Vinius snapped. ‘Virgins and widows — the crime is stuprum. As censor-for-life, his favourite role of course, our beloved Emperor is very hot against stuprum. We cannot, in our civilised society, have respectable women interfered with by filth.’
Scorpus sucked air through his teeth. ‘Defilement? That’s nasty! Public crime. Comes under the Lex Julia on Adultery.’
‘Doesn’t every bloody thing?’ The Augustan laws on marriage, regenerated by Domitian, were a byword. ‘Do we still have the original case records?’
‘Unsolved rape of a virgin? Be in the archives,’ Scorpus lied. Over Orgilius’ head, he shot a look at the Praetorian, trying to rein him in, but Vinius remained unmoved. ‘Anyway, Flavia Lucilla can renew her statement — ’
‘Certainly not!’ Vinius was terse. ‘She won’t be put through that ordeal again. I myself will write up the charge for the Praetor, as her guardian.’ He added as an explanation, ‘I am connected with the family, known them for years.’ Both other men immediately assumed he slept with Lucilla. That, they could see, only made him more dangerous.
‘Respectable, you say?’ asked Scorpus, since the distinction mattered legally.
‘Oh give it up!’ whined Orgilius. ‘She’s just a bloody hairdresser.’
Vinius disagreed coldly: ‘Flavia Lucilla is a trusted servant of the imperial family. She tends Flavia Domitilla, and our August Empress, and she looked after the late, deified Julia. Any jury will warm to her reputation. She is a hardworking and popular young woman, whose integrity is widely admired.’
‘You obviously admire something!’ The businessman tried turning nasty himself: ‘You are not her bloody guardian. She is a married woman.’
‘Next charge!’ snarled Vinius. ‘Not content with ruining her childhood, Scorpus, I came across this piece of dirt attempting to rape her — in her own workplace, her safe haven. He can’t deny I witnessed the assault.’
‘Oho!’ Scorpus took out a notebook, then scribbled rapidly. ‘So once the husband hears this, the charge ratchets up to adultery-’
‘The husband is soggy seaweed,’ Vinius interrupted. ‘He won’t even use his right to beat the bastard up, or have him buggered by a bunch of slaves. But if he plays soft, we can charge Orgilius anyway then get the husband too-’
‘-For statutory pimping.’ Scorpus finished writing with a scratchy flourish. ‘The lovely “brothel-keeper” charge. Encouraging his wife to wander. I always enjoy that; scandal draws such a happy crowd in court! I hope you can afford a decent barrister,’ he told Orgilius. ‘We want a sensation, not a walkover.’
Vinius viciously grasped Orgilius by his left wrist. ‘Married yourself?’ He displayed a gold band that vied for attention on the wedding finger among shrieking gemstone signet rings; reluctantly the man assented. ‘And you’re loaded. Would that be your own money, or are you blessed with a rich wife?’
Scorpus joined in; he plucked at the luxurious nap of the suspect’s richly coloured tunic. ‘What are you? Seventies? Wrong time of life to give up your comforts, man. Your wife is not going to like this, not at all. If you’ve kept your habits secret, this will be a ghastly shock; more likely, she already knows, so a public revelation will be just the final straw. A wife can’t charge you with adultery, but she can ditch you, telling her reasons to everyone, and you’ll have to hand the dowry back, pronto. That’s normally the bit that hurts.’
Like all the landlords, thieves and arsonists that Gaius Vinius had reduced to water here in the past, Orgilius saw the game was up. ‘How much?’ he groaned. ‘How much to drop the charges?’
‘Not possible,’ sighed Scorpus. ‘Not for stuprum.’
‘I suppose it’s a domestic. They could settle out of court,’ Vinius speculated. The old colleagues were enjoying this. ‘Does the First still retain that pimply legal hack who knows the going rates for damages? Virginity must be sky-high.’
‘We use an informer,’ Scorpus confirmed. ‘He knows the value of everything; his livelihood depends on it. I’ll have to ask; I’ve no idea these days. We haven’t had a corrupted virgin in this office for absolutely ages.’
Probably never, and you know that, Gaius, my man!
I do; he doesn’t.
Vinius leaned down to Orgilius. ‘We live in a high moral climate.’
‘What?’
‘Domitian will jump on this. It’s not just informers looking for court pay-outs; Domitian wants the imperial share, to finance his building projects. You’re rich — so you’re good to prosecute. He’s fascinated by trials. I know all about it; the Guards have to escort him. He visits accusers, drops in at their homes the night before a trial, and nitpicks all the evidence with them, to ensure the correct verdict. This is the laudable side of our conduct-obsessed emperor. You are still foul, and Flavia Lucilla still looks like prey to you — but the ever-benevolent Germanicus, censor-for-life, has reasserted ancient rights for victims.’
Nothing was perfect. Without Vinius to defend her, she would have been just one more abused woman who suffered in silence. And Vinius was well aware that he had mixed motives. Even Scorpus suspected it. Orgilius was bloody certain. ‘What do I have to do then?’
Vinius helped himself to a note tablet. ‘I insist on disincentives. I can’t have you walking out of here, thinking you’ve got away with it.’ And planning to try again. ‘I shall make a witness statement, while you write a full confession. These documents will be locked in a vault — ’ What vault might that be? wondered Scorpus, as he gave Vinius another look that said he was going over the top — ‘guarantees of your good behaviour. As I said at the apartment, you are barred for life from ever approaching Flavia Lucilla.’