A Coin for the Ferryman (34 page)

I thought about that dreadful mutilated corpse. That, surely, was what she had been prevented from looking at? ‘And what did her companion have to say to that?’

‘He got quite cross with her and told her not to talk. Said they had to hurry, because the cart was up ahead and they had a lot of things to do before they caught it up. That made her giggle – I wondered what he meant.’ He cocked an eye at me. ‘She was a bit given to that sort of thing, if you know what I mean. Didn’t have much affection from her father, I suppose, and wanted to find it any way she could. I didn’t mind her, though she wasn’t very bright – though I wouldn’t have liked my sons to want to marry her.’

‘And you are sure she wasn’t carrying a bundle at the time?’

‘Positive! The fellow had a sack behind him on the horse, an enormous one all tied up with a string – but there was nothing in it. I asked where they were heading, but he didn’t answer me, just turned and galloped off. Morella was clinging on for dear life all the time, and laughing like an idiot – that’s the last I saw of her.’

‘You’d be prepared to swear this, if I asked it? You can’t hurt Morella – I’m afraid she’s dead. I’m just anxious to bring the murderer to account for her death.’

His face had fallen. ‘Dead? You’re sure of that? But she seemed so jubilant . . .’

‘Then remember her like that. It may have been the happiest moment of her life. But your story – I can rely on you for that?’

He nodded glumly. ‘If you have to, I suppose. I’ll have her father setting that wretched dog on me and claiming that I ought to have said something earlier. I did give him the message, but he didn’t seem to care. More worried that he’d lose a wealthy son-in-law than interested in his daughter, it appeared. So I didn’t say too much – I didn’t want him catching up with her.’ He got up abruptly. ‘Now, you know where to find me. I’ve told you what I know. With your permission, I’ll be heading home.’

‘Of course!’ Gwellia was already bringing him his cloak. ‘Your wife will be half frantic about you as it is. And you have been very helpful – my husband won’t forget.’

He turned to her, his withered face alight. ‘It’s been a pleasure, lady. He is a lucky man. Now, if I could have a servant to help me with my cart? I’ve left it at the corner, at the junction with the lane – the very spot where I saw Morella and the horseman, that day. But I’ve unhitched the horse, and I will have to harness it up again.’

‘I’ll take you to the slave hut and find a boy for you,’ Gwellia said grandly, as if we kept a horde of servants in the room next door. She took a candle and led the way for him.

Junio was squatting beside me in a trice. ‘You’ve discovered something, master. I know that tone of voice. And Minimus told us you’d found the tunic on the stall, and had gone off to see the dancing girls. What have you been doing since he saw you last?’

I told him, as briefly as I could. After a moment, Gwellia came in, and stood behind us, listening carefully as well. When I had finished she sat down by the fire.

‘So Hirsius killed Morella and left her by the road, hoping the Silurians would get the blame for it? Do you think he really hid the tunic in the hedge?’

‘It rather looks like it. After all, it was conspicuous. Even that farmer commented on it. Together with the sandals that Morella had? Now where on earth had they acquired those?’ She stopped and stared at me. ‘Oh, of course – there must have been that other body, lying in the lane.’

‘Exactly, Father. Is that why Hirsius killed Morella, do you think? Because she came across the body, and she might have talked? The farmer has just told us that they were riding from that direction – and isn’t that a little bit peculiar in itself? If anyone was going to ride to town, that is the quickest route – and yet she was going the other way, by all accounts.’

‘And it isn’t suitable for heavy carts,’ I said. ‘Don’t forget that Hirsius said the carts had gone ahead.’

‘So why was Hirsius in the lane at all? He was supposed to have been accompanying the luggage and the entertainment cart. And where was Pulchrus? He set off with them . . .’ He stopped, and looked at me, his face appalled. ‘You don’t think . . . after all?’

I nodded. ‘I’m afraid so, Junio. We thought the other day that the body we cremated might have been a page.’

‘Because of the soft hands and pampered feet?’ my wife enquired. ‘Poor Pulchrus! I am glad that you were there and able to give him a proper funeral.’

‘So it was Pulchrus all the time.’ Junio sounded saddened. ‘We kept on asking who had visited the villa on that day. We never asked who’d gone away from it.’

There was a moment’s silence before Gwellia remarked, ‘But I still don’t understand. Why was he discovered in Morella’s clothes? Doesn’t that suggest that she was present when he died?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that. I think it’s more likely that she turned up afterwards. Remember she was asking for Hirsius at the gate, and Minimus saw Aulus pointing down the lane – which suggests that Hirsius had already gone that way. So he and Pulchrus took the short-cut into town instead of accompanying the baggage-cart on the road. Suppose Morella turns up on the scene when Pulchrus is just dead? I don’t think it’s likely she saw the corpse – she wasn’t a girl to hide her feelings, and she’d have told the farmer if she’d seen a body in the lane – but it’s almost certain that she stumbled on the murderers.’

‘The murderers?’ Gwellia sounded shocked. ‘You think that there was more than one of them?’

‘I think there had to be. I’m sure Hirsius did the actual killing – throttled Pulchrus with the slave disc round his neck, I’d guess, then pulled it off for the false page to wear – but he did have help. Someone who came through Marcus’ land, of course. Consider what we know. Hirsius and Pulchrus were on horses when they left. Cilla told us that Pulchrus had been seen accompanying the cart – very distinctive in his new uniform. But he doesn’t deign to speak to anyone – that was not like Puchrus, I thought so at the time. But it wasn’t Pulchrus, it was someone in his clothes – which means that someone had to be working with Hirsius. It wasn’t Hirsius himself; he was on the Isca road, disposing of the witness who had seen too much. You remember what Morella told the farmer at the time – that the other fellow was just trying his costume on? Obviously she came across them just as he was putting on the uniform. He would have had a wig, of course – in that bag of costumes Atalanta saw him with. Hirsius told Morella it was some sort of preparation for the show, and she was such a trusting soul, she didn’t question it.’

‘But why put her dress on Pulchrus? Why not make a straight exchange? The murderer must have been wearing something at the time.’

‘I think that might have been their original idea. But Morella’s arrival must have startled them. We can’t know what happened, we can only guess, but it seems as if this other man was putting on the page’s clothes – presumably the naked corpse was on the ground nearby – when Morella came walking innocently down the road towards them. She was on foot, remember, with a bundle in her hand. What does she see but Hirsius, whom she’s been looking for? No doubt he went to meet her, to keep her well away, and she would have told him that she had the money now – and even offered him the bundle, so he could have the coins. But for once, he isn’t interested in that. His only thought is to get her away from there as soon as possible, and stop her from noticing the presence of the corpse. Perhaps she sees the sandals, so he gives her those and promises more garments later on. He tells her that the other man is putting his acting costume on – which is probably enough to stop her coming close, and gives a sort of reason for him changing in the lane. Hirsius offers to take her with him, and puts her on the horse, where she needs both her hands, so he leaves behind the bundle with the dress in it, saying it will be taken to catch up with the cart.’

‘But why put it on the body?’ Gwellia was looking strained and horrified.

‘I was about to come to that. The dress itself is just a nuisance – they don’t know about the coins, so it seems as if the mock-Pulchrus had a good idea. Instead of merely swapping garments with the corpse, he dresses the body in the woman’s clothes and hides it in the ditch and puts his own tunic in the costume sack. If the body is discovered, in a year or two, it will seem to be the girl’s – supposing that by that time there will be nothing left but bones and a few fragments of material.’

‘And some hair, perhaps. Of course!’ Junio sounded almost jubilant. ‘The hair might be a problem, so he hacks it off – together with the slave brand – just in case. And he smashes in the face so it can’t be recognised.’

Gwellia was doubtful. ‘You don’t think that was the original intent?’

‘I doubt it very much. More likely they intended to take the body out and leave it on the margins where Morella’s corpse was found. They even had a sack with them they could have put it in. But Hirsius would have had to take it out there on his horse – he would have had to be careful to disguise the shape – while the imitation Pulchrus was being seen near town. But Hirsius couldn’t do that, since he had Morella now, so his partner was forced to improvise and find a hiding place. He might have succeeded, too, if work for the new roundhouse had not disturbed the corpse so soon.’

‘And Lucius’s servants didn’t mix with the villa staff, so obviously they hadn’t heard about the plans.’ Junio was still following my train of thought. ‘But who was this second servant? He would surely have been missed?’

‘There was no second servant. You must have realised that. It had to be an actor to get away with it – and we heard from Julia that the mimic had been really excellent. That’s why Lucius had engaged him to go to Rome, of course – that and the fact that he was much the same size as Pulchrus was. Lucius and Hirsius would have met Pulchrus in Corinium, when he went to meet them and escort them here, so they knew what he looked like and how big he was.’

‘But they could not have guaranteed that they would find a man like that. And anyway, this murder happened on the morning before the civic feast. How could the acts have been at the villa then?’

I nodded. ‘I know. That confused me, at first, but of course the acts that Lucius ostensibly chose to take to court weren’t at that feast at all. They can’t have been – they were already on their way to Rome. They must have given their performances in front of him and Marcus at a different dinner on some other day. I believe that Hirsius had seen the acts before, and arranged for the most suitable to meet him here, so he could “select” them to perform at Marcus’s feasts and thence go on to Rome. I have learned that not a single local act – however excellent – was chosen to be sent to entertain the court, and there is a rumour in the town that it was all prearranged. Hirsius took bribes from all the other acts in town. It made it look convincing – and he profited, of course.’

Gwellia was looking more stricken all the time. ‘But why kill Pulchrus in the first place?’ she said helplessly. ‘Why try to take his place? It could only be to stop him doing what he was ordered to, but the message that Marcus sent to Londinium with him was delivered perfectly! Junio was telling me about it earlier.’

‘It was delivered, certainly,’ I said. ‘To the commander of the British fleet – who happens to be a relation of Lucius, in fact. We hear that Marcus is to be entertained there for a day or two, since the governor’s palace is not fit for guests. I wonder if the new governor is aware of that? And what will Marcus and Julia have to say when they discover that the arrangements for their trip are those that Lucius wanted them to make?’

‘I don’t know what His Excellence will say to that!’ I realised that the commander of the garrison had come in with Minimus, and was standing listening to all this at the door. ‘But I’m prepared to guess what he will say to you, if you dare to keep him waiting for a moment more.’

I have never moved so quickly as in getting to that feast. I travelled with the garrison commander in his gig, and – since we had blocked the farmer from passing in his cart, even after Maximus had helped him put the horse between the shafts – Junio and Gwellia followed us in that, with Niveus, while Minimus galloped on ahead to say that we were on our way. He had been sent to find me, it transpired, and from his agitated state I could imagine how irritated my host was going to be.

The new gatekeeper looked scandalised when I arrived so late. ‘They have already started, citizen – at least an hour ago. It’s a solemn memorial, as I told your slave. I’m not sure I should permit you to interrupt them now.’ He held up his torch to have a better look, and took in the presence of the military commander by my side. ‘But if it’s army business, I suppose you may go in.’

Minimus was waiting just inside the gate. ‘You’d better hurry, master,’ the redhead said as he hustled us towards the area where the feast was being held – a large space created by pushing back the screens between the
triclinium
and the adjacent rooms. It made a splendid banquet hall for formal feasts like this and tonight, with the funeral wreaths and flowers everywhere, it was an impressive sight.

The feast, when we entered, was clearly in full swing. The room was full of sober citizens, impressive in their togas or their
syntheses
. There were no women present – either they had left, or Julia was entertaining them in some other room – but the most important men in Glevum were all assembled here. Each wore a garland of dark petals and leaves round his head – a version of the dining wreath appropriate to tonight – and the tables were strewn with empty platters and hundreds of fresh flowers, which had been arranged in ribbons to decorate the board. The villa servants must have been working on the preparations for hours.

Lucius was holding forth as we came through the door – on his favourite subject of the Emperor – and the attention of the room was fixed on him. ‘He claims to have killed a thousand net-fighters in combat,’ he declaimed. ‘Ignore the traitorous rumours that he uses poison on his sword, and that some opponents are given imitation tridents which aren’t sharp enough to stab.’ He swallowed another gulp of Marcus’s wine. ‘No doubt such infamous gossip has reached you, even here?’