Deadly Election (38 page)

A while later I looked out. I saw Faustus sprawled dead asleep on the stone bench, in full sun.

I called up Dromo. ‘Your master will catch sunstroke. Wake him and tell him to come indoors to rest in the cool on my reading couch. Then go to his house and fetch him a clean, dry tunic for when he goes out later. Better bring two, formal and informal, because I don’t know whether he intends going as an aedile or a private citizen.’

I put out a pillow and a jug of water. I heard Faustus come in. I stayed in my bedroom with the door firmly shut.

All the same, I was glad I had taken care of him. Glad, too, simply knowing he was here close by.

T
he Verecundus council was held at the Temple of Claudius. Temples are used for special meetings, of the Senate, for example. The family wanted a place with solemn religious significance, somewhere large enough to hold them all, and on the Caelian Hill where they lived. I presume they did not consider the fact that this temple had been begun by Agrippina, widow of the Divine Claudius, after she had killed off her imperial spouse with the fabled dish of poisoned mushrooms. How divinely appropriate that she, too, had been a domestic murderess.

Agrippina, the tigerish mother of Nero, eventually met retribution at the hands of her son. Also apt!

Lack of interest in Claudius meant it had taken several emperors to complete this temple, which stood high on an enormous man-made platform. The cost of its earthworks and engineers had not helped. Massive arched colonnades surrounded the huge sanctuary, with rows of trees shading its interior enclosure. Partly encircled by the crook-backed line of the Aqua Claudia, which brought the waters of the River Anio to Rome, in Nero’s time this area had been subsumed into his lavish Golden House. Elaborate nymphaea had once fed fountains and cascades that clothed half of the Caelian in sheets of sparkling water. It would have been a beautiful tribute to his adoptive father had Nero ever completed it, but he called himself an artist and artists notoriously abandon projects.

Vespasian owed his career to Claudius. He finished the job. He reduced the beautiful waterworks system to a more economic level but otherwise he turned a neglected eyesore into a striking structure. Despite that, no one had ever really loved the place.

The fabulous monument’s footprint was larger than that of the new amphitheatre, which lay across the road from it at a slight angle. The back of the temple’s platform had been cut into the long main ridge of the Caelian, while the front occupied one of the most elevated positions in Rome. Steep stairs led up from lower levels, deterring all but very fit visitors. The temple stared across to the Palatine Hill, as if to remind new generations of emperors that even the so-called divine could be despatched by wicked wives and quickly forgotten.

We met in one of the awe-inspiring colonnades. The main temple would have dwarfed our group. Tall-backed thrones had been set out. It was early evening. Everywhere here seemed deserted. Faustus and I sat a little behind the rest. It had been agreed with Ennius that the meeting was private so we would remain silent and not keep a record.

All five children of Verecunda came. Four brought a spouse each, the husbands all looking subdued. One grandchild, Julia Valentina, was deemed old enough. She arrived from the Callistus house with Julia Laurentina and Volusius Firmus; she sat with them, though her mother rushed over to kiss her when she arrived.

I had forgotten that Julia Optata would bring Sextus Vibius. He nodded to Faustus, then took no part in the formalities.

A whisper of gold silk and a waft of expensive perfume announced Julia Terentia, with her husband, the tipsy candidate, Dillius Surus. She was the only sister I had not yet met, physically like the others though looking even more pugnacious. She and the wavering Dillius held hands tightly, no doubt to emphasise to her hostile mother how fond of each other they were. The fourth sister, Julia Pomponia, was brought by a protective escort. She alone had no husband with her; Aspicius would not show his face lest he be arrested.

Last of the five siblings was Ennius Verecundus, no longer smiling as he had done so inanely during the campaign. His pale wife arrived on his arm, then sat leaning towards him; I found her manner indicative. I deduced that when they were alone in private they held long conversations. The pale thing was a traditional confidante and her presence was giving Ennius courage. I bet she had advised him what to say.

Last, the mother stomped in. Her freedwoman followed her and two male guards; she waved them away truculently. After they stood back on the edge of the circle, Julia Verecunda was left looking old, frail and alone. That was deliberate theatre. Nobody would have called her vulnerable. Without actually refusing to appear at the council, she showed she was here on sufferance. She was swathed in black, with a long Livia veil.

At first I thought she intended to remain covered, but she put the veil back from her face because it hid the glares that she directed at everyone. Even silent, she emitted loathing for everyone present. Now that I knew her history, I saw near-mania in the way her eyes darted to anyone who spoke. I could imagine the decades of long-distance envy she had sent towards her happier sister, the vengeful thoughts she had aimed at Callistus Valens.

She did not care that he was dead. She would have obliterated all of us, and never shown remorse.

I had attended a family council once before. They have the force of law. Ours had been a last resort in combating some truly terrible crimes; in retrospect, attending that meeting twelve years ago had marked my true growing up. I wondered, would the same be true for young Julia Valentina, brought to witness proceedings as a bereaved granddaughter? I had been a little older than her. At thirteen, she sat twisting her girl’s skinny bracelet and dangling her feet, visibly awed by the occasion.

Ennius took charge. He was thorough, yet did not allow delaying tactics or emotional outbursts. He said the purpose of the council was to ensure his mother’s rights as a citizen: not to have anyone lay hands on her nor have her liberty constrained. As a woman she would be accorded the decency of a private judgement. She had the right to a trial. Her family would judge her actions and, if they found her guilty, would decide what happened to her. It might also be necessary to compensate the Callisti for their loss. Ennius had promised Callistus Primus that a council was being held and that he would be told the outcome.

Ennius stated the charges: that his mother had arranged the attack on Callistus Valens, employing her son-in-law Aspicius; during his ordeal Valens had somehow perished; his body had been impiously concealed. There were witnesses to the initial attack and the corpse had now been identified. Aspicius had gone on the run, which argued his guilt.

Ennius asked if Julia Verecunda wanted to say anything. She refused to speak.

I had seen killers take the stubborn, silent route. Sometimes they, or their slaves or associates, were persuaded through the use of torture. Ennius pointed out that he would prevent that.

Others then made statements. They spoke solemnly. The rest listened without interruption.

Julia Pomponia, Aspicius’s wife, was the most important witness. She stated that early in July her mother had come to their house to see her husband about some special task, for which Aspicius was paid money. At first Pomponia was unaware what had been discussed. After the event, Aspicius told her all about the attack. According to him, Callistus Valens collapsed of heat exhaustion when they reached Rome. He was not beaten up, but died of natural causes. An accident, Aspicius claimed; there had been no intention to kill him. Verecunda had said that the point of capturing Valens was so she could humiliate him, avenge his rejection of her all those years ago, and gloat about how she had punished his family since. She had arrived on the scene soon after Valens died. She ordered the incarceration of the body in the strongbox in the storeroom. She decided they would keep Valens’s death a secret from his family, to cause them more distress as they agonised over what could have happened.

Next, Julia Optata gave witness. It was the first time I had seen Sextus’s wife speaking at any length. She managed to come across as the sweet woman Marcella Vibia had once called her. Julia confirmed that Pomponia had told her the same story, terrified of what Aspicius would do to her and the new baby when it came. Pomponia had been so frightened that Julia Optata helped her escape the marital home, after which another sister was intending to give her refuge overseas. Julia Optata added that yesterday Aspicius had turned up at the Vibius house. He believed his wife was there, and demanded access to ‘deal with’ Pomponia. He issued wild threats, terrified everybody, then stormed off.

Next was Julia Laurentina, Firmus’s wife. She reported news from her brother-in-law, Callistus Primus, not present because he was no longer a relative. He had now ascertained from Palace sources that a senior official called Titinius Capito had been paid by Julia Verecunda to remove the Emperor’s grant allowing Volusius Firmus to call himself ‘Caesar’s candidate’.

At that, Firmus himself growled from where he was seated that he would never be able to stand for election again, due to lack of funds. Julia Laurentina resumed her seat, putting an arm round him.

Julia Terentia was the last sister to give testimony. Among that self-assured bunch, she came across as the most confident. Making much of her power derived from her money, she confirmed that for many years she had supported the hard-up Pomponia and Aspicius, as a favour to her impoverished sister. In light of Aspicius’s irresponsible behaviour, she had recently warned them she would stop paying. All he did with the money was go to bars where he started fights. Julia Terentia knew that cutting off handouts left the couple in great hardship, but she saw no other option. She had advised Pomponia to leave him. Terentia said Aspicius had come to her house yesterday, too. When he threatened the occupants, Dillius hurled a big amphora at him, then chased him away.

Ennius then read out a statement from Claudia Galeria, wife of Titus Niger, that a chilling conversation had left her husband in no doubt that Aspicius, who was gloating about it, had been party to the death of Valens. Niger had gone to see Aspicius about this and was himself murdered.

A brief discussion followed. The women, trained by their mother never to hold back, denounced her fiercely. Her son managed to be more moderate. Pretty soon he declared they had heard enough. He gave his mother one more chance to defend herself. She snorted, then pointedly replaced her veil over her face.

Ennius offered them a secret ballot; they all chose to put up hands openly. They voted. Their verdict was unanimous: Julia Verecunda had not planned to kill Callistus Valens, so was not guilty of murder. But she had caused his death by planning the attack and paying the man who had carried it out. Aspicius was found guilty in his absence; Julia Pomponia would be divorced from him and sent abroad for safety, while the family would cooperate with the vigiles manhunt.

Ennius pronounced his mother’s punishment. She would be taken to a distant temple on the family’s land, where she must permanently remain. She would live in the charge of the priestess, with the family providing maintenance. Anyone who wanted could visit her, but she must not return to Rome.

In addition, they would make a payment to Claudia Galeria in compensation for her husband’s murder. A suitable sum would also be paid for the death of Callistus Valens. In further settlement, they would pay the surviving Callisti a sum equal to what they had spent on their thwarted campaign for Volusius Firmus.

A
s Ennius supervised the departure of his still-silent mother, the group began breaking up. The sisters swooped for farewell kisses; it would have been impossible for a stranger to tell which women were on good terms, which not speaking to one another. The girl, Valentina, was passed among them to be kissed. Sisters kissed brothers-in-law and vice versa. Brothers-in-law shook hands. Only Ennius made any gesture of farewell to Julia Verecunda who, oddly enough, accepted her son’s embrace.

A temple attendant must have been waiting until the council finished. A messenger was led up, wanting to see Faustus. While they stepped aside, I had a quick word with Sextus Vibius, wishing him well for the election. He puffed out his cheeks, a relief of tension after the meeting. Then he grinned and asked teasingly, ‘Made his move yet?’

It was really too painful to answer, but somehow I managed to laugh back at him.

His wife whisked up, looking peeved. ‘Leave my husband alone!’ She spoke lightly enough, but with an undertone I did not like. Sextus and I had barely spoken. Any familiarity was on his side. I would much rather he had not teased me.

The others were leaving. Julia Optata took her husband away, giving him a little biff on the arm as they went. It looked playful, though not playful enough. Something about her action, and how he moved out of the way, perturbed me.

I stood waiting for Faustus, thinking.

After he finished with the messenger, he came to collect me; he raised his brows in enquiry because he could tell I was puzzling. ‘Tiberius, why would you call somebody a grain bag?’

‘A what?’

‘A “human grain bag”? In a context where it was definitely an insult.’

Everyone else had gone. Just the two of us now, we started to walk through the high colonnade, our shoes striking clops on the expensive marble slabs. I explained how Trebonius Fulvo had once dismissively listed out his rivals to me:
a drunk, a wimp, a prig and a human grain bag.
Dillius, Ennius, Gratus – and that grain bag was Vibius Marinus.

Troubled, Tiberius suggested an explanation: ‘Trebonius is a gym-frequenter. Apart from its agricultural meaning, sacks of grain are used for training boxers. They are hung up to be whacked, sufficiently firm to take meaningful practice punches, but with enough give in them not to cause physical harm.’

I sighed. ‘Oh dear. I have a horrible feeling. Julia Optata just showed extraordinary suspicion when all I was doing was chatting to Sextus.’