The Legatus Mystery (29 page)

Marcus was shaking his head. ‘So there never was a murder at the shrine? At all?’

‘Not until Trinunculus,’ I said. ‘That’s the ironic thing.’

Aurelia had been listening intently. ‘He strangled Trinunculus with that stole of his,’ she said suddenly. ‘Just took it off, like he did in here, and pulled it tight around his neck.’ Her voice quivered. ‘Poor little Trinunculus. He never did anyone any harm.’

‘He simply talked too much,’ I said. ‘The sevir told us that himself. He relied on that, in fact, to spread the stories that I was to blame. But once Trinunculus had seen him with the bones the whole town would know. Meritus had to silence him, that’s all. He could not be frightened into secrecy, like Lucianus, or dazzled by talk of auguries like Hirsus here.’

Hirsus looked hurt, and scrambled to his feet. ‘But Meritus read the omens wonderfully.’

‘He was no more skilled in augury than you or I. He knew how to convince you, that was all.’

‘Then how did he know that those were stolen goods, and I hadn’t given them to Lucianus?’

‘Because he was expecting them, that’s why. Consider this. A thief comes to the temple grounds at night, carrying a load of precious goods. That’s possible, I grant you, but what if the priest on duty is a dealer in metal artefacts? And is prepared to bend the law, as we now know. Does that suggest anything to you?’

Hirsus nodded gloomily. ‘I suppose you’re right. Certainly he dealt in metal goods – that’s why Lucianus went to him in the first place. Meritus had already given him a price for Aurelia’s gifts.’

‘Of course!’ I said. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. The things he found were not originally offered as a sacrifice at all. Why should they be? Lucianus was saving to be free. I’d wondered why he’d produced them at the shrine.’

‘He did make one voluntary offering, the night he found the bag,’ Hirsus said quickly. ‘At the altar of Jupiter, that was, as a sort of thank you to the gods. A brooch that Aurelia’d given him – for bringing her a letter, I believe.’

Aurelia looked uncomfortable, and changed the subject instantly. ‘Citizen, do you think the sevir killed the thief as well?’

I shook my head. ‘I doubt it, lady, or he would have had the goods – and moved the body from the temple long ago. All these magician’s tricks with bones came to him quite suddenly, I’m sure – when the body was discovered yesterday. He made sure he had the Imperial temple to himself – he told us he sent the sub-sevirs into town to buy some sacrificial doves. I think he forced Lucianus to play his part, and then, when the body was “discovered”, he safely locked the door to “contain the evil”. Lucianus crept out of the back, and Meritus smuggled in the bones while Scribonius stood guard at the front door and Hirsus was sent over here to ask for help.’

Marcus looked grave. ‘I see. That meant that he had witnesses when the skeleton was revealed. You think he used the same technique to organise the boodstain this morning?’

‘I’m sure of it. Not hard to find blood, after all the rituals. I’m sure he spread it there while the others were asleep, expecting that Hirsus would open up the shrine: but when that failed he insisted that they should all three go together, so that he had witnesses when it was found.’

Marcus said suddenly, ‘Why was he doing it at all? All these false bloodstains and disappearing bodies? Simply to terrify the populace? If it brought people to the temple, I could understand – the gifts and sacrifice would be credited to him – but it seems designed to frighten them away!’ Now that the immediate danger was over, he was beginning to sound irritated again.

I looked at him steadily. ‘Ask yourself, Excellence, where he got that ring.’

He stared at me. ‘More stolen goods? Surely he can’t have staged all this simply to distract attention from his trade in dubious goods! It would be more likely to do the opposite.’

I said nothing.

He frowned. ‘Pavement-maker, what are you telling me?’

‘Forgive me, Excellence, but who owned the ring?’

‘The legate who was mur—’ He stopped. ‘Great Mercury! Surely you’re not suggesting . . .? But of course! The bodyguards. Chopped into pieces. Some of them were never recovered. Didn’t you say the sevir didn’t have a slave-brand?’

‘And he could ride a horse,’ I said. ‘And play the temple instruments. And fight – we saw him demonstrate that tonight. And he knew Aquae Sulis too – and that the legate had been there on his route. He let that slip as well.’

‘In fact, he knew too much about that dead legate altogether.’ Marcus was smiling now. ‘Why should an ex-slave from the borderlands have heard the details of that affair? By Jupiter, Greatest and Best, Libertus – I see. All these signs and corpses at the shrine, the bloodstained cloaks – and the reappearing legate’s ring. That’s what it was all about. He had been part of that bodyguard. He wanted to stop the legate coming here.’

I nodded. ‘It looks almost certain, Excellence. When the first attempt didn’t work, he tried the blood, but Fabius wouldn’t be deterred. Meritus must have been aware of that; he told me himself he knew the legate’s messenger had called. So tonight he staged this desperate last attempt.’

‘It must have been important to him.’

‘A matter, literally, of life and death. Of course Fabius Marcellus served the previous emperor, too. I’ve no doubt he knew the earlier ambassador, and his personal bodyguard. And Meritus – with his height – is memorable. The legate would have recognised him at once.’

Marcus nodded. ‘A legate’s personal bodyguards are specially chosen for their strength. Meritus would have been particularly admired. And if it was discovered that he abandoned his post . . .’

‘Or worse,’ I said. ‘He may have killed the ambassador himself. Remember that he had the ring. At the very least he stole that from the corpse, and chopped his companions into little bits. In either case, he could not face discovery. So as soon as Fabius’s messenger arrived, and Meritus learned that the ambassador was coming and who he was, the incidents began. I think he meant you to see the connection. It was intended to make you conclude that the gods were warning you – and it almost succeeded, too. You yourself wrote suggesting that the visit should be cancelled.’

Marcus said, ‘So did the pontifex!’

‘And if you hadn’t, I’m sure Meritus would have suggested it himself. In fact, if Fabius Marcellus was not such a stubborn man, with a wayward niece to visit in the town,’ I glanced at Aurelia, who blushed, ‘I’ve no doubt the sevir’s plan would have succeeded splendidly. I am ashamed to say, I almost aided him. I found that ring that he put there for me to find – not once but twice – and thought that I was clever, doing so.’

‘He will regret his scheming soon enough,’ Marcus retorted. He turned to the soldier. ‘Is the centurion there?’

The soldier opened the door and made a brief inspection of the court. ‘Waiting in the peristyle, Excellence.’

‘Have him come in and offer his report.’

The officer was still in disarray. His eye had turned a dreadful shade of blue, and although he had attempted to re-dress his plume, it still sagged deplorably. He had taken off his cloak, but the leather of his armour was stained with damp (just as Lucianus’s tunic had been smudged with blood) and his polished greaves were dull with mud and rain. All the same he bowed to us in turn, with as much dignity as his appearance permitted. ‘In the name of the Divine Commodus, Emperor of this province and of all of Rome, Centurion Gaius at your service, Excellence. We have secured the prisoner, and now hold him bound. What shall we do with him?’

Marcus rose to his feet with conscious authority. ‘Have him taken to the garrison, and lock him up there. I do not trust him in the common jail. The Phrygian is safely in the cells?’

He nodded. ‘Gaining consciousness, when I saw him last.’

‘Don’t have him tortured. We want him capable. He is an important witness here. I will wish to question him myself. But see what you can get out of the priest. If he confesses it will go easier at his death. Tell him that. Have him brought before me first thing in the morning. Now it is very late. Provide me with lamps and escort, and see me home.’ He nodded to me. ‘I will see you in the morning at my house, old friend. My thanks, as usual, for all your help.’ And, accompanied by the soldiers, he was gone.

Hirsus stared after him. ‘It’s all over, then. Meritus is disgraced, and so am I. And yet he promised me the signs were good.’ He sighed. ‘But he couldn’t really read the auguries?’

‘You can hardly expect me to believe he could,’ I said. ‘He told the crowds that he had read the signs, and I had brought all this trouble on the town.’

‘He told Trinunculus,’ Hirsus agreed. ‘And I believed, for one. But this was supposed to be the anger of the gods. Why should he want to put the blame on you?’

‘Because I asked too many questions, and he feared that I would find him out, I suppose. He almost had me murdered by the mob.’

Hirsus nodded sadly, but Aurelia leapt to her feet. ‘The crowds!’ she said. ‘Oh, Mercury! I had forgotten, with all that’s happened here. Forgive me, citizen. The people who came here looking for you, earlier! They’re here. That’s what I came to tell you. Where’s my page?’

‘Here, mistress.’ The lad stepped through the door, as though he had been waiting for her summons – as, by his next remark, it seemed he had. ‘You told us never to interrupt when you were speaking to a visitor.’ (I thought of those letters, and saw Aurelia blush.) ‘But if you are ready to receive us now?’ He turned to me. ‘Citizen, I have done as you instructed. I fetched your slave boys for you, and they are here.’

‘Slave boys?’ I said stupidly. ‘There is only Junio.’

Then I saw who was coming in, and stopped. There was Junio, of course, but behind him was Gwellia and last of all came Kurso, the little kitchen boy.

‘Gwellia! Thank the gods you’re safe!’ I murmured, and then added in surprise, ‘What are you doing here?’

She stepped forward humbly, and knelt down at my feet. ‘Master,’ she said, ‘I am sorry to disturb you here, and sorrier still to be the bearer of bad news. But I did not know what else to do. This boy,’ she indicated Kurso, ‘has come to you, appealing from his master.’

‘All right, Gwellia, my dear. Get up.’ I hated to see her kneel to me like this. Kurso was an unlooked-for complication, too, although the boy was perfectly within his rights – indeed it was almost the only right he had – to apply to another citizen for sanctuary. A man can no longer simply beat his slaves to death. By publicly appealing to me like this the boy was not legally a runaway, nor – mercifully – could I be held in any way to blame. It did, however, make me liable. Either I had to return him to his master, or the matter must be settled by a magistrate on the first possible day, and – naturally – at my expense.

‘Master?’ Gwellia said, and I was lost.

‘Very well,’ I said resignedly, seeing my commission for the pavement disappearing before I’d even seen the coins. ‘I award him sanctuary. But why bring him here? Couldn’t it have waited till I got home?’

She looked up at me, and I saw tears of weariness glistening in her eyes. ‘That’s the problem, master. There is no home to go to. When you had gone the mob came back, and when they couldn’t find you they threw me and Kurso out into the street, and set the place ablaze.’

Strange, until that moment I had never felt much affection for the rented, tumble-down, rat-infested workshop that was my home, but suddenly it felt very dear to me – especially since I now had Gwellia to share it with. Also, it was extremely late, and we had nowhere that night to lay our heads.

Aurelia was very kind. She braved her husband’s anger by rousing him (he had betaken himself to his room in pique) and asking if we might be offered hospitality. It is not customary for the pontifex to entertain, but the old man was so delighted to learn that the mystery was solved, and that he was unlikely to suffer the anger of gods or emperors – since the sacrilege was committed by another priest, and not even at his shrine – that I believe he would have turned out of his own bed for me, if I had demanded it.

However, with Trinunculus lying dead I was uncomfortable about sleeping in his room, or in the sleeping quarters at the temple, where they would be preparing his body and beginning the lament by this time. So when Hirsus offered the use of the guest room in his apartment, I accepted with alacrity.

It could only be a temporary solution, as I knew. Hirsus had been guilty of a crime – the technical theft of Optimus’s slave – and had colluded in dishonesty. He was likely to be fined, at best, and stripped of his office. From what I now knew of his finances, Hirsus would soon be lucky to have a home himself. But it was late, and wet, and I was tired. I had enough worries to keep me tossing half the night, but as soon as we arrived at Hirsus’s house I was overcome by weariness. I took off my toga and stretched out on the couch, without even a pretence at courtesies, and the next moment I was sound asleep, with Gwellia on a blanket at my feet. I didn’t so much as stop to see where my slave boys were to be installed, but it must have been satisfactory because the next morning they were washed and fed and standing at my bedside when I awoke, all of them looking unreasonably refreshed and cheerful.

‘Why are you grinning like a newly elected senator, you young idiot?’ I grumbled, as Junio helped me from the couch, and I submitted to the unusual luxury of having three people compete to assist me with my ablutions and my clothes. ‘There isn’t much to smile about that I can see.’

Junio’s grin widened. ‘There is some good news, master. I went back to the workshop earlier, to see if anything could be salvaged there. It’s not as badly damaged as we feared, and it didn’t start a fire in the street.’

I nodded. That was a relief. Conflagration is a constant hazard in a place like that, and contributions to the fire-watch are a continuous but necessary drain on the purse. If my shop had been the centre of a fire, it might have been a very costly business, especially if neighbouring businesses had turned on me.

But Junio hadn’t finished. ‘The rain extinguished it, it seems,’ he said. ‘You have been very lucky. Upstairs is blackened, and the stairs have gone, and so has a portion of the roof, but most of your stone is still intact, and Gwellia had the wit to save the tools. There is a dreadful mess, of course, and smell – but it should be possible to save the shop.’