A Point of Law(43)
After a short wait, a lady came into the atrium to greet me.
“Welcome, Senator Metellus. I fear that my husband cannot be here to give you a proper greeting.” She appeared to be in her early twenties and was therefore far younger than her husband. Nothing unusual about that. Patrician girls were often married off at fifteen or sixteen to politicians in their fifties. She was beautiful in a rather severe way, with hard-planed, regular features. Her clothing was of fine make but proper and old-fashioned. She was as far from Fulvia as she could be and still be Roman.
“What could be more proper than a greeting from the distinguished Lady Octavia?”
“You are diplomatic, but then that is the reputation of your family. My husband is out with the rest of the Senate inspecting my great-uncle’s horde.”
Her use of the word was not lost on me. “You don’t approve of Caesar’s sending his soldiers here? They are citizens, after all.”
“When I married Caius Claudius I cut my ties with the Julian family. Like my husband and his brother, I perceive Caesar as a potential tyrant.”
“But I understand he contemplates adopting your brother.”
“I barely know my brother. I haven’t seen him since he was an infant.” She shook her head. “Forgive me. I forget my manners. Please come in, Senator.”
Hermes remained in the atrium. It was just a few paces to the peristyle, where the statues surrounding the pool ran to figures like Camillus, Cincinnatus, and various ancestral Claudians. Not quite as lively as Fulvia’s decor. We sat and a slave brought the obligatory watered wine and small loaves. I took enough to satisfy etiquette and determine that the wine was excellent, even though I couldn’t identify it.
“Is it possible that I may help you?” she asked.
“Possibly. I am investigating the death of a man named Marcus Fulvius. You may have heard that he was accusing me of corruption, and that I am a suspect in his murder.”
She shook her head. “I don’t follow City gossip.”
“Admirable. I’ve learned that he was living in a house owned by your husband, a property near the Temple of Tellus. Might you know anything about the man?”
“Like most men of quality, my husband owns a great deal of property both urban and rural. I suppose he must have a hundred residential properties within the old walls alone, and a great deal more outside and across the river. I know very little about them, and I doubt he does. His stewards manage all that for him. State business takes up all his time and energy.”
“Service to the Senate and People is a demanding calling. Among his holdings, does he by chance number any estates in Baiae?”
“Why do you ask?” The question was blunt, and her look was direct.
“This man Fulvius was from Baiae, recently arrived in Rome. I wondered if he might be a family client of your husband.”
“I know of no family named Fulvius among my husband’s clientela. I believe the Fulvias are in some way connected to the Claudia Pulchri, but not to the Claudia Marcella.”
“I see. Do you know if your husband has dealings with the Tribune of the People, Marcus Manilius?”
“I don’t know the man, but my husband stands firmly with the optimates and I can hardly imagine him having anything to do with a tribune. Those jumped-up peasants have brought the Republic to the brink of ruin. Sulla should have abolished the office when he had the power to.”
“I see I’ve troubled you needlessly,” I said, rising.
“I am truly sorry I couldn’t help you, Senator. I do hope you don’t think me rude.” Her smile was like the smile carved on a statue.
“Not at all. I’ll just see if I can locate your husband, our future consul. If I miss him, please extend my regards when he returns home.”
“I’ll be sure to do so.”
I collected Hermes and we left the house.
“Did you catch all that?” I asked him.
“Every word. I didn’t think they made Roman matrons like that anymore.”
“They don’t. I’m sure almost everything she said was a lie.”
“That’s a relief. A Roman woman who doesn’t follow City gossip—it’s like saying the sun comes up in the west.”
We found a tavern at the base of the Palatine where the soldiers were celebrating among admiring citizenry and took seats outside. The immense bulk of the Circus Maximus reared its arches skyward just a few paces away. An overworked girl brought us a pitcher and cups. It wasn’t like the wine served in a great house, but it was adequate.
“What have I taught you about criminal investigations, Hermes?”
“Everyone lies.”