Oracle of the Dead(74)

“She’s dead. She’ll be just as dead an hour from now. I’ll have her body brought in, but first you have to be less of a target. Come along.”

The rage went out of me. She was right, of course. We walked back to the temple with four men surrounding me with shields. Once inside, I sent them out to join the hunt. Then I poured myself a large cup of unwatered wine. This night, I felt I didn’t need to observe my new regimen. Julia had wooden screens erected before all the windows.

“The assassin missed me with his first shot and hit Sabinilla instead,” I told Julia. “I was moving by the time he drew his second arrow. It struck her too. The poor woman. She picked the wrong time to come visiting.”

“Unless she was the target. The bowman may have tried to kill both of you with two arrows.”

“Eh? Why?” The shock of the events had made me slow.

“She came here without sending word ahead and arrived unfashionably late. That woman was nothing if not fashionable. When she got here, she never came to the quarters to find me. She went straight out to where you were foolishly walking about in the dark. Perhaps she wanted to tell you something and the killer wanted to silence her.”

“Yes, that could be how it was,” I admitted. “I’ve said before that everyone is a suspect in this business. She may have been involved somehow. When she is brought in, I want her clothing searched. She may have brought something in writing. Who came with her? She wouldn’t have come alone and she wouldn’t have walked.”

“I’ll send to find out,” Julia said. She went out and began to give orders. When Julia gave orders, they were obeyed quickly. A short while later she came back.

“She came in a litter carried by some of those Gauls of hers. She was accompanied by a bodyguard of her Gallic gladiators as well. The only other member of the party was this man.” She snapped her fingers and a gray-haired man came in, carrying a small chest.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“I am Eteocles, my lady’s steward,” he said. I vaguely remembered him from the party. “Praetor, is it true that my lady is dead?”

“I am afraid so. She was murdered in an assassination attempt on me.” I saw no reason to burden him with my suspicions just yet. He gasped and turned pale. I allowed him to collect himself.

“Eteocles, your lady was traveling light when she came here. Did she usually travel with so few servants?”

“Why, no, sir. Ordinarily she traveled in considerable state, as befitted her wealth and position. Today she was in a great hurry and called for her swiftest team of bearers and a few guards and me.”

“Why you?” Julia asked.

“Well, she told me to get this together”—here he raised the box in his hands—“and come with her and not allow it out of my possession. It was all very puzzling and she said nothing all the way here.”

“What is it?” I asked.

In answer, he placed it on a table. It seemed so heavy he could barely hold it. Then he threw back the lid. The chest was perhaps a foot on a side and a foot deep. It was packed with gold coins, a considerable fortune.

“Leave us,” Julia said peremptorily. The man bowed and backed out of the room. When he was well away, Julia turned to me and said, “What is this?”

I picked up a coin and looked at it. It was a beautifully struck Alexandrian piece with the profile of Ptolemy Auletes on its front. I tossed it back into the box. “This, my dear, is a bribe. The woman came here to strike a deal with me. She learned that something was happening here and figured out that everything was about to come to light. She decided to get to me before anyone else could and bribe me to keep her out of it somehow.”

“She must have had a low opinion of Roman praetors.”

“For that much money, most praetors would have accepted gladly. I, however, am incorruptible. She merely got killed for her pains.”

One of the servants stuck her head in the door and informed us that Sabinilla’s body had been brought in. “Let’s have a look at her,” I said resignedly.

She had been lain on a table and nothing had yet been done to clean her up. The first arrow had gone through her windpipe and a jugular. In dying, she had lost almost all her blood. It covered the front of her gown as if it had been recently dyed red. The second arrow was no more than a gesture. She was dead within seconds of the first strike. Julia ordered two of her female slaves to search the woman’s clothing. Reluctantly, they complied. They found nothing. Julia told them to go wash the blood off their hands and they ran out, gagging.

“I don’t think we’ll learn anything from her now,” Julia said.