Now I addressed the assembled audience in sorrowful tones, “I would like to believe that Eugaeon was threatening to denounce the Hecate cult as criminals and mass murderers, but it is also possible that Eugaeon wanted in on it and demanded a cut for himself. Which was it, Iola?”
“You have no proof!” she said desperately.
“That’s a weak objection. No matter. Doubtless Apollo and Hecate will judge which of these people betrayed their trust, and in what fashion. Both are reputed to have terrible punishments in store for those who would violate their most sacred oaths.” Porcia looked unimpressed, but Iola was clearly terrified.
“Once Eugaeon approached her, for whatever purpose, Iola and her confederates began to plot his death and those of the other priests. Murder had always been a simple business for these cultists: a rap on the head or noose around the throat, rifle the bodies, and send them down the river to the underworld. Or else leave it to professionals overseas. Either way was eminently safe. This was different. The priests of the Temple of Apollo were persons of public importance, known locally by everybody. They would be immediately missed, even if you could kill them all quickly and dispose of the bodies down the river. It had to be planned carefully, so that no suspicion could fall on you. You had to know the schedules and routines followed by the priests, and exactly when they would be most vulnerable. There was only one way you could accomplish this: plant a spy in the temple.
“Whatever their other austerities, the priests of Apollo are no less captivated by feminine beauty than are other men. To this end you acquired the girl Hypatia, a remarkable beauty, intelligent, and a good actress. You taught and coached her carefully, then you presented her to Eugaeon at an outrageously reasonable price. Smitten, he complied at once. Once in the temple, she commenced her true duties. I suspect that you already knew all about the other tunnel, that it had no ventilation and that the priests stayed down there only a short time. Hypatia told you the days and hours during which the priests descended to their crypt, and that they stayed only a short time, during which all other persons were barred from the temple. It was perfect. The girl would simply shut the trap behind them and they would suffocate quickly because they took numerous lamps or torches with them. A day was appointed on which to carry out the deed.” I stood back and paused. Everyone was eager to hear what I had to say next.
“It would have worked, Iola, but two things happened that you could not have included in your calculations. First, a Roman praetor showed up and wanted to consult the Oracle. There was no way you could refuse. Second, when Eugaeon lost consciousness, he fell into the river and surfaced literally at our feet. Do you think it was the gods taking a hand in mortal matters to see that you suffer a horrible death in this world?”
“I never sold that girl to Eugaeon,” Iola maintained. “There cannot be a single witness to say I did!”
“Quite right,” I said to her. Then I pointed to Porcia. “You did.”
“Liar,” she said succinctly.
“One of the most gratifying things about criminal conspirators,” I said to the audience in the tones of a teacher, “is that they rarely think of the evidence they leave behind in the form of papers. The written word can condemn as efficiently as the spoken word. Witness the lapses of these murderers, who otherwise planned their actions so admirably. They killed the fence Elagabal, but did not think to take his papers. They did away with Manius Pedarius, but left his papers for his son, and consequently myself, to peruse at leisure. Here is another paper.” Again I held one aloft.
“When I questioned the girl Hypatia after the discovery of the dead priests, she said that she was sold to the temple by Aulus Plantius, a traveling slave dealer familiar to many here. When my suspicions were aroused and I began to put together my own explanation of what happened, I consulted with the distinguished historian Lucius Cordus and he generously found for me the relevant document.” I gestured to where Cordus stood in the crowd and he basked in the attention.
“This is a praetor’s office document for the sale of a slave girl named Hypatia to the Temple of Apollo. The seller is not identified as Aulus Plantius. The seller is named as Porcia, daughter of the freedman Sextus Porcius.” There were great sounds of outrage from the crowd. “Her father was indeed that same Sextus Porcius who had dealings with Elagabal. She followed her father into the business.”
At last Porcia saw the trap closing around her. “You two are guilty, and many others with you,” I told the two women. “You might as well come clean. I remind you that you stand condemned to the complete satisfaction of these people here assembled. Only the presence of these soldiers keeps them from tearing you apart right now. I may decide to withdraw that protection. Talk, and you may live to bribe your way out of this. Decide now.”