Ptolemy examined the knife with bloodshot orbs. “It looks ordinary enough to me.”
“Perhaps in Alexandria,” Creticus said, his lawyer’s blood up, “but not in Rome! Sir, in Rome such a weapon is called a sica. You see that it is curved and has but a single edge. Under Roman law it is defined as an infamous weapon. It is the favored weapon of common cutthroats and of Thracian gladiators. The honorable weapons are the straight, double-edged pugio and gladius. These are the honest weapons of free men!”
“You mean,” Ptolemy said, “that mere shape of blade makes one weapon honest and the other infamous?”
“Exactly,” Creticus affirmed. “I am reluctant to believe that a kinsman of mine would commit cowardly murder. But if he did, he might use a pugio or a gladius, or even his bare hands, but he would never stoop to killing with a sica!”
“Hear, hear!” shouted the Roman contingent, myself included.
“Your Majesty,” Achillas said, “are we not only to lend credence to sophists but to consider the impenetrable nonsense of Roman law? This man has brought dishonor on the whole court of Egypt, and has shown likewise the contempt in which Rome holds our nation!”
“Lord Achillas.” Ptolemy said, “you are making a great deal of fuss about a dead whore. You are to cease this instant.” It was good to see the old sot show a little iron. Churlishly, Achillas nodded. Ptolemy turned toward us.
“Your Excellency, I am now inclined to credit your kinsman’s claim of innocence, although this is mystifying. Your legal customs are strange to us, but I have no doubt that they are perfectly sensible to you. Lord Orodes”—he turned to the Parthian—“if it will help to settle things, I will buy up the remainder of the dead woman’s contract myself. Since her body is in my house, even though she may not have died there, I will even see to her funeral. Is that satisfactory?”
Orodes glowered. “Perfectly, your Majesty.”
Now Ptolemy turned back toward us. “Tell me, young Decius, how did you happen to be in this woman’s company, romping about in the Daphne?”
“Actually, sir,” I said, feeling that I was all but clear, “we met in the Necropolis.” At this the whole court roared with laughter.
“Your Majesty,” Creticus said, “what is the meaning of this unseemly mirth?”
Ptolemy wiped tears from his eyes. “Excellency, the Necropolis is the resting place for our honored dead, but it is also the most popular fornicating-place in Alexandria. Why, in my younger days … well, never mind. Go on, young Decius. This was worth getting up early for.”
“Sir, I was engaged in that investigation for which you yourself commissioned me.”
“I have not forgotten.”
“The woman set the assignation to tell me something of great importance. I thought the opportunity was worth the effort and I met her as directed. She wanted to make her home in Rome but needed a patron there to give her legal support. I agreed to this if her evidence proved to be of sufficient importance.”
“And the nature of this evidence?” the king asked.
“She was supposed to deliver it to me tonight, but she did not live to do so. I do not know what the evidence was supposed to be.” This was not quite a lie. The book itself was not the incriminating item. I hadn’t studied law for nothing.
“And how did you end up at the Daphne?” Ptolemy asked.
“She expressed a desire to go there,” I said.
“And?”
“The night was yet young. Why not?” At this everyone erupted in laughter again, except for Achillas and Orodes. And Julia.
“Quintus Caecilius Metellus Creticus.”
“Yes, your Majesty?”
“I find sufficient grounds to doubt your kinsman’s guilt. I release him to your custody. Keep him out of mischief. I bid this court disperse.” A chamberlain clanged his iron-shod staff on the polished marble and everyone bowed to the king, the Romans inclining slightly, the other foreigners deeply, the Egyptians all the way to the floor.
“Back to the embassy,” Creticus said. We turned and walked from the court with great dignity. Asklepiodes fell in beside me.
“That was an excellent performance, even for me,” he said complacently.
“I won’t forget it. Was there anything else you didn’t tell the king?”
“I told all that reinforced your innocence. Innocence of murder, that is. But there were other things. There were many bruises. The woman was killed with considerable violence.”
“Torture?”
“I saw no sign of it. I found this in her mouth.” He handed me something that looked like a piece of soggy leather, brownish on one side, pinkish on the other.