The Tribune's Curse(80)

I went into the headquarters beneath the portico. The aedile Paetus was nowhere in evidence, but I didn’t need him. “Demetrius!” I bellowed.

The clerk came from in back, his eyes wide with astonishment. “Sir?”

“Demetrius, I want you and your staff to drop everything you are doing. I want all the records pertaining to the aedileship of Marcus Aemilius Scaurus, and I want them now! Bring everything out onto the terrace outside, where we’ll have decent light. I order this as an official iudex with full praetorian authority. Jump!”

He scurried back inside, and I went out into the fine light of late morning, studying the facade of the Circus Maximus, thinking while the temple slaves brought out folding tables, then emerged with armloads of scrolls and tablets.

Of all things to stumble over, I thought as they got things in order. Asklepiodes had helped me in so many investigations, and this time he had the answers but didn’t know it. He was unaccustomed to injuries of animal origin, but his slaves weren’t. He was ignorant of our political institutions and had no experience of the diplomatic life of Rome. He could have solved this for me days ago at the Theater of Pompey.

But I knew I was foolish to rebuke him, even mentally. This was my investigation, and I had been misled by all the mystical mummery. I should have asked him the right questions.

“What are we looking for, sir?” Demetrius asked. In an amazingly short time they had arranged the records in neat piles. There were five slaves besides Demetrius, including Hylas, the boy who had assisted me on my previous visit.

“I want anything that may involve Egypt, either foreign correspondence or contact with Egyptians here in Rome, most especially with King Ptolemy, who was here in Rome for much of the time Scaurus was in office. I also want anything concerning the Games he put on—particularly, who contributed money toward his financing of them. I want anything that bears the name of his assistant, Ateius Capito. Get to work!”

It was not an easy task, and it did not go swiftly. An aedile generates an awesome amount of documentation in the course of his year in office. Much of what I really wanted probably never made it into the official record, anyway, especially those things involving gifts of money. But there was hope. Powerful, arrogant men can be amazingly maladroit when it comes to leaving evidence of their malfeasance. They assume that nobody will ever investigate them, and that they are immune from attack anyway.

“Did any of you attend these Games?” I asked as I went over a huge bill for animal fodder for such exotic beasts as lions, bears, zebras, even ostriches.

“Most of us went to the races,” Demetrius said. “Some watched the plays. As slaves we couldn’t attend the munera and the animal fights.”

“That’s a law seldom observed,” I noted. Women weren’t supposed to attend them, either. That didn’t stop them from going.

“It was enforced this time,” Demetrius said. “So many people came in from the countryside to see them that everyone had to get entry passes months in advance and show proof of citizenship.”

“I suppose it makes sense,” I said. “If the whole purpose of an aedile’s munera is to win votes, why waste them on people who can’t vote in the first place?”

While we were going over the accounts, the aedile Paetus showed up.

“Back again, Metellus? What’s all this?” I told him, and he pulled up a bench. “I’ll give you a hand. Do you plan to prosecute him next year for the Sardinians? It’ll make your reputation if you can pull it off.” He picked up a tablet with an elaborate seal and opened it, then let out a low whistle. “Rather generous contribution from Ptolemy, here. The old drunk was really spreading the money around that year. I wish I’d been in a position to have some come my way.”

“Let me see!” I snatched it from him. “Hah! Two talents toward the expenses of his Games, as a loving token from the king of Egypt, Friend and Ally of Rome.”

“Nothing illegal about it,” Paetus reminded me. “He put it in the public record.”

“But it’s evidence. Anyway, while I’m sure Scaurus deserves flogging and exile, he’s not really the one I’m after. Keep looking,” I told the others.

Paetus shook his head. “What shows that man put on. The first hippos ever seen in Rome. Do you have any idea of the expense involved in bringing hippos to Rome? Took a whole ship converted into a big fish tank for each beast. Crocodiles, too. First ever shown in public.

“Crocodiles, eh?” I said. Today, everyone was dropping these little tidbits in my lap. “You don’t get hippos and crocodiles from Gaul, now, do you?”