The Year of Confusion(33)

I did not think much of my chances here, but this case was so devoid of solid leads that I thought it was worth a try. The man, who looked up from his desk as we came in, was a big, bald-headed specimen who looked as if he had done his time in the legions. His face and right arm were scarred and he had blunt, peasant features that had the cast of southern Latium.

“Yes?” he said, looking slightly annoyed, a busy man interrupted at his work.

“Publius Balesus?” I said.

“That’s me.” The accent matched the face. He was from somewhere south of Rome.

“I am Senator Decius Caecilius Metellus, and I need to ask you a few questions.”

He looked a little more accommodating, but still suspicious. “I remember when you were aedile. Those were fine games. How can I help you, Senator?”

“You may have heard that the foreign astronomer who called himself Polasser of Kish was murdered a few days ago.”

He nodded. “I heard the rogue was dead. Good riddance, I say. The man was a fraud and a cheat.”

“The praetor peregrinus of last year, Aulus Sabinus, says that you tried to bring suit against Polasser, but he wouldn’t hear it.”

“Probably got a whopping bribe from Polasser, if you ask me.”

“Let’s not get into that,” I said, knowing that it was all too likely. “In what way did Polasser cheat you?”

“First off, he’s supposed to be able to see your future, right?” He began to fume. “All these eastern star-men are supposed to be good at it. Well, he told me to buy heavy, that the coming year should be a good one for speculating in grain. It made sense, didn’t it? Civil war, everyone nervous, everyone hoarding. So I followed his advice. Well, you know what happened to the grain market last year, don’t you? You’re a senator, you have estates.”

“The market was flooded first with a good harvest here and then with cheap grain from Egypt.”

“Exactly,” he said disgustedly. “I know what your kind think of mine. You think we’re schemers who batten on the misfortune of others, Well, it’s business, isn’t it? It’s a hard world. And when things turn out good for others, nobody sheds tears because it’s a disaster for us.”

“I’m not passing judgment on you,” I assured him. “I know plenty of senators who are in your business, at one remove or another.”

“Buggering right,” he said. A man came into the office.

“Master, some wagons just came in from Apuleia.”

“Good,” Balesus said. Then, to us, “I bought this lot before it was planted. See what a risky business it is? Let’s go look at it. I’ll show you some things.”

“Lead the way,” I said. Hermes raised his eyebrows at me but I ignored him. We went out onto the balcony and down some stairs to a yard behind the building. Eight or ten wagons stood there, loaded with big leather bags.

“Late harvest in Apuleia this year, and these wagons were a long time on the road. Now the first thing you do is this.” He went to the third wagon and selected a bag apparently at random, opening its top. He reached in and took out a handful of grain. He held it up close to his eyes. They were fine, fat grains as far as I could see.

“Looks good so far,” he said. “No mold, properly dried, no mouse dung in it. Now this is the next thing you do.” He thrust his hand down into the grain until his arm was buried past the elbow. He withdrew another fistful of grain from deep within and examined it. “The same stuff. We’ll go through some other bags before I’ll take it, but it looks like I’m not being cheated. Now I’ll show you something else. Come along.”

So we followed him across the plaza to a rather splendid building decorated with reliefs of wheat sheaves, harvest implements, and various gods of field and storehouse. It was the guildhall of the grain merchants. He led us to a room where a bored clerk sat with a pair of scales and a number of weights.

“I want to show the senator those bags the thief from Neapolis brought here last month,” Balesus said.

“Help yourself,” the clerk said, indicating a number of the big leather sacks that leaned against a wall nearby. “It’s not needed as evidence anymore, the man’s been sentenced. I was going to throw it out and sell the sacks.”

“Then we’re just in time.” Balesus hauled out a sack and set it before me and opened it. “Here, Senator. Give it a try.”

I took a handful of grain from the top and looked at it in the light that streamed in through a window. These looked like healthy grains to my eye. “Looks fine.”