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Under Vesuvius(41)

By:John Maddox Roberts


Hermes shook his head. “He was a big, powerful man. No girl did

that.”

“Why not?” I said. “A moment’s inattention, he turns his back, and in goes the knife.”

“That stroke was delivered with great power and accuracy,” Hermes protested, “right into the base of the skull where the spinal cord joins. It’s a job for a trained swordsman.”

I nodded, musing. “It’s hard to imagine how a woman could have done it. I’ve known some dangerous women in my time, though. I know better than to rule them out.”

Before we reached the villa, Regilius caught up with us.

“That was quick,” I said. “What did you find?”

“It was the same Roman-shod mare,” he said.

I thumped a fist on my saddle. “The same murderer! I knew it!” Actually, I had known nothing of the sort, but it is always good to appear wise before subordinates. “How did the killer tether the horse?” I asked. “There are no trees between the walls and the bluff. Did you find sign of a picket pin?”

“No, the mare was held.”

“Held? There was an accomplice?” This I had not expected.

“Two horses rode up to the wall, both mares, both Roman shod,” he reported. “From what I could make out, your killer went over the wall. Probably just stood in the saddle to do it. No problem with a wall that high. The other then rode off, leading the unridden horse, and waited about two hundred yards away. The first did the deed, then came back over the wall and the two of them rode away. Clever bit of planning, too.”

“How is that?”

“When I saw where the killer went over, I stood in my own saddle and pulled myself on top of the wall for a look. There’s a stable on the other side. You can just step onto the stable roof, then down to the fence, then to the ground and make no noise. If anyone heard those horses, they’d just think they were hearing noises from the stable.”

“You’re right,” I told him. “Now you have two horses to watch for.”

“If I see sign of them,” he said, “I’ll let you know.”

When we reached my villa, Julia had to know what had been going on and I gave her a quick rendition.

“We have to inform Gelon,” she said.

“I’ll tell him,” I said, “but not just yet.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, alarmed at my tone or my appearance.

“What I should have done sooner,” I told her. “I’m going to the temple to get that poor girl. At least I have legal cause now.”

She nodded and Hermes grinned. “Lictors!” he bellowed. Julia draped me in my formidable toga and we trooped off to the beautiful temple of Apollo. A hundred yards from the temple we could hear a woman screaming.

Julia grabbed my arm. “Don’t run. It’s undignified. That woman is being beaten and she won’t die of it before we get there.” I was not so certain. After the thrashing Hermes had described, could Charmian survive another as savage? In the courtyard behind the temple we found them.

Diocles the priest looked on coldly while a big slave wielded a whip on a young woman tied to a post. Her back and buttocks were crisscrossed with ugly stripes, and blood ran to her heels and formed a spreading puddle beneath her feet. But the screaming victim wasn’t Charmian. It was the big German girl, Gaia.

“Stop this at once!” I yelled. One of my lictors knocked the whip wielder sprawling with his fasces.

Diocles turned to look at me, seeming almost dazed by this turn of events. “Praetor? By what authority do you interfere with my conduct of my own household?”

“By my authority as praetor peregrinus of Rome. Diocles, you are a suspect in the murder of Gaeto of Numidia. I demand that you surrender to me certain slaves of your household for questioning in this case and in the matter of your daughter’s death. You will turn over to me the girl Charmian and this girl Gaia, and while you’re at it, give me the other one, Leto, before you whip them all to death.”

The old man turned paler than he already was, and his head began to tremble. “Gaeto? Dead? Well, what is that to me? So the Numidian swine is dead. How dare you accuse me of murdering him, if the killing of such a man can be considered murder?”

“You had the greatest motive to kill him, since you believe his son murdered your daughter. As a resident alien he was under the protection of Roman law and I administer that law. Now fetch Charmian!” I was out of patience and the defiance went out of him.

“I can’t,” he admitted, seeming to shrink.

“Are you saying she’s dead?”