Under Vesuvius(66)

“I understand. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“At an hour past sunset, as I said before, the litter arrived at the front gate. The janitor admitted it, and when I came into the atrium, my lady told me that she was going to her bedroom and I was to dismiss her gii’ls to their quarters.”

“Did you see who else might be in the litter?”

“No. My lady only put her head out and held the curtains close around her. The bearers took her right back to the bedroom, and a few minutes later they left with the litter.”

“And you didn’t— Yes, I know, one learns not to ask. Did you hear anything unusual from the bedroom?”

“No, Praetor. She said that the master would be at the guild banquet until very late and I might as well retire to my own quarters. It was not a suggestion, Praetor. I know when I am receiving a command, however gently it is put.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“Just that my lady seemed—very happy, Praetor.”

The janitor was of no help at all. He was an elderly Bruttian who was barely able to speak and whose intelligence seemed just about equal to his duties. One doesn’t need much in a slave who does little but open and shut the front door.

By the time I left it was determined that the sapphire was nowhere in the bedroom.

“I rather liked the woman,” I told Julia when I returned to our town house. “I am sorry that she is dead.”

“At this rate,” Antonia observed, “there will be no one left alive to give you any trouble.”

“The last one still alive will be the killer,” said Marcus helpfully. “That makes it simple, at the very least.”

“If there’s only one,” I grumbled. “There may be a whole pack of them.”

“Quadrilla was killed by Gaeto’s murderer,” Julia said. “The method was the same.”

“Or somebody is copying this homicidal technique to cover up an unconnected murder,” I speculated. “In the bad old days in Rome, when senators were being proscribed, many men used the confusion to settle old scores.”

“Nonsense,” Julia said. “Quadrilla smuggled a lover home and the lover killed her and took that sapphire.”

“Why?” Circe queried. “I mean, why take that sapphire, fabulous though it was? There was ten times its value in the box that held her other navel adornments.”

“The killer was taking a souvenir, a keepsake,” I said.

“That’s insane,” Julia said.

“Clearly, this murderer is not quite sane, however clever,” I said.

“Gorgo was killed haphazardly, and perhaps the killer did not go to meet her with murder in mind. Gaeto and Quadrilla were killed with an incredible cold-bloodedness. And then there was the bizarre, ritualistic way Charmian’s body was laid out.”

“Assuming there is just one killer,” Julia said. “If it is just one, and he is not sane, we may never find out his identity.”

“Why do you say that?” Antonia wanted to know.

“Because people usually kill from greed or jealousy,” she answered. “A madman does not act from such motives. Do you remember that madman in Lanuvium a few years ago?”

“Oh, I remember that one!” Antonia said, clapping her hands with delight like a little girl. “Was it twenty or thirty bodies found in his well?”

“Twenty, I think,” Julia said. “He testified that he heard Pluto calling from the bottom of his well, demanding human sacrifices. He threw one in every full moon for almost two years. Other than that, he seemed like a normal, rational man.”

“I remember Cato saying that it was a terrible thing to do to a good well,” I said.

“Our killer may be acting according to motives that make sense to him alone,” Julia said, “and if that is the case, we may never discover who it is or who will die next.”

“And I have to conduct a trial tomorrow,” I said.

“Is there no way to delay it?” Julia asked.

“None,” Hermes said. “Even if the augurs find the omens unpropitious, they’ll just throw Gelon into the local lockup until the praetor can find time to return here, or until the next praetor peregrinus comes down from Rome.”

“We can’t have that,” I said.

“Then go to bed,” Julia ordered. “It’s almost sunrise now.”

“Very well,” I said, suddenly feeling unutterably tired. “But I want to be wakened immediately if those cavalrymen return with some live bandits.”



* * *





13


THE HORSEMEN RETURNED EARLY IN THE morning, as I was rubbing my bleary eyes and plunging my face into a basin of cold water. I was not in a good mood, and my disposition was not improved by their report.