The Conspiracy
Page 19
Here TIG. rose and, clearly suspecting the usual dream of incredible enrichment through rewards for informing, began a testing of the DEPONENT’S veracity and motives. Putting his hands on the FREEDMAN’S chest and pushing, he asked why MILICHUS was trying to discredit SCAEVINUS. Had he no loyalty to a patron? Did he forget that SCAEVINUS had set him free?
MILICHUS, not having anticipated heavy shoves of the sort TIG. was adeptly giving him, at first staggered and stammered and made a poor show of his honesty. His WIFE ingeniously said that she and her husband were trying to save SCAEVINUS from harm, they were preventing…(intending to continue).
But TIG. silenced her, saying that he was questioning her husband. And with new cuffs and pushes he accused MILICHUS of trying to take revenge on SCAEVINUS for having thrown objects at him, such as the iron comb he had mentioned.
MILICHUS, glancing at his wife, obviously hoping for new resources of imagination from her, could only think to agree with what she had last said, that the couple had a motive of wishing to spare and rescue their patron.
TIG. now asked the FREEDMAN if he knew the penalty for unduly disturbing the EMPEROR of Rome, especially on a festival morning when he was impatient to go to the Circus.
MILICHUS, becoming terrified, fell to his knees in the direction of HIMSELF while his WIFE coolly suggested that the EMPEROR summon SCAEVINUS and satisfy HIMSELF of the honesty of a poor but loyal man.
TIG.’S previous mention of the Circus caused HIMSELF calmly to say—more concerned, it seemed, for the promised entertainments of the day than for his very life—that it was time to leave.
At this juncture the Centurion SULPICIUS ASPER came at the door, carrying the weapon. TIG. asked for it, and as he examined it, the EMPEROR rose, and all who were seated rose, and HIMSELF now said impatiently: It was time to go.
TIG. was saying: Yes, this was it, this was the one. Many men had been looking for this dagger.
But HIMSELF, already leaving the room, gave scant attention to TIG., and speaking casually over his shoulder, ordered: 1) SCAEVINUS to be arrested, 2) MILICHUS and by all means his WIFE to be held for confrontation, 3) the interrogation to be held on the next day. Then he left, adjourning the interrogation. But as an afterthought, putting his head back in the door, he added: 4) EPICHARIS to be tortured, also on the next day.
PAENUS AFRANIUS (Recorder)
To ALBINOFULVUS, Chief Magister, Imperial Stables, from TIGELLINUS
From HIMSELF, a message to all personnel of the Green Faction, to you in particular, but also to the drivers, trainers, veterinarians, stablemen, grooms, stable guards, dressers, waterers, saddlers, tailors, members of the claque:
This has been an exemplary day in the history of Rome, for courage, determination, skill, and long practice prevailed over great adversaries and discouragements. Accept the gratitude of the Emperor of Rome.
For the breastplate of every horse that ran today for the Green, even though it may not have won, a silver plaque, engraved: CERES THE PROVIDER, Year XI of Nero. And in addition, for the breastplates of the Alashkert chestnuts and the Tigris grays, these added words: A GREAT HEART.
Confidential:
I had no idea you were such an artist of intrigue. Perhaps you have been long enough among horses. Perhaps you should come to the palace, where races are not always won by fast legs. You will be rewarded. For the moment, my thanks and admiration.
To ABASCANTUS, Imperial Treasury, from TIGELLINUS
Gifts of honor, twenty thousand sesterces each, to all drivers of the Green faction who competed on this day. Fifty thousand sesterces to Albinofulvus, Chief Magister of the Green Faction.
To VEIANUS NIGER, Tribune of the Praetorian Guard, from TIGELLINUS
Consult with Paenus and, upon establishment of appropriate guilt of its owner, seize an estate in the Campania and give it to Albinofulvus, Chief Magister of the Green Faction. Inscription at the gates: Honor to Rome.
To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS
I sit alone at the writing table in my office, in the flickering light of a single lamp, and I wonder what kind of dream it is in which we live. Whose dream? Today it was surely Nero’s dream. When he chose to drop the handkerchief himself for the start of the last race and stood there, the trumpeters at the ready beside him, the Tyrian toga of the presiding official over his scarlet tunic, his brow crowned with the wreath of golden leaves, holding up in one hand the baton with its eagle poised for flight, in the other the white signal cloth into whose delicate fabric the whole day’s outcome was interwoven, while the din of two hundred thousand shouting voices filled the bowl of the Circus to overflowing, he wore an expression—did you see his face, Paenus?—which was so naive, so careless, so free of pain and power that I, terrified, as you must have been, by the exposure to assault up there on the tribune where our Amazons could not surround him, actually wept for his innocence. I am a hard man. You know that all too well, Paenus. I do not think I have come to the point of tears in a decade. I am so puzzled by the fickleness of danger. You and I were tense all day—and nothing remotely threatening happened. It seems to me that, by and large, men want to accept authority. They need it, they cheer with open throats for its strong arms and medals. Was I weeping because the challenge to authority we had expected hadn’t materialized? I think that vigilance, to which I am very much attracted, is making a woman of me.
But we cannot relax, Paenus. I assume that Scaevinus has been brought in. I am very tired tonight: I will entrust the torture of Epicharis to you and Cassius. It should be done tonight—after midnight because Himself ordered it done tomorrow—or early in the morning; in any case, before the interrogation of Scaevinus. We want names. Report the results to me as soon as you are finished, no matter what the outcome or the hour.
I am not as rough a man as you think. I know your worth. You are a good policeman, Paenus.
To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police
Scaevinus is in chains.
We will do Epicharis tonight. Cassius makes good use of darkness.
Thank you for your words, at long last, of…what shall I say? Consolation for past error? I have not thought ill of you. A man with such an honest nose as yours (large but straight along the bridge, and bosky in the nostrils) cannot be all “rough,” as you put it.
April 27
To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police
Forgive the dark hour. You commanded a prompt report.
We are finished with Epicharis. She would not utter a word. She is now unconscious and so weakened by pain that she would not be able to speak even if she were willing. That is a strong (and, forgive me, beautiful) woman. Cassius, as usual, was as imperturbable as one of his machines, but I myself, rather than Epicharis, was almost broken by this ordeal, Tigellinus. You said you were moved to tears by the innocence of Himself’s face at the Circus today. What made you think that I was not very tired, too, tonight? Perhaps it was my weariness, perhaps the relief I shared with you that the Circus went off well, perhaps my surprise at your five short words of praise that made me vulnerable tonight. But I think it was something else: the sight of a tranquil face. Not innocent but tranquil, even in extremity. I have never watched a woman giving birth to a baby, but I can imagine that the pains of parturition may produce some such results as I witnessed tonight—with the difference, of course, that here the joy was in withholding rather than expelling. Contortions, yes, gallons of sweat, strong signs of the pain, involuntary outcries; yet always on the face a deep contentment, a pride, a sense of what it really means to be a woman. She was obviously sustained by love for Mela, fortunate man; perhaps by love for Lucan. But there was something more, which struck at the very core of my sense of profession. Am I really a good policeman? Thank you for your congratulations. I am very tired.
We know no more than we knew before
. When we first took Epicharis in the room, and she saw the machines, she looked me straight in the face and said that she would never as long as she lived speak another word to me. I knew by her look that she meant what she said. But of course we had to go through with it. She kept her promise. She made no coherent sounds.
To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS
I have your report on Epicharis. We will let her live with her pain overnight and torture her again tomorrow. You will not be present. You have in you the makings of a traitor. You lust after a woman on the machines. For shame!
To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police
I knew you would have to punish me for the crime of having been praised by you. I think I like stupid Cassius’s company better than yours. There is no sentimentality in him. He tortures out of a sense of duty.
INTERROGATION:
Flavius Scaevinus
In the Presence of the Emperor. Attending: Tigellinus, Rufus, Paenus, Cassius; Milichus and wife in confrontation; Felix, Stenographer.
Directly SCAEVINUS was brought into the room TIGELLINUS stood and drew the dagger from within his clothing and threw it on the round marble table behind which SCAEVINUS had been posted, and said: Where did you get that weapon?
(PAENUS meanwhile stood and interposed himself between HIMSELF and SCAEVINUS, because the bold gesture of TIG., intended to shock and frighten the ACCUSED, might have given a desperate and determined man precisely the opportunity he had long sought.)
SCAEVINUS, however, appeared as usual to be languid, bored, barely interested in what was happening around and to him.
SCAEVINUS: Oh, that. A very old dagger. It has been in my family for generations. For reasons that were never explained to me, it was venerated by my ancestors; it had some religious weight for them. It was therefore always kept in a wooden lockbox in my bedchamber. I see MILICHUS here. When he and his wife disappeared yesterday morning I searched the house to see what he had stolen, as I assumed plunder to have been his motive in leaving. He had never been any good. I found this knife gone. It was the only thing he took—so I was forced to change my assumption. He apparently wanted to take revenge on someone, but I am glad to see you have arrested him.
TIG.: No, SCAEVINUS, MILICHUS‘S motive was something else. I should think you might have guessed that, having spent the night in chains.
And TIG. told MILICHUS to repeat what he had said the day before.
MILICHUS now repeated his accusations, but in the presence of his patron, and perhaps remembering TIG.’S threatening test of his veracity the previous day, his tone of voice was markedly different: hesitant, stumbling, wheedling. His wife, standing beside him, jarred him with her elbow now and again, interpolated vivid particulars, and only succeeded by her forwardness in further weakening her husband’s narrative.
SCAEVINUS seemed to wake up somewhat during this performance, and when MILICHUS subsided, the PATRON launched, as if he were the accuser rather than the accused, into a resolute assault on his FREEDMAN. After calling him an ingrate and a depraved foot-licking informer who hoped to milk the Imperial treasury with his lies, he turned to his own defense in a relaxed and rather convincing way.
SCAEVINUS said: He had often reviewed his will, given gifts, and freed slaves on impulse, without reference to sacred days or special occasions. On this particular day, he had been accosted in the street by a creditor, who pressed him for payment. This annoying encounter having reminded him of his many debts, he had begun to doubt the worth of his will, especially as to its codicils of bequests to slaves, and this had moved him to give more freely than usual. Yes, he had eaten well that night; he was well known for his table; he had long expected to be rebuked by the censors; life was dull—there was not much, for him, besides the palate, the palestra, and the penis. All that about things to stanch blood—the FREEDMAN had invented all of it, as he had the whole texture of his tale, in hope of a reward for informing; he must have had daydreams of being a great SUILIUS or VALERIUS.
These references to notoriously rich informers made HIMSELF, in good humor because of the successes in the Circus the day before, begin to laugh. In fact, SCAEVINUS was making a strong impression on the EMPEROR, who seemed inclined to side with an aggrieved Senator against a treacherous ex-slave; so that efforts TIG. now made to press SCAEVINUS about the dagger came to very little.
TIG.: Will you deny that this dagger had until recently been enshrined in the Temple of Fortune at Farentum?
On the face of SCAEVINUS there was a response of what seemed to be genuine surprise—an unaccustomed animation, two eyebrows up, wide eyes. One remembered the account of SCAEVINUS‘S long sessions with his barber before the triple mirror in the mornings, his rehearsals of expressions and attitudes, his life of vanity and feigning; yet this response was so swift and complete as to be rather convincing.
SCAEVINUS: It was? Well, it is quite possible that MILICHUS took the dagger from my room some time ago. This search yesterday was the first time I had opened the lockbox for…for years. MILICHUS, did you…(intending to continue).
Now HIMSELF mildly intervened and, adopting his usual attitude of tolerant and slightly amused skepticism whenever danger to his Person was being discussed, observed that the interrogation did not seem to be getting anywhere.
Whereupon the WIFE of MILICHUS, desperate to save her husband from the ignominy of an Imperial rebuke, at last scored a point.
WIFE of MILICHUS, to her husband: Tell them about NATALIS. That he was with NATALIS all that day.
MILICHUS then eagerly corroborated that SCAEVINUS and NATALIS had conferred for several hours on the day in question.
This evidently meant little to HIMSELF, who was stirring to rise and cut short the session, but TIG. (who had only recently taken a keen interest in NATALIS) at once commanded the urgent arrest of NATALIS and asked permission of HIMSELF to carry on further investigations without bothering HIMSELF until definite charges could be developed, and the EMPEROR with a gesture signaled something between indifference and acquiescence.
PAENUS AFRANIUS (Recorder)
To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS
In these next hours I am going to have to spend some careful time with Rufus planning dispositions of the Guard in case we need to show our strength; and after that I must see to the second session with Epicharis.
When Natalis is brought in, I want you to question him and Scaevinus separately, asking each what the subject of their conversation yesterday was. If they both tell the same story, without having had a chance to confer, then the composure and spirit Scaevinus showed in his interrogation will have been borne out. I cannot say exactly where that would leave us. But if they disagree…
Report to me as soon as possible.
Have Epicharis taken to the room with the machines and have Cassius stand by.
To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police
Urgent.
They do not agree.
Natalis came in roaring. He demanded now to be taken to the Emperor, now to be confronted by a proper tribunal, now to be heard by the Consuls. His bravado was somewhat deflated by my putting to him the single question: What did you discuss day before yesterday with Scaevinus?
I then lied, warning him that Scaevinus had already admitted they had had a long talk, and saying it would be best for everyone if there was agreement on all points between the two.
Natalis entered on a list of topics they had talked about. Feigning a strain on his powers of recall, one saw instead a clear tax on his gifts of invention. He mentioned: Some problems of rent collection on estates he owns to the north of Rome; a literary discussion (interesting that he should have brought this up) on the degree of Seneca’s independence, in his tragedies, of his models in Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides; and then a pause. I waited in silence. After
a careful search of the ceiling, Natalis added: Some gossip about Statilia Messalina, wife of the Consul Vestinus; plans for a dinner party; a project for the addition of a room to his house for readings, with a dais, armchairs for guests of high rank and benches for others, and curtains for those, such as his wife, who might wish to hear without being seen. And more such.
I cut Natalis off, dismissed him under guard, and summoned Scaevinus.
When I put the question about their talk to Scaevinus, he asked with a convincing air of indifference what Natalis had said. You can imagine that I had a good laugh at that. I told him it was not going to be so easy.
Quite casually then, and with greater facility and fluency than Natalis had exhibited, Scaevinus said the main thing they had talked about was his indebtedness, the general precariousness of his means, and various schemes to recoup them. He mentioned various other topics, not a single one of which coincided with those that Natalis had listed.
I recalled the two men, one after the other, and confronted them with the variance in their accounts. They remained strikingly cool—Natalis especially having recovered composure—and each swore that the other was lying. I could not shake anything out of them, with nothing but oral menaces at my command.
What next? Torture? I believe Natalis is very afraid of it.
To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS
No, let Scaevinus and Natalis stew a while. I have persuaded Himself that it is time to arrest Lucan and Piso and question them. Bring them in.