‘Sempronius’ house? Not the West Viminal headquarters?’
‘No, his house, near the Viminal Gate; he made sure that I clearly understood that point. Only I didn’t take them to his house after all; they seemed too valuable to give away just like that. I thought that I would be able to make a lot of money from them and then live in luxury somewhere outside Rome.’
Magnus was unsurprised by her greed. ‘You double-crossed Sempronius? That was a foolish move.’
Tacita looked down, her eyes full of tears. ‘I thought that I could get away with it if I got the Vigiles to keep me in their depot. So I decided to tell them that Tuscus and I had interrupted a robbery, the thieves killed Tuscus but I managed to get out of the house, having clearly seen the two men and that they had the charts, thus taking suspicion away from me. You see, I thought that, as a lot of influential people consulted my husband in secret, no one would want to look too deeply into how and why he was murdered because all the attention would be on finding the charts. I figured that I’d be quietly forgotten and could slip out of Rome.’
‘And did you think that Sempronius would let you get away with that?’
Tacita shrugged. ‘Sempronius couldn’t go to the Vigiles and say that he had organised Tuscus’ death at my request but I had refused to pay him afterwards; nor could I betray him because then he would implicate me in the murder. Either way we would be appearing in the arena together. I judged that his best policy was to remain quiet about the whole affair and let it go, as there was nothing to connect the two of us so no one would think to investigate him.’
‘Nothing to connect you except for a misguided word yesterday afternoon. You should not have mentioned Sempronius’ name to me, but I’m very glad that you did. Go on.’
‘So I hid the charts again.’
‘Where?’
Tacita hesitated and then thought better of it as the grip on her shoulders tightened. ‘Back under the floorboards in the bedroom.’
‘Whereabouts in the room?’
‘Under the foot of the bed.’
Magnus gestured to Cassandros. ‘Go and have a look, Brother.’ He looked back down at Tacita. ‘And then?’
‘And then I went and reported the body to the Vigiles, saying that it was a robbery and that all my husband’s duplicate horoscopes had been stolen by men whom I could identify.’
‘Hoping that the Vigiles would keep you safe to prevent the murderers from killing you so that you wouldn’t be able to identify them?’
‘Something like that, Magnus.’
‘But that didn’t work because the aedile decided to use you as bait. And he still believes that there are mysterious killers out there looking for you. But we know different, don’t we? Now that you’re out, it’s Sempronius who you fear.’
Tacita gave a sullen nod.
‘And so you found yourself unprotected and decided that the only safe course of action was to give up the charts to Sempronius but the aedile had sealed off your house and you couldn’t get them. So you panicked and decided to tell Sempronius that you would bring them as soon as you could get back into your house?’
Tacita hung her head. ‘Yes.’
Magnus slapped his hand onto his forehead and groaned. ‘Thereby telling Sempronius where the charts were.’
Tacita put her hand to her mouth in shocked realisation. ‘But I’d been so careful.’ She blinked back the tears as Cassandros came back in.
‘Well?’ Magnus asked.
‘They weren’t there, Brother.’
‘What a surprise.’ Magnus’ tone implied the exact opposite.
‘I found the loose floorboard and could see where they would have been but they weren’t.’
‘You stupid woman!’ Magnus turned on Tacita, his fist raised; and then he paused, controlling himself. ‘How long did you stay at the West Viminal headquarters after you’d told Sempronius that you couldn’t retrieve the charts just yet?’
‘I don’t know. He sent a runner up here to check whether I was telling the truth and the Vigiles really had got the place sealed off. He told me that if the Vigiles found the charts and I couldn’t complete my part of the bargain then I could buy my life with my husband’s business and savings.’
‘And the runner came back saying that you had told the truth and the house was still sealed off and so Sempronius said you could go, rather than just killing you there and then, because he was now going to fleece you of everything you owned, having already stolen the charts.’ Magnus shook his head in disbelief as he turned his attention to Cassandros and Sextus. ‘Stay here with her and bring her back to the tavern as soon as it’s dark and then lock her up where we like to keep our guests. And if she makes a sound or struggles in any way, kill her.’ He looked down at Tacita to make sure she had understood; her eyes left little doubt that she had.
‘It will be tomorrow,’ Magnus said in response to Tigran’s question, ‘during the procession punishing the dogs; Sempronius won’t be at home.’
Tigran glanced across the street at a two-storey house as dusk descended upon the city. ‘How do you plan to get in there? And if you do, where will you look for whatever it is you’re looking for?’
Magnus pulled his straw hat further down to obscure as much of his face as he could, while Tigran was dressed in a plain tunic, Roman style to blend in. They walked at a slow pace past Sempronius’ house, on a quiet side street off the Vicus Patricius, just before the Viminal Gate.
‘How to get in is what we’re here to think about. It’s the tablinum that I want to get into so as to have a look in Sempronius’ desk.’ From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Magnus studied the front of the house: it had no windows onto the street in its ochre-painted facade other than the open-fronted shop to the right of the heavily constructed wooden door reinforced by iron strips. The shop, selling statuettes of gods and heroes as well as other decorative knick-knacks, Magnus knew to be nothing more than a subtle way to have guards outside the house without seeming to do so; indeed, the two burly shopkeepers lighting their lamps looked about as likely to be interested in decorative knick-knacks as Magnus was in fruit juice. They carried on walking past. ‘No alleys to either side,’ Magnus observed. ‘It’s attached to both its neighbours. Let’s have a look around the back.’
They turned left into a narrow lane, three doors up from Sempronius’ house, expecting to find an alley dividing the houses from those on to which they backed.
‘Mars’ arse! He’s chosen this place well. The only ways in are through the front door or over the roof.’
‘Or through the walls,’ Tigran reminded him.
Magnus shook his head. ‘Too noisy and we haven’t got the time.’
‘Then we either fight our way in or trick our way in.’
Magnus slapped Tigran on the shoulder. ‘I like that thinking, Brother. You see, Tigran, there is a fun side to being the second. Have you got any suggestions?’
‘It would help if I knew why you want to get in there and have a look in Sempronius’ desk, Magnus.’
‘Ahh, I’m afraid that I can’t tell you that as there are quite a few important gentlemen who would rather that the fewer people who knew about it, the better.’
‘Careful gentlemen, are they?’
‘You can never be too careful; one slip and—’ Magnus stopped as if he had hit an invisible brick wall.
‘What is it, Brother?’ Tigran asked.
‘Nothing; just something someone said. Or, rather, implied.’ Magnus drew himself back to the present. ‘What I can say is that there will be quite a reward for what I’m planning and you will share in it if you can get me into Sempronius’ house.’
Tigran pondered the issue as they walked back to the Vicus Patricius and mingled with the crowds frequenting the brothels, catering for all tastes, that the street was renowned for. ‘Well,’ Tigran mused eventually, ‘the only people likely to get past the guards and be allowed in by the doorkeeper would be known West Viminal brothers.’
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‘Yeah, I thought of that but dismissed it as I couldn’t see how we would induce one to cooperate.’
Tigran grinned. ‘He wouldn’t need any inducement if he were dead.’
Magnus again stopped still and slapped his forehead. ‘Now that is thinking worthy of a patronus. I’ll get a few lads together and go to find one.’
‘That’s the closest one to our territory that’s frequented by the West Viminal bastards,’ Magnus said as he, Cassandros, Sextus and Lupus surveyed a crowded tavern nearly halfway down the Vicus Longus in the disputed area between the West Viminal and the South Quirinal brotherhoods.
The open-fronted establishment was much the same as any tavern in Rome: big pots of food embedded in the bars, amphorae upright in racks or in boxes of sand, a cooking fire beneath a grill filled with strips of chicken or pork, a lot of rowdy, drunken men and a decent sprinkling of whores to lighten their purses and see to their needs.
Magnus handed Lupus a few bronze coins. ‘They won’t know you, Brother; get yourself in there and buy anyone who looks to have had a few a few more and then make your excuses and get out and come back to us.’ Magnus pointed to a similar-looking tavern further up the hill. ‘We’ll be in there.’ He gave the young brother an encouraging pat on the cheek. ‘Take your time; we’ll be fine.’
‘Now I’ve got you both alone, this is what I need you to do,’ Magnus said as he, Cassandros and Sextus hunched over a table in the corner of the tavern, each with a cup in his fist, an empty plate in front of them and a belly full of grilled pork. ‘Tomorrow, our headquarters is going to be raided by the Vigiles.’
Cassandros looked shocked. ‘How do you know that, Brother?’
‘Never mind how I know it; I just do. And I also know what they’ll be looking for.’
Sextus shook his head in wonder. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Magnus. When I’m looking for something I often forget what it was before I’ve found it. But you even know what other people are looking for.’
‘Don’t you worry your head about it, Brother; you concentrate on what I want you to do first thing tomorrow morning. You remember that trader we were at today in the Saepta Julia?’
Sextus cast his mind back a few hours; it took some time but Magnus did not rush the process. ‘Yes, Magnus; where you bought that knife.’
‘Well done, Brother.’ Magnus passed four denarii over the table. ‘Go back there and pick up the scroll waiting for me; give him this money and no more. Then give it to Cassandros. Got that?’
Sextus slowly digested his orders. ‘Pick up the scroll; give the man four denarii; give the item to Cassandros. Right you are, Magnus.’
‘What is it, Magnus?’ Cassandros asked.
‘Never you mind; you just take it and keep it for me.’
‘Where are you going to be?’
‘Busy.’
Any more questions were forestalled by the arrival of Lupus, looking as if he had thoroughly enjoyed his mission.
‘Here he comes,’ Lupus whispered to Magnus as they peered out of a dark alleyway near the first tavern.
‘Who’s that holding him up?’
‘A mate of his who turned up just before I left ; I was pleased as it gave me a good excuse to leave. Anyway, our man, Pansa is his name, is well in hock to Bacchus.’
‘Pansa? Good lad; he’s perfect. He’s a particularly nasty piece of work who has an unpleasant way with pincers when he wants to encourage someone to talk. I hope he’s enjoyed his last commune with the god.’ He signalled across the street to where Cassandros and Sextus were concealed in a doorway that Pansa and his mate were approaching, albeit by a ponderous route. ‘Come on, Lupus.’ Looking left and right, Magnus stepped out onto the Vicus Longus.
Ahead of them the staggering Pansa was having a little difficulty negotiating a set of raised stones set across the street, spaced so that cartwheels and draught animals could pass between them, used as a crossing point. Eventually his mate guided him through, having paused halfway to urinate over his sandals.
It was a mighty blow from Sextus’ right fist that was the last thing that Pansa’s mate saw that night, if, indeed, he saw it at all. Arching back, his nose crushed and his arms flying up, he collapsed with a dull thud onto the street, his head bouncing up once to crack back down and then loll to one side, to become just another victim of the feral night, ignored by all who passed.
Pansa swayed as he looked down at his erstwhile support, his eyes blinking as he tried to focus. The effort proved too much for him and he fell to his hands and knees, and then deposited a copious amount of vomit on to his mate’s tunic.
‘Come on, Pansa, my old friend,’ Magnus said, hauling him up once his stomach had been emptied. ‘You’re coming with us. I’ve finally found a purpose for your miserable life.’
The morning of the second day after the calends of August dawned golden over the city, and was soon blanketed in the baking heat that had become the norm over the past few days. But the people of Rome were not to be put off by soaring temperatures from punishing the beasts who had failed so grievously in their duty almost four hundred and fifty years previously. And it was with a carnival atmosphere that they tied stray dogs by their front paws to Y-shaped sticks, their heads lodged in the fork, and paraded the struggling, howling animals through the city to the Capitoline Hill and then on to the Aventine in order to teach them the meaning of their duty.
With relief Magnus watched the six brothers who had been delegated to represent the Brotherhood set off with their lashed-up hounds and a good part of the local community following. As the end of the parade disappeared down the Vicus Longus, Magnus, picking up a skin of water and a fresh tunic and slinging them over his shoulder, called to Cassandros and Lupus to join him in the back room.
‘When Sextus returns, Cassandros,’ Magnus said, putting down his water-skin and tunic and then pointing at the leather satchel on the desk, ‘put what he gives you in this and then before midday slip into Tigran’s room and hide it under the mattress.’ He took a key from the drawer in his desk. ‘This is a duplicate; it’ll get you in.’
Cassandros looked at Magnus questioningly, his brow furrowed as he took the key and picked up the satchel.
‘Just do it, Brother; it’s how I plan to stay alive.’
Cassandros looked down at the satchel. ‘Right you are, Magnus.’
‘Good lad. Then, once you’ve done that, make yourself very scarce until at least the eighth hour.’
‘Why?’
‘Never you mind.’ Magnus turned to the younger brother. ‘Lupus, go and get the handcart and bring it round to the side door.’
Without questioning the unusual request, the younger brother went to do as asked.
Magnus took a ring with three more keys on it from the drawer in the desk, turned and walked towards the door at the far corner of the room. Unlocking it, he passed through into a corridor, with padlocked, double doors leading to the outside world at one end and a couple of smaller doors along its length. Opening the first of these with the second key he stepped into a small cell.
‘Good morning, Pansa. How’s your head feeling today?’ A whimper from the other side of the cell caused Magnus to glance left. ‘Good morning to you too, Tacita. I’d like you to watch this.’
Pansa opened his eyes and looked up from the heap of rags upon which he had been sleeping; his wrists and ankles were bound. ‘Magnus! What the fuck am I doing here? When Sempronius finds out you’ll be dead.’
‘I wouldn’t think so, Pansa; in fact, I doubt very much that Sempronius will ever find out that you were here.’ With one fluid movement, Magnus pulled a blade from the sheath hanging from his belt in the small of his back.
Pansa had barely a moment to react as Magnus grabbed his head and plunged the knife into his chest. The wind was knocked from him and he looked down in horror as Magnus rolled his wrist left and then right, shredding the muscle of his heart.
Holding the dying man’s hair in his fist, Magnu
s pulled on the handle; the blade emerged with a slop of blood, staining the front of Pansa’s tunic. A final croak, low and rattling, issued from his throat as he made the transition from life to death. Tacita’s whimpers increased in volume as she watched Magnus wiping the blade clean on Pansa’s hair.
‘Did you see just how easy that was?’ Magnus asked in a conversational manner.
Tacita nodded, her eyes transfixed on the corpse.
‘Now, you have a choice: either I can walk out of this room having done exactly the same to you, or you can tell me the real truth as to how Sempronius knew about the charts.’
‘But I have, Magnus.’
‘No, Tacita, you haven’t. Yesterday when I pointed out that you had given away the location of the charts you said: “But I’d been so careful.” That implies that you had been concealing the whereabouts of the charts from Sempronius for some time. The truth, Tacita, or by the gods I swear your life means nothing to me.’
Tacita swallowed and then looked up at Magnus, eyes pleading. ‘I told Sempronius about them a few days ago; although I said that I didn’t know where Tuscus kept them as the hiding place wasn’t in the house but I would find out where it was, retrieve them and sell them to him.’
‘And you went to him and not me because you knew perfectly well that I would never countenance a wife stealing from her husband.’
Tacita gave a sullen nod. ‘I thought that I could get my revenge on Tuscus for his whoring by selling the charts and at the same time get enough money to be free of him and still have nice things to wear. But then when he beat me and you refused to help I worked out how to have him killed and keep the charts to sell.’
‘So you had been careful to conceal their location.’
‘Of course, otherwise I knew that Sempronius would just steal them and I’d get nothing.’
‘Which is now what you’ve ended up with because of that little slip of the tongue.’
Tacita now wept freely. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you, Magnus.’
Magnus and the Crossroads Brotherhood Page 37