The Venus Throw - Roman Sub Rosa 04

by Steven Saylor

  I hesitated.

  "For Dio's sake?"

  I sighed, seeing no way out. "You want me to find out who murdered

  Dio?"

  "No, no!" She shook her head. "Didn't I make myself clear? We already know that. What I need from you is your help in collecting evidence to convict the man."

  "You know who murdered Dio?"

  "Of course. You know him, too, I'm sure. Until a few days ago, he lived just up the street from you. His name is Marcus Caelius."

  I stared at her blankly. "How do you know that?"

  She leaned forward, absently running her hands over her thighs. The movement pressed her breasts together and caused the sheer cloth which outlined her nipples to shimmer. "Until recently, Marcus Caelius and I were on rather intimate terms. He and my brother were also close. You might say that Caelius was almost like a brother to both of us."

  The way she said it, the implication was vaguely obscene. "Go on."

  "Not long before the poison attempt was made on Dio in the house of Lucius Lucceius, Caelius came to me asking to borrow a considerable sum of money."

  "So?"

  "He told me he needed the money to pay for some games being held in his home town, Interamnia. Apparently Caelius has an honorary post on the local council there. In return, there's an obligation to help pay for local festivals; that's the way Caelius explained it to me, anyway. It wasn't the first time he asked to borrow money from me."

  "Did you always oblige him?"

  "Usually. You might say I had developed a habit of indulging Marcus Caelius. He always repaid me, but seldom with money." "Then how?" "With favors." "Political favors?"

  Clodia laughed. "Hardly. Let's just say that I had an itch and Caelius knew how to scratch it. But I'm digressing. As I said, the sum of money

  he asked to borrow was rather large—considerably larger than he'd ever requested before."

  "Enough to pay for an awful lot of scratching," I said.

  Her eyes flashed. "Why, yes, perhaps that's what I was thinking when I foolishly agreed to give Caelius the loan. Afterward, I became apprehensive, and made some inquiries. Imagine my displeasure when I discovered that the games at Interamnia are held in the autumn, not the spring. Caelius's pretense for the loan was a complete fiction."

  "He would hardly be the first young man to lie to a beautiful woman to get her money."

  Clodia smiled at this, and I realized that I had called her beautiful without even thinking; I had meant to say 'an older woman,' surely. The flattery was all the more sincere for being spontaneous, and I think she sensed this.

  Her smile faded. "I believe Marcus Caelius used the money to obtain poison and then to bribe one or more of Lucceius's slaves to try to kill Dio with it."

  "You said it was a large sum of money."

  "Poison isn't cheap; the stuff has to be reliable, and so does the person selling it. Nor is it cheap to bribe the slaves of a rich master to commit such a crime." Clodia spoke with authority, as if she had personal knowledge of such matters. "The connection occurred to me only later, after Dio was dead. Little things—the tone of Caelius's voice and the look on his face whenever the subject of Dio arose, cryptic comments he would make, my own intuition."

  "These are hardly evidence."

  "Evidence is what I want from you, Gordianus."

  "Whatever the truth of the matter, it wasn't the poison attempt that killed Dio. What about the stabbing?"

  "Early on the evening of the murder, Caelius was at my house, which isn't far from that of Titus Coponius, where Dio was killed. Caelius was carrying a knife, concealed inside his tunic."

  "If it was concealed, how—"

  "I assure you, nothing on Marcus Caelius's person was hidden from me that night," she said with a brittle smile. "He was carrying a dagger. He was also nervous and fretful, in a state such as I had never seen him in before, and drinking more than was good for him. I asked what was wrong; he said there was an unpleasant task ahead of him, and that he would be relieved when it was done. I pressed him to tell me what it was, but he refused. You men, with your little secrets. I said, 'This unpleasant task which you dread so much—I hope it's not the task I asked you here to perform.' 'Of course not!' he said, and proceeded to demonstrate as much. But our lovemaking that night was a disappointment, to say the least. Caelius was about as effectual as one of our shriveled friends in the river today. Later, when his friend Asicius came by to collect him, Caelius was eager to leave. Well then, I thought, let the boys go off and play with each other. A little later that night—only moments after the two of them left my doorstep, I imagine—Dio was stabbed to death."

  I paused for a long moment before speaking, puzzled not by the details of Clodia's story but by her whole manner of speaking. I had never heard a woman talk of her sexual relations in such frank terms, and with such acid in her voice. "You realize that everything you've told me connecting Caelius with Dio's murder is merely circumstantial."

  "Then here is another circumstance: the next night, when Caelius came calling on me, he brought me a little gift—a silver necklace with lapis and carnelian baubles—and boasted that he could now repay every sesterce of the money he had borrowed from me."

  "And did he repay you?"

  She laughed. "Of course not. But from the way he talked, I had no doubt that he had come into some money. He had performed his task, you see, and been handsomely paid off."

  "Is this merely your assumption?"

  Clodia wasn't listening. She stared at the roof of the tent, remem-bering. "Our lovemaking that night was quite the reverse of the previous evening. Caelius was a veritable Minotaur—horns rampant, eyes aflame, his flanks glossy with sweat ... "

  I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could interrupt her it was done for me by the approaching sound of a man's laughter, deep and throaty, accompanied by splashing footsteps. Clodia snapped out of her reverie and sat forward on her couch. On her face was a look of pure joy.

  I turned to see a man taking high steps through the shallows along the riverbank, striding toward the tent. Like the other men in the river he was naked. The light of the lowering sun glittered on the water behind him, casting him in shimmering silhouette; beads of water on his shoulders and limbs sparkled like points of white flame outlining the dark mass of his body. As he emerged from the river he raised his hands and pressed the water from his hair, showing the sleek muscularity of his shoulders and arms. On dry land his stride became a swagger, and though his features were still shadowed in silhouette, I could see the flash of a broad smile on his face.

  "Darling!" The word emerged from Clodia's lips like a breath made audible, as uncalculated as a moan or a sigh. There was no pretense or teasing in her voice, no slyness or innuendo. She sprang from the couch to meet the man as he stepped into the tent. It was hard to say which of them looked more naked, the sinewy, long-limbed man wearing nothing but beads of water, or Clodia in her gown of transparent yellow silk. They embraced and kissed each other on the mouth.

  After a moment Clodia drew back and took his hands in hers. Where her gown had become wet from being pressed against his body, the silk was even more transparent and was molded to her like a second skin. She turned her head, saw me gaping and laughed. The man did likewise, as if he were her mirror image.

  "But darling," she said, squeezing his hands and giggling like a girl, "why didn't you simply come in through the tent flap? What on earth were you doing out in the water with the others? And when did you join them? How could I not have noticed?"

  "I only just arrived," he said, with a laugh deeper than Clodia's but uncannily similar. "I thought it would be fun to slip in among your admirers and see if I could attract your notice. Which I didn't, apparently!"

  "But I was distracted, darling, by something very important!" She nodded toward me and affected a sober expression. The teasing tone had returned to her voice. She was performing again, but for whom? "It's about Dio, darling, and the trial. This is Gordianus,
the man I told you about. He's going to help us punish Marcus Caelius."

  The man turned his beaming smile on me. I recognized him now, of course. I had seen him at a distance in the Forum on many occasions, haranguing his mob of followers or keeping company with the great powers of the Senate, but never naked and wet with his hair slicked back. How very much like his sister Publius Clodius looked, especially when one saw the two of them together, side by side.

  Chapter Eleven

  I remember something you used to tell me, Papa, when I was starting out on my own: 'Never accept a commission without obtaining

  some sort of retainer, no matter how small.' " Eco cocked his head and gave me a penetrating look. "What is your point?" I said.

  "Well, when you left Clodia's horti this afternoon, was your purse heavier than when you arrived?" This was his way of asking if I had accepted Clodia's commission to investigate the murder of Dio— how typical of Eco to get directly to the heart of the matter!

  Despite the summerlike warmth of the day, darkness had fallen early; it was still the month of Martius, after all. By the time I left Clodia's horti, shortly after her brother's arrival, the sun was already sinking, turning the Tiber into a sheet of flaming gold. It was twilight by the time Belbo and I reached home, trudging back across the bridge, through the shut-down cattle markets and back up the Palatine. Night fell, with a slight chill in the air. After a hurried meal with Bethesda and Diana, despite the tiredness of my legs I again set out with Belbo across the city to take counsel with my elder son.

  We sat in the study of the house on the Esquiline Hill, which had once been my house and my father's before that. Now it belonged to Eco and his brood. His wife Menenia was elsewhere, probably trying to put to bed the squabbling twins, whose high-pitched screams of laughter occasionally rent the cool evening air.

  I had just described to Eco my interview with Clodia, up to the arrival of her brother and my departure shortly thereafter.

  "When I left the lady's horti," I said, "my purse was substantially heavier."

  "So you did accept her commission?" I nodded.

  "Then you do believe that Marcus Caelius murdered Dio?" "I didn't say that."

  "But you'll be looking for evidence to convict him." "If such evidence exists."

  "Clodia's reasons for suspecting him seem to me tenuous, at best," said Eco. "But then, you've begun investigations with less to go on and still managed to dig up the truth."

  "Yes. But to be honest, I'm a little uneasy about the whole affair."

  "I should think so!"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, Papa, everyone knows that Caelius and Clodia were lovers. And Caelius and Clodius are political allies and drinking partners, or used to be. For that matter, there may have been something more than friendship between the two of them. Or the three of them, I should say."

  "You mean the three of them in one bed?"

  Eco shrugged. "Don't look surprised. A woman like Clodia—well, you said yourself that there wasn't a piece of furniture in the tent except for her couch."

  "So?"

  "Papa! You assumed that you were meant to stand. From what I've heard, the woman is more hospitable than that. If there was no chair, only a single couch, perhaps that meant that you were invited to recline."

  "Eco!"

  "Well, from the dress you say she was wearing—" "I should have been less descriptive."

  "You should have taken me along with you. Then I could have seen for myself."

  "You're well into your thirties now, son. You should be able to think of something besides sex."

  "Menenia never complains." He grinned.

  I tried to make a grunt of disapproval, which came out sounding more like a hum of curiosity. Eco had chosen a black-haired beauty not unlike Bethesda for his wife. In how many other ways was she like Be-thesda? I had wondered about this from time to time, in the perfectly natural way that a man of my years ponders the younger generation and their goings-on. Eco and Menenia . . . naked Clodius and his sister in her transparent gown . . .

  At just that moment, one of the twins let out a scream from elsewhere in the house. I was jolted from my reverie, rudely reminded that physical pleasure can have consequences.

  "We stray from the subject," I said. "I told you I felt uneasy about accepting this commission from Clodia, and you said, 'I should think so.' "

  "Well, it all seems rather unsavory, don't you think? Perhaps even suspicious. I mean, there's an odd smell to it. Look, Papa, all you really learned about Caelius from your interview with Clodia is that he borrowed some money from an older, richer woman—under false pretenses, to be sure—and failed to repay her. Oh, and that he happens to carry a knife on his person, which is technically illegal inside the city walls but done by most people with any common sense these days. Until very recently these two were lovers, and now she's after evidence to convict him of murder. What are we to make ofthat? Caelius was her brother's confidant, and now the two Clodii accuse him of being a hired assassin for King Ptolemy, or for Pompey, which is the same thing. Why, Clodius is Caelius's landlord—Caelius lives in that apartment just up the street from you."

  I shook my head. "Not anymore. Clodius kicked him out." "When?"

  "A few days ago. I didn't know about it until today when Clodius told me himself—standing there naked in the tent, dripping wet, nonchalantly discussing his real estate with me. Funny, the gallus and I walked by the place on our way to Clodia's house and when I saw that all the shutters were closed on such a warm day, I thought Caelius must be inside sleeping off a hangover. Instead it turns out that the apartment is empty. Caelius has gone back to live at his father's house on the Quirinal Hill—where he'll undoubtedly stay, until his trial is finished."

  "Then they're definitely bringing charges against him?"

  "Oh yes, charges have already been filed. But not by Clodius."

  "Then by whom?"

  "Can you guess?"

  Eco shook his head. "Marcus Caelius has too many enemies for me to hazard a guess."

  "The charges were filed by the seventeen-year-old son of Lucius Calpurnius Bestia."

  Eco laughed and mimed with his outstretched arm. " 'Judges, I do not point the finger of guilt—I point at the guilty finger!' "

  "So you know that story?"

  "Of course, Papa. Everyone knows about Caelius accusing Bestia of poisoning his wives. I only regret that you and I were gone visiting Meto when that trial took place. I heard about it secondhand from Menenia."

  "It was Bethesda who told me about it. Well, it looks as if Bestia may soon exact his revenge on Caelius."

  "Has the date for the trial been set?"

  "Yes. The charges were actually filed five days ago. Given the customary ten days allowed for the two sides to prepare their arguments, that puts the beginning of the trial only five days from now."

  "So soon! You don't have much time."

  "Isn't that always the way? They come to us thinking we can pull evidence out of thin air."

  Eco cocked his head. "But wait, you're saying the trial will start two days after the Nones of Aprilis. If it goes on for more than a day it would overlap with the opening of the Great Mother festival."

  I nodded. "The trial will go on despite the holiday. Lesser courts are suspended during the festival, but not the court for political terrorism.

  "Political terrorism? Then it's not a simple murder trial?"

  "Hardly. There are four charges against Caelius. The first three accuse him of organizing the attacks on the Alexandrian embassy—the midnight raids in Neapolis, the stoning in Puteoli and the fire at the estate of Palla. I'll take no part in investigating those matters. My only concern is the fourth charge, which relates directly to Dio. It accuses Caelius of attempting to poison Dio at the house of Lucceius."

  "What about the actual murder, the stabbing at Coponius's house?"

  "Technically, that's also included. But Publius Asicius has already been acquitted, an
d the prosecution is wary of trying to prove the same case against Caelius. Instead, they want to concentrate on the earlier poisoning attempt. Of course, I'll find out what I can about the stabbing at Coponius's house, as a corroborative detail."

  "And to satisfy your own curiosity."

  "Of course."

  Eco pressed his fingertips together. "A politically charged trial, held during a holiday when Rome will be packed with visitors, with Cicero's estranged protege as the accused and a scandalous woman in the back-ground—this could turn into a spectacle, Papa."

  I groaned. "All the more reason for my misgivings. All I need now is for some of Pompey's or King Ptolemy's strong-armers to come banging at my door, warning me to back away from the investigation."

  Eco raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that's likely to happen?"

  "I hope not. But I have a bad feeling about the whole affair. As you said, there's an odd smell to it. I don't like it."

  "Then why not back away? You don't owe Clodia any favors—or do you? Are you telling me everything that happened in her tent today?" He affected an insinuating smile.

  "Don't be absurd. I owe the woman nothing but the retainer I left with. But I do feel an obligation."

  He nodded.

  "To Dio, you mean."

  "Yes. I refused him to his face when he asked me for help. Then I talked myself out of going to the trial of Asicius —" "You were sick, Papa."

  "Yes, but was I that sick? And then, when Asicius was acquitted, I told myself that was the end of it. But how could it be the end, with no one convicted of the crime? How could Dio be at rest? Still, I managed to shun the obligation I felt, to shove such thoughts to the back of my mind—until yesterday, when the gallus arrived to bring me face to face with my own responsibility. It was Clodia who summoned me, but it wasn't only her."

  "Her brother Clodius as well?"

  "No, I mean to say that those two are only the agents of something larger. It begins with Dio, but where it ends only time will tell. Some greater power seems determined to pull me into this matter."