The Mammoth Book of Roman Whodunnits

by Mike Ashley (ed)

  I thought I could see what was coming next. "But when you went to get the coins he switched the knife?"

  Calvus looked at me indignantly. "I am not quite a fool," he said. "Of course I realized that he might do that. But equally he couldn't let me take it till I'd paid. In the end he offered to put it in the box, under my very eyes, and get one of the townsfolk to sit on it — in full view of everyone — until I came back. I couldn't see the flaw in that. I even picked out the bystander — a young man I slightly knew — so there was no possibility of fraud."

  "But . . .?" I said. There had to be a but.

  "I don't know how he did it to this day, but somehow he played a trick on me!" Calvus groaned. "I got the money: came back: he opened the box and gave me the knife — the only one there was. I was delighted. But when I got back to the inn and went to use the blade — merely to cut a piece of barley-loaf — I knew at once that it was not the same. Oh, it looked identical — ornate carved handle and everything — but it hardly cut. I took it to the ironsmith straight away — his shop is not so very far away — and he tried to grind a decent edge on it — but to no avail. It was just useless, and I'd paid a hundred denarii for it! I've discarded better knives than that!"

  I was beginning to feel quite sorry for the man. "So what did you do then?"

  "Went back and confronted him, of course — he was still packing up his things — but the crowd had drifted off by then and he just laughed at me. I was not going to put up with that. I called on the aediles, the market police, to have him charged before the magistrates that day."

  I nodded. Though a vendor is not liable under the law for the quality of what he sells, a purchaser can sometimes get his money back if he can prove that he was wilfully deceived. "What happened?" I said sympathetically. "Did he avoid arrest?"

  That is not unknown. It is the responsibility of the man who brings a case to ensure that both he and the accused appear in person at the town curia before noon on the appointed day, otherwise there's no case to be heard. Not as easy as it sounds, if the accused is reluctant to appear!

  Calvus surprised me. He smiled, a little bitterly. "Oh, I'd paid the aediles. It cost me something, naturally, to have it all rushed through like that, but they seized him and dragged him in before the trumpet blew. They made very sure of that."

  I could imagine that. The market police are armed, and since they are on the first step to higher things — anxious to be noticed by the authorities for their efficiency. They would ensure that Nicodemus came to court "before the trumpet blew".

  That was often the hardest part of all. The Romans have this convention of dividing the hours of daylight into twelve equal parts and calling the resultant divisions "hours" — (and the same thing for the hours of darkness too). But since most of us humbler citizens have no water-clocks, "the start of the seventh hour" is hard to calculate. So, to mark the official middle of the day, a trumpeter comes out onto the courthouse steps and blows — and if you come in after that, you're late. But it seemed that hadn't happened here.

  "Did he find some legal quibble, then? Persuade them that they needn't hear the case?"

  "On the contrary," Calvus said bitterly, "They heard the case. I lost, that's all."

  "But you had witnesses?"

  "That was the trouble, in the end. Nicodemus didn't deny the knife was valueless. Instead he turned the whole case on its head. That was the knife that I'd contracted for, he said contracted properly in front of witnesses — 'Do you solemnly swear to buy this knife for one hundred denarii?' — Which, of course, I had. He didn't ask me to swear the contract till I brought the money back. So technically it was that knife that I'd agreed to buy, whatever it was like! The magistrates simply laughed at me and threw me out of court — and I had to pay the aediles all the same. It cost me every coin I possessed."

  I frowned. "But you did pay?"

  "Of course."

  "Then I don't understand. This was months ago. Why are you in prison now?"

  He gulped, and I thought for a moment he was going to cry. "This is a much more serious affair. They arrested me today. I'm charged with robbery on a public road. Nicodemus's revenge, I suppose."

  No wonder he was looking so distraught. If they found him guilty now, that was a crucifying offence. It cost me the remnants of the wine, which he seemed to require to fortify himself, but in the end I got the story of the day.

  Calvus had been at his Glevum market stall, as usual when who should come into the market-place, but Nicodemus, with his box of knives. Calvus was busy with his customers and couldn't leave the stall, but he watched, and it was exactly the same as in Corinium. In no time at all a crowd had formed, and Nicodemus was selling off his knives. Even the patter was identical.

  Calvus watched till he could bear no more. The memory of Corinium was still raw. He left his brother-in-law to mind his stall again and made his way to where the cutler was. Nicodemus was selling hatchets by this time — but Calvus noticed there was still a single knife left in the box.

  "The same knife?" I interrupted.

  "I'm sure of it. The box had been repaired, but the knife looked just the same. I would have known it anywhere — that carved bone handle — it was a work of art. I intended to wait till he began to show it off, and then announce that it was not for sale."

  "Because it had been forged in Vulcan's furnaces?"

  "Perhaps it was. The way it sliced through everything, it was miraculous. But then someone started bidding for the knife, although the hatchets had not all been sold. The price went up and up, just like before. I don't know what came over me — I was still furious at being made to look a fool. I started shouting that he was a cheat, and people turned to look at me. But the man bidding for the knife was too intent. Then Nicodemus looked up himself. He didn't even recognize my face. It was too much. I strode over and picked up the coloured blanket from the ground, tipped up the box, and sent the whole stand flying." Calvus looked animated, even now, recalling it.

  "So he called the aediles, this time?" I suggested.

  Calvus shook his head. "He had no need to call them, they were there. And I was ready with my story too — and then Nicodemus realized who I was. And that's when he sprang his next surprise. He claimed that after the trial in Corinium, when he'd won, he'd gone off to the baths to celebrate before he set off for an oppidum, a little village several miles away. But no sooner had he started on the road, than someone came up behind him silently, held a dagger to his ribs and pulled the outer folds of his turban down around his eyes, so that he couldn't see. Then his attacker dragged him off into the trees, stripped him of his purse, pulled off his robes, and left him tied up against a tree. When he came back to his handcart again, he found it had been ransacked, and his knife-box broken into and dashed on the ground."

  "It had two compartments, I presume?"

  Calvus stared at me. "How did you know that?"

  "What other explanation could there be? And what about the knife? The proper knife, that is?"

  "He must have had it hidden somewhere else. In any case, it seems it wasn't found. He had it this morning in the market-place, so who knows where it was? But his purse was taken, and he was attacked. And of course, he claims that it was me."

  "And was it?"

  Under the bruising Calvus turned an ugly shade of puce. "I've been telling them all morning that it wasn't me. I don't have a dagger, anyway. But of course, I'd half-condemned myself by shouting out — in front of everyone in the market-place today — that he'd cheated me in Corinium. And then I turned his knife-stall upside down. That made me seem a violent man. And then he said he recognized my voice."

  "Does he have any proof that he was robbed that day?"

  Calvus laughed bitterly. "Apparently. A soldier from a passing unit heard his cries — that's how they came and found him stripped and tied up against the tree. The whole detachment thought it was hilarious. No doubt they could be found as witnesses. Oh, Nicodemus was attacked, all right."r />
  I was calculating rapidly. "And what time did you leave Corinium?"

  He looked abashed_ "That is the trouble, citizen, I can't be sure. A little after the trial finished I suppose. After I'd spent my money at his stall and paid the fine, there was no point in staying any more. In any case, I'd hired a mule — and I had to return that before the town-gates closed."

  "That might be important. Where did you hire the mule?"

  He gave me the name. Stortus Maximus. I knew the man. He kept a hiring stable just outside the walls. Most of his animals were old and wheezing — as he was himself — but they were cheap. And Stortus was a decent sort of man. He bought his mules and horses broken-down, but he looked after them — some of them went on for years and years. And he was honest too — the town wags said he lacked the intelligence to cheat.

  "Very well," I said. "I'll see what I can do. I'll go and talk to Stortus now. And Calvus, when they question you again, give them the answer but say as little as you can. Otherwise you'll talk yourself to death."

  He had turned pale now. "What do you mean?"

  I looked at him. "You say you had no dagger, Calvus, but you had a knife. You spent all your money on it, didn't you?"

  He looked sullen. "That! It would hardly cut a loaf o' bread."

  "But a man could hardly see that from behind. Take my advice, Calvus, watch your tongue. Nicodemus is a cunning man. He'll twist your words, just as he did before. Now, I must go if I'm to save your skin. Guard!"

  The warder was opening the door, almost before the word was out. "All right, Citizen? He isn't causing any trouble here?"

  I shook my head. "Not at all. But you may show me out and take him to the cells."

  From the pathetic look on Calvus's face, he must have hoped I'd somehow contrive to free him then and there. But naturally there was no chance of that. I left him to his miserable lot, and made my way — with some relief — back to the freedom of the world outside.

  The soldier at the gate grunted a greeting as he let me out. "There's a message for you from His Excellency. You're to call on him, and tell him how things stand."

  "I will," I promised, but I did not go direct. I went first to where Stortus kept his mules.

  It was a tumble-down affair, merely a sort of large roofed wooden shed, with a lean-to shack at the back of it. Stortus was with his animals, as usual, giving them fresh water and grooming down their coats, although he stank like a manure-heap himself.

  He listened to my question carefully. "It is a long time ago," he said. "But let's have a look. Calvus the butcher — let me see. I gave him old Fatty, I'm sure of it." He went over to the wall, close to a stout little mule with baleful eyes, and looked at a series of scratches he had made. "Here we are. Just before the Ides of Augustus. Just as I thought, he brought it back on time. That's before the shadow reaches the eleventh hour, on the sundial on old Gauss's tomb out there."

  He gestured, through the open door, towards the monument. The dead town-councillor had ordered the dial to be built so that every time men looked at the time, they would recall his name.

  "That's the time I close the stable door, and settle my beasts for the night. If anyone brings in an animal after that, I charge them for an extra day. That makes them prompt, of course. Naturally, it's more difficult when it's cloudy, like today. Then I just have to guess. All in the contract that is. Here you are, that's my mark for him. Two days — he had it overnight. So he was back in time. That's definite. And it was sunny weather then, as well."

  I thanked the old man, slipped him an as or two and hurried off, almost as glad to be away from him as I had been to leave the prison earlier. I hoped my tunic hadn't absorbed the smell, as I hastened to the centre of the town, where my patron still maintained a suite of rooms over a wine-shop near the square. I thought of going home to put my toga on, but decided that there was no need for it. I had been visiting the prison, and was already late.

  Marcus had me shown into his presence instantly. He was dressed for banqueting, in a toga of dazzling whiteness, set off by the glow of rubies at the clasp and his most glittering rings on either hand. In my smelly tunic, I felt peculiarly ill at ease.

  "Well, Libertus, my old friend," he said. The voice was not unkind, but the greeting troubled me. When I am "his old friend", I'm alarmed. "This is about Calvus, I presume. Have you succeeded in releasing him?"

  "Not yet, Excellence," I confessed. "But I think I may have evidence which helps. Who will be presiding in the Calvus case?"

  Marcus frowned. "Probably the ambassador from Rome, since he is here. This is a capital offence, so it will fall to a senior magistrate."

  I thought of my unfinished pavement piece. "He has arrived then?"

  "I am entertaining him to a feast tonight. He is at this moment in the guest room here, preparing for the banquet with his slaves."

  I was thinking rapidly. "He has come straight from Rome?"

  "Via Londinium and Corinium, of course. He wished to see a little of Britannia. He has never ventured to the northern provinces before. He is quite favourably impressed. You know what rumours circulate in Rome."

  I did. Marcus himself had come from Rome originally, and he never tired of telling me about the wonders of the Imperial capital, and how things were different there. However, had now learned what I'd been hoping for. "In that case, Excellence, there is hope. I believe he will dismiss it out of hand. And if the ambassador presides at the case, the populace cannot accuse you of favouring your own clientes, which they might otherwise have done. Calvus is not a very well-liked man."

  His face cleared. "You may have a point. I imagine the Ambassador won't mind — and here he is, in fact. Perhaps you would like to speak to him yourself."

  The man who was entering the room looked what he was, a man of power. Not only was he elaborately dressed, he had that well-oiled, sleek, self-satisfied air that the rich and favoured always seem to have. He looked at me with something like disgust. I feared a whiff of Stortus hung about me still.

  Marcus caught the look and hastened to explain. This was his apartment, after all. "This is one of my clientes, Ambassador," he said. "He is a citizen, despite appearances. He has been engaged in an errand on my behalf — and would like to have a word with you." I was not an "old friend" now, I noted with a smile, but Marcus was doing his best for me.

  The Ambassador gave me a frosty smile. "About . . .?"

  I had not meant to be catapulted into this, but suddenly there seemed no escape. I took the plunge. "About a case, your Mightiness, that you are scheduled to try tomorrow at the courts."

  "That cutler who was set upon and robbed," Marcus put in. "I think I mentioned it to you earlier."

  "You did!" the Ambassador said loftily. "It seems to be a cut and dried affair. The man identified his assailant, I believe, in front of witnesses."

  Marcus looked at me.

  "Ah!" I said. "That is just the point. He identified the voice, but not the face. He didn't see the man who tied him up and took his purse. Calvus seems a likely suspect, I agree. He had a grievance, and he had a knife. But did he have the opportunity? We know there was a trial in Corinium — which began just before the seventh hour. They got there just before the noonday trumpet-call, and no doubt the court officials can confirm the fact."

  "Well?" the Ambassador demanded testily.

  "And then, by the knife-seller's own account, he went off to the baths. It was only afterwards that he was robbed, when he had set off later from the town."

  "Well?" again.

  "But I have witnesses to prove that Calvus was back in Glevum before the end of the tenth hour. There is no doubt. He hired a mule, and the owner is prepared to swear to it." I sent up a mental prayer to all the gods that no one sent for Stortus to enquire. I did not know that he was "prepared to swear" at all, and he would not make an impressive witness if he did. "And Calvus was back at his market-stall at dawn," I hurried on, pleased to have thought of it. "Anyone in the town will tell you
that — which proves that he was back before they shut the gates."

  The Ambassador was looking at me with interest.

  "Ambassador," I said, "You came that way today. You know how long it takes to travel between Corinium and here. And you were in a swift imperial gig. This man was on a mule. How could he be outside Corinium at — what? — the ninth hour at least, and be back here in time to manage that?"

  "By Hermes," the Ambassador exclaimed. "I do believe you're right. It took me three hours at least to make the trip. It would have taken a man on mule-back more." He scowled. "If this is true, I shall have this Nicodemus flogged and fined for wasting the court's time."

  Marcus stepped forwards as if to intervene, but caught my eye. "And Calvus the butcher? What of him?"

  "We'd better hold him, since he is arraigned. But see that he has fairer lodging, overnight — on my authority. Tomorrow we'll hear what Nicodemus has to say. It is preposterous. Attempting to identify a robber by his voice."

  "As you say, Excellence," I murmured.

  Marcus said, "I'll send a messenger to the jail at once — if you would seal the order, Mightiness." He nodded to one of his attendant slaves. "Fetch me some bark and writing ink at once. Best octopus, none of your watered soot." The boy scuttled off to do as he was told, and Marcus turned to me. "Well done, Libertus. Wait here for the letter and you can deliver it."

  I did more. Once Calvus was released into the jailer's house I found the inn where Nicodemus was. That wasn't difficult. The whole town was abuzz with news of this colourful visitor. Nicodemus eyed me doubtfully.

  "I have a warning for you, knife-seller," I said. "The Ambassador from Rome is here, and he has heard about your case. He has unchained Calvus, on new evidence, and plans to have you flogged and fined when you appear."

  Nicodemus laughed. "Don't be foolish, townsman. I have proof. The man threatened me in court, and robbed me afterwards."

  "You will find it hard to prove," I declared. "Of course, you know the law — it's clear you understand it very well, that's why you make your contract as you do. But if this comes to court, I promise you, I will be a witness in the case. And I will tell them, if Calvus does not, how you have two sections to your box. You put the good knife into one, get some simple bystander to sit on it, then sell the poor knife from the other side. Isn't that the case?"