“No, thanks.”
I moved on, feeling sluggish, with a vague notion that I would revisit Clodia’s mother. Instead, as I went by a soft furnisher’s, I happened to spot two customers, one of whom was Sabinilla. The sewing workshop was a typical hole in the wall with shutters, which were currently rolled back. The business was carried on inside, while people were shown curtains and cushions in an area they commandeered out in the street.
I went across and said hello. Sabinilla was the one with whom I had had a brief but real conversation about sisters. I thought her most likely to give up useful information, though I was not hopeful. She introduced the other woman as her stepmother. She was deciding between tasselled bolsters; when she had a couple carried farther down the street to check colors where the light was different, Sabinilla and I sat on stools and waited.
“She brought me out to shop, hoping it will clear the air. It’s very sweet of her.” Sabinilla seemed distracted; she had been a mix of hostile and meek with her stepmother, who was now lost in a critical decision about fabric swatches. But I supposed her remote air was because of my work.
“Looks as if you mean to spend well!” A pile of stuff was already waiting to be paid for. “Look, I’m glad we met today, Sabinilla. Can you help me out with something?” Before she had time to dodge, I asked, “Did you hear about the boys’ prank with the statue?”
Sabinilla almost looked relieved that I wanted nothing else. “Word got around. The fathers are all furious. Is it true someone has Numerius in a dungeon?”
“Not quite. But he has to stay until their souvenir comes back.”
She giggled. “That’s silly!”
“No, Sabinilla. Having a virile statue helps the owner makes his living. That merry prank by your friends means the lettuce-seller may starve.”
“Oh, I see. Yes, I suppose for him it’s actually quite important then.” Easily contrite, Sabinilla named the culprit as Granius. Numerius had fingered him too. I advised her if she saw Granius to persuade him to hand in the stolen trophy before the current heat became hotter.
“Tell me about Numerius. I met him yesterday; we had a pleasant talk, though he was not entirely sober. I cannot work out what’s going on with him. Was he tied to Clodia, and was she really yearning for him?”
Sabinilla applied her trustworthy look, the one I distrusted most. “Flavia Albia, the thing about Clodia was, she was too young for anything. All she did was hang around, staring gooey-eyed at men. She even watched her brother when he used to be with us, not watching in that way, but just fascinated because to her he was grown up.”
“Publius was good with her?”
“Publius has a heart, actually. She was his little sister and he loved that, even when she was a pain. He thought it was hilarious when she started making doe eyes at his friends. Of course no man is going to stop it. They enjoy being lusted after, even if they wouldn’t dream of making a response.”
“Was it lust? For her?”
“Oh, only in a baby way.”
“With Numerius, things got as far as talk of marriage?”
“Oh that was just Publius. He and Numerius are the best friends in the world and had thought it would be very funny if they became brothers-in-law. When the arbiter started kicking up a fuss, they soon dropped it.”
“And where does Anicia fit? I thought she had been spending time with Vincentius, yet Numerius seems to be making a play there while Vincentius seems to know nothing about it? You come over as a woman who knows, so I just thought I’d ask you privately…”
“I don’t want to betray a confidence.”
“Of course not!” If they could lie, I could do it too, and I was a more practiced actor. “Sabinilla darling, it is only to help me avoid saying the wrong thing. Nothing will go any further, absolutely.”
Darling Sabinilla did not hesitate. “Well, Anicia and I are not very close, not any more, because I’ve tried but I cannot forgive her for being a real cow to me when I said I didn’t like the way she always tries to control and manipulate people, but she has actually talked about it, quite a lot actually, and I know she likes Vincentius—she really likes him. He is completely flirtable and actually quite nice too.”
“Redempta liked Vincentius as well?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?”
“It’s the same as for Anicia—big parent trouble,” Sabinilla complained.
“Oh, parents!” I rolled my eyes as if mine were equally tiresome. (Sorry, Mother!) “Nobody trusts his background, I suppose?”
Sabinilla looked vague and said possibly. Even when she straight away amended this to absolutely, I had the impression she knew nothing about Vincentius coming from a criminal family. “So,” she told me, “Redempta decided to split from Vincentius after too much home hassle, whatever it was. Her father divorced her mother, there was a lot of stress, so now he lives on his own in the country and Redempta never sees him—well, hardly ever. I think he is in Rome this week, actually, and she is supposed to meet up with him, but that situation makes her mother and auntie think they must be terribly strict with her because, you know, she has nobody to look up to as her authority figure.”
I managed to hear this without batting an eyelid. “So now Anicia is with Numerius?”
“Well, yes she is, though the situation is confusing, because I met her at the manicurist’s and we talked about it, and she says she is pretending so she can keep carrying on with Vincentius without anybody noticing. Anicia likes to be a woman of mystery. She is just so transparent.”
“You don’t like her, Sabinilla?”
“Well, yes. But no. I feel I ought to make an effort because we had a very special friendship for a long time.”
“So nice of you to try … I heard that Vincentius will never commit himself.”
“That’s just him, he says. He cannot change. He may like someone genuinely but if a pretty girl talks to him, another girl, although he is supposed to be with someone else, he always accepts the attention. He says it would be rude not to.”
“You all change partners frequently. You’re young.” I played along. “That’s how it needs to be. Going back to Clodia,” I threw at her, “she idolized the rest of you? Was she following your lead and finding a new friend? Has everybody got her wrong? I wonder, was Numerius all in the past for her?”
Sabinilla nodded. I could see she at once regretted it.
This was news. I snapped in, “Who was the new dream?”
But the stepmother had solved her cushion dilemma. She came back to us. At the same moment Sabinilla clutched her stomach; jumping to her feet, she asked the serving woman to be taken to their lavatory. She rushed off quickly.
I might have thought it was a ruse, but her stepmother seemed unsurprised. “Tummy upset. I gave her something. It must be working!”
It sounded as if she meant a laxative, which I found odd. Most digestive problems call for a binding agent.
*
We waited. Sabinilla was gone a long time.
We got into conversation. The stepmother was comparatively young, given that I knew she had three children. She had a sweet pussycat face, but with the air of someone who made the best of things, when the things she was dealing with might not be ideal. An immaculate dresser with a pleasant manner, she looked effortlessly in control of the shopping expedition. My guess was she would have ruled at home, but there was an aggressive male there.
I let it come up that Sabinilla had been helping me with the complex love lives of her friends. The stepmama replied that she could not possibly involve herself. This was excellent. The best people for me are those who claim never to gossip. She launched into indiscretions instantly.
Vincentius was a source of anxiety for all the parents. Cluvius, the ringleader, was a nasty piece of work. Granius was envious. The Volumnius boy had been thick, no way to deny it. Of the girls, little Clodia had been trouble in the making, Redempta had an evil streak, Anicia was unspeakable, Umm
idia was a dark horse.
“Your Sabinilla seems to have a good relationship with Popilius?”
“Oh, no. Who said that? All over.”
I was surprised. “Why?”
“Out of the question. Too close. Her mother married his father when she divorced my husband.”
Change and change about among the elders too, then?
I did quick sums. Popilius, as I remembered him, was as handsome, crass and annoying as all the other boys. Although he stared at waitresses, as many boys and men believe they should, I had seen him target Sabinilla for intense stares. He looked slightly older than her, so if they did not share a mother, what was the problem? With no blood relationship, this was not incest … Or did her mother and his father have history even before they married?
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
Stepmama screwed up her face. “I cannot comment. Do not ask me what went on there. I will not be drawn. That’s marriage, isn’t it? You come as an innocent young bride, you have no idea what you are walking into…”
She might have said more and I was dying to hear it, but we saw Sabinilla coming back to us, with the saleswoman supporting her. She looked deathly white.
“All over?” asked her stepmother briskly. Sabinilla nodded. Her hair was lank, her skin damp; there was a complete change in her. “Trust the happy powder. Let’s get you home then. You’re lucky to have me to fix you up!”
The girl was hustled away into their chair. Concerned for her as she tottered off, I called goodbyes but did not delay their departure.
I stayed on, telling the woman I myself was a new bride with my own home to furnish. Use the truth. If nothing else, you may get to buy something.
After spending up on a fine silk couch cushion, I said quietly, “It was kind of you to look after that girl. I think we can guess what has gone on there…” The shop owner stayed tight-lipped, a discreet saleswoman. I did not press her, well not too much. “You would never expect them to come out shopping on such a day.”
My companion could not help herself: “Did it on purpose. Didn’t want the servants knowing!”
My assessment had been right then. Sabinilla had been pregnant. Now, presumably, she no longer was. Her stepmother must have realized the situation, or even been confided in, so she had arranged a solution; she had provided an abortifacient.
I wondered where they bought the powder. I could guess. From the woman who had wisdom about herbs: Pandora.
XXXVII
My head had cleared, but after that scene with Sabinilla, my thoughts were buzzing.
It was no surprise to me that these girls were promiscuous, and foolish with it. I still thought it unlikely that Clodia Volumnia ever reached that stage, though. I ruled out any pregnancy in her case, though if the friends she so admired were engaging in casual sex, all the more reason for a girl her age to have been kept at home.
I now had a picture of the life young Clodia had led—somewhat different from the idyllic portrait first given to me by her father. With this new realistic view, I firmed up my plan to reinterview her mother.
When I walked into the greenery-shadowed courtyard after battling past the janitor, I recognized a chair, with two bearers lounging. Too late, I saw Laia Gratiana entering Marcia Sentilla’s apartment ahead of me. She went in on her own. Her brother had remained in the chair with its door open, picking his teeth. When he leaned out to spit, he saw me. I went over to greet him, which temporarily spared me from Laia.
Claiming social equality, I addressed him informally. “Lucius Salvius!”
I had met him previously. Fair-haired and light-skinned, Salvius Gratus was dapper and officious. His sister had lived with him since her second husband died; although he was less abrasive, for me he was tainted by association. As a businessman on the make, he was due to be married for the usual cynical reasons. Tiberius and I knew from a recent election that he had a politician’s morals.
He found the manners to congratulate me on my own marriage and express sympathy over the accident to Tiberius. He said the right things. A tolerant person would think he wasn’t bad.
I am not tolerant. Still, I managed to thank him and say Tiberius was on the mend. As a courtesy to the man I loved, I did not mention him being in shabby disguise. Had the lettuce booth been open, Laia and Gratus were so snooty they could have visited Min’s and never recognized who was serving them. Instead, I commented on the brother waiting outside Marcia Sentilla’s apartment while Laia made her visitation.
“Household of women!”
I pretended to be sympathetic.
To put off having to endure Laia for as long as I could, I filled time by saying I knew his sister was acquainted with the women here through the cults she had joined; I presumed Gratus was connected with Volumnius Firmus in a different way, so how come? It was through some trade corporation. Salvius Gratus developed and rented out warehouses, so he knew many in the import/export business. Firmus had helped him a couple of times when respectable men “forgot” to pay for their storage space, then argued about it.
This would have been a pointless conversation with a man toward whom I felt no affinity, but then Gratus told me something more interesting. He knew about when the Cestii had also used Volumnius Firmus in a dispute.
“Oh?” I perked up.
Eager to gossip about scandal, Gratus asked had I found out that when Cestius Senior fell out with his neighbor, the person he unwittingly took to arbitration was a famous gangster? They had adjoining farms, up in the Sabine hills. Cestius had acquired his big spread through inheritance; the gangster had presumably bought an equally desirable property using his ill-gotten gains. Instead of lying low, the crook at once started putting in ill-advised field drains. This crime lord was called Rabirius.
That, Salvius Gratus was thrilled to inform me, was why Volumnius Firmus was so set against his children having connections with the Cestii. He discovered who the gangland chief was when, instead of appearing in person, Old Rabirius claimed to be indisposed; he sent a vicious lawyer to act for him, a man called Mamillianus. Oh, him!
Firmus made a settlement in favor of the Rabirii; he was a bonus vir, a trusted mediator, so presumably this was correct. Cestius agreed to be bound by it, as he had to. Firmus maintained to this day that he based his decision on Rabirius being entitled and Cestius making a wrong claim against him. The settlement was amicable, at least on the surface. However, Firmus felt the Rabirii were too dangerous to annoy. He was so afraid of repercussions, he distanced himself from the Cestii.
“I had a long talk with him about it at one of our corporation meetings. Personally, I never found dealing with the Rabirii too bad.”
I was startled. “Salvius Gratus, you deal with them?”
He looked suddenly more ill at ease. “People have to. In my business, I can’t be choosy. I have buildings over this way. If Rabirius or his sister pay the going rate for a legit hire, who needs to argue? Anyway, what’s wrong with selling space to them?” It wasn’t the space, I thought, but what might be put inside it. “Your people would do the same—I’ll bet they do.”
He meant Tiberius and his uncle, who also owned warehouses. I wasn’t too keen on Uncle Tullius, but thought him too canny to mix with the wrong sort. His personal morals were sleazy, but in business he kept his nose clean.
Gratus could tell I had doubts, so he blustered, “Anyway, we were talking about Firmus and his beef with the Cestii. He carried it too far, in my opinion. Not only did he refuse to let his daughter carry on with Numerius Cestinus, he then wangled an army posting for his own boy. To get him away from his friend Numerius.”
“Oh is that why? It had nothing to do with the risks of their Stoic philosophy?” I asked.
“No. It was simple fear of criminality.”
XXXVIII
When I went into the apartment, I thought I heard a scuffle and a door being shut quickly. Someone squealed, then it was muffled. A mad thought came that the old lady h
ad been entertaining unsuitable company, though I discarded it. Her world revolved around family; besides, she was still in mourning. It was all the same to me if a long-term widow took a lover, though I hoped when he ran off with her fortune she would hire me to track him down … Anyway, I was told she was not at home.
Laia was closeted with Sentia Lucretia. I presumed hers was a condolence call, timed for when the first agony of grief was safely over. Was it coincidence that Sentia’s mother happened not to be here? Had the wily old bird seen Laia coming? Had she hidden in a cupboard the way I had done at our house? This thought almost made Marcia Sentilla seem human.
“Flavia Albia!” cried the blonde bugbear. “Here you are. I gather you haven’t been much in evidence so far. How are you getting along with your little puzzle?” That woman should have worked in a soup kitchen: she really knew how to stir.
I glanced at Sentia Lucretia for permission to talk in front of her visitor, hoping she would say no.
“We have no secrets.” She had no sense.
Still, Laia somehow found it possible to keep quiet. Looking better than the first time we met, Sentia listened. I ran through what I had discovered, using a certain degree of tact. “I am afraid I have to tell you Clodia was rather naughty on her last evening. While you and her father were busy elsewhere, she managed to slip out unseen to join friends at a thermopolium. It is respectable; I have checked it out. Her friends say they looked after her. But we cannot avoid the fact she was missing from home late at night, unbeknown to those who were responsible for her safety and well-being.”
Her mother sighed; she said it was not the first time.
This was the woman who had originally praised her daughter’s sweetness and virtue. I suppose mine would have sympathized, saying you stand by your own. Not when you have had to hire an informer to explain a mysterious death, you don’t.
Keeping a neutral expression, I broached the Numerius subject: although Clodia was supposedly heartbroken, I had been told both she and her object of desire were resigned to the situation. It had even been suggested Clodia had found a new interest, though no one specific had been mentioned.
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