A Dying Light in Corduba

by Lindsey Davis

  We progressed through the necessary ritual. I apologised for rushing off. Fuss was made of Helena. There was a swift review of the funeral, including the size of the turnout, the quantity of the garlands, the affecting style of the eulogy, and the comfort of knowing that the departed was in peace. I thought Constans had left behind a little too much unfmished business for that, but in the hope that his sister might be intending to right some of it, I was prepared to extend some charity to the lad.

  Claudia reached the point where she felt she could talk to me. She squirmed. She blushed. I tried to look encouraging. 'Marcus Didius, I have something to tell you,' she finally blurted out. 'I have to confess that I have not been telling the truth!'

  I was leaning forwards, trying to look happy drinking from a dainty terracotta bowl. I stirred my mint tea with a tiny bronze spoon, flipping out a leaf on to the ground.

  'Claudia Rufina, since I became an informer I have talked to many people who have told me one thing - only to realise they should have been saying something else.' Sometimes, in wild moments, I longed for a wiess who would break the pattern and surprise me by croaking - under pressure of conscience or perhaps my own fingers squeezing their neck a little too tightly - that they were sorry to cause me extra work but they had mistakenly given me accurate answers. No doubt adding that it was quite unlike them, a moment of sheer madness, and they didn't know what came over them ...

  'You are not the first person who ever changed their mind,' said Helena softly.

  The girl was still hesitating. 'It is better to have the truth in the end,' I stated pontifically, 'than never to learn it at all.'

  'Thank you, Marcus Didius.'

  There was no point being cruel to her. I could have said, sometimes truth that emerges so late in the day is too late to help. But I'm not that kind of dog.

  'This is very difficult.'

  'Don't worry. Take your time.'

  'My grandfather has forbidden me to talk about it.' 'Then we won't mention this conversation to him.' 'Constans told me something - though he made me promise never to reveal it to anyone.'

  'You must believe it's important, or you wouldn't be here now.'

  'It's horrible.'

  'I thought it might be. Let me help you: has it to do with some violent events in Rome?'

  'You know!' I needed her to tell me. Finally she forced herself to come out with it: 'When my brother was in Rome he was involved in killing somebody.'

  That was more than I expected. All the others were keeping silent and still. I too handled the situation as calmly as possible. 'My dear, you cannot change what Constans did. It's best to tell me exactly what you know. What I most need to hear is who else was involved? And what exactly happened?'

  'It was to do with the plan to regulate olive oil.' Regulate was a nice new word.

  'Did your brother give you details of the plan?'

  'Tiberius and his father were in charge. My grandfather and some other people had gone to Rome to discuss it, though they all decided not to become involved.'

  'Yes, I know that. So be assured your grandfather is safe; he retains his position as an honourable citizen. Now I want to talk about what happened in Rome, Claudia. Your brother was there; he was of course a very close friend of the younger Quinctius? Quadratus was older; they were like patron and client. I already know that your brother, at the request of Quadratus, had arranged a special dancer to appear at a dinner where the olive oil plan was being discussed.'

  'Yes.'

  'Your brother and Quadratus did not attend that dinner. Is this what you want to tell me? Did Constans tell you where they were instead?'

  'They stayed away from the dinner - because of what was going to happen.' Claudia's voice was now barely a whisper. 'There had been a discussion in the Quinctius house about certain officials who were aware of the plan and taking too close an interest. The father...'

  'Quinctius Attractus.'

  'He said those people had to be stopped. I think he meant just pay them some money to go away, but Tiberius thought it wouldn't work. His plan was to hire someone to attack them instead.'

  'Just to frighten them, perhaps?' I suggested.

  Claudia, who had been staring into her lap, now looked up at me. She was a straightforward girl. 'Marcus Didius, I don't believe we should pretend. They were meant to be killed.'

  'Who carried out the attacks?'

  'The dancer, and some men who helped her.' 'Were your brother and his friend there?'

  'How did you know?' I just raised a rueful eyebrow; Claudia steeled herself and finished her story: 'Quadratus persuaded my brother to be present - first when he hired the people to do it. Then - this is the gruesome part - they both hid in the shadows that night and watched as the first man was killed. My brother was horrified and ran away. Quadratus went with him. They got drunk somewhere, and later went home and pretended they had been to the theatre.'

  I replaced my cup on the table in front of us. The tray wobbled; Helena reached out quietly and adjusted it.

  'So Quinctius Quadratus and Rufius Constans were preseut during one of the attacks. Do you know which one?'

  'No.'

  'Did either of the young men strike the victim at all?'

  'Not as far as I know. Not Constans, I am sure of it.'

  I linked my fingers, still trying to sound calm. 'Thank you for telling me, Claudia. Is that everything?'

  'That is all my brother told me. He was hysterical about it. I helped persuade him to go with Grandfather to admit everything to the proconsul - but they weren't able to have an interview. What should I do now?'

  'Nothing,' I said. One step at a time. I might later want to ask her to consider becoming a court witness, but there were difficulties about calling a woman, especially one of refined birth. Somebody male had to speak for her it always weakened the case.

  Helena glanced at me. She had realised that her plan to invite Claudia to Rome might be doubly useful now. We could get the girl there without antagonising her grandfather, then maybe ask Claudia to make a statement for the investigating judge, even if she was never called into court.

  'Have I done the right thing?'

  'Yes. Go home now, Claudia. I shall have to interview Quadratus, but I won't tell him where I learned my information. You need not even tell your grandfather you talked to me, unless you feel you want to.'

  'So everything is all right!'

  Nothing was all right. But we called for her carriage and her armed guards, then we sent her home.

  Dawn is the classic time to surprise a villain, though I never know why. You run a great risk that his doors are locked. While you are kicking them in he wakes up in a sweat, realises what is happening, and gets his sword out ready to run you through.

  It was still early evening. I decided to tackle Quadratus at once.

  Aelia Annaea stayed behind with Helena. Marius Optatus came with me. We took his strongest male slaves, plus Marmarides. I strapped on my sword. The others were armed with whatever came to hand, mostly rakes and sticks.

  The Quinctius estate was much like others I had visited, though it bore signs of the absentee landlord at his most astute: abundant flocks, tended by the fewest possible shepherds, and secondary cereal crops growing below the olive trees. Everything looked in respectable condition. Moneymakers don't neglect their land. Believe me, there was a great deal of land.

  The house had charm and character. Thick walls to keep it cool in summer and cosy in winter. Vine-clad pergolas leading to statues of coy maidens. A separate bath-house. A terrace for airy exercise. It spoke of wealth, yet wealth possessed by an honest country family. Long harvest lunches taken with the tenantry. Girls with pink cheeks and boys who were keen on horseflesh. Life lived with a constant supply of fresh fodder and an old earthenware jug of home-produced wine always ready to hand.

  Amazing. Even their damned house lied.

  We told the escort to wait quietly but to rush in like ravening wolves if we signalled them.
In the event even bringing them proved unnecessary. Quadratus was not there. He had listened when I advised him to take up his job as quaestor. The same day he came home from staying with us he had packed some note-tablets, taken a litter and a pack-mule, a personal bodyslave, clean tunics and a mapskin of the area, then he had told his servants he was going on a surprise tour of the Corduba mines. The procurator whose job was to look after them, and who was probably perfectly competent since he had been appointed by Vespasian, would not be too happy at an unannounced official visit. Nor was I, come to that.

  Our trip to the estate was not entirely fruitless. I sensed that the staff there had almost been expecting me. They were surly and clearly nervous, and eventually one of them told me they had just been about to send over to fetch me from the Camillus farm when I turned up anyway. Somebody had left a message on the Quinctius premises, a message personally addressed to me. I could tell from the slaves' expressions I was not going to like it, even before they led me and Marius to the stable where this mysterious missive had been scrawled on a hitching post.

  All it said was For Falco, followed by a neat pictogram of a human eye.

  Lying on the straw below the drawing was the dancing girl called Selia. She was dressed in outdoor clothes, including a wide-brimmed travelling hat tied on over her own loosely knotted brown hair. She was dead. Her skin felt cold, though her limbs were still limp. She had been killed quickly and neatly by pressure to the neck. It was clearly carried out from behind before she realised what was happening. She had been lying here for a few hours. Unless Quadratus had sneaked back unobserved, the killing certainly happened after he had left for the mines. I could not believe he did it. The method was too professional.

  If somebody was killing agents who had worked for Laeta, that could well mean they would now try to kill me.

  LXI

  Even before I explained what had just happened at the Quinctius estate, Helena Justina had lost the idyllic tenderness she displayed towards me earlier. She was cool. I did not blame her but I could have coped better with solicitude. We were in the garden again. I had hardly even started to discuss what I planned to do next, but we were close to quarrelling.

  'Not the mines, Falco!'

  'Just think of it as a tour of the local industry.'

  'That's what you were going to say, I suppose - had Marius Optatus not told me the whole truth before you could stop him!'

  'I don't lie to you.'

  'You hold things back - if you believe you can get away with it!'

  'I'm a man, Helena. I have to try. I tell myself I'm protecting you.'

  'You're annoying me,' she snarled.

  I said nothing. Pleasing honesty had failed: time to keep quiet.

  'Marcus, I'm in an impossible position now! I don't want you to go - but I don't want you to stay with me unwillingly, just because of my condition; I won't be made an excuse. You'd never forgive me afterwards - maybe I wouldn't forgive myself! Besides, I know just how badly you feel about the mines. You suffered all the torments of Hades once in a silver mine; it's too much for you to volunteer this time.'

  'I won't be digging for ore again. All I need to do is to apprehend Quadratus and haul him back to face a trial. But you're right. I'm not irreplaceable. Someone else can go.' Helena frowned. 'You think anyone else will bungle it.'

  'I don't care.'

  'Of course you care. And I care too!'

  Helena's passionate belief in justice was one of the reasons I first fell for her. Single-minded girls are always dangerous. A man can float along for years being cynical and flippant, then some fierce tyrant (who happens to have the advantages of a sweet mind, a delicious expression and a body that is crying out to be entwined with his) sneaks under his defences; next thing he finds himself taking a stand on some issue he would once have crept away from, simply to impress the girl.

  'I am about to be a father. That is my sole priority.' 'Oh Didius Falco, you have so many priorities you need an abacus to count them. You always did. You always will.' 'Wrong. You're going home, Helena - and I'm staying with you.'

  'Wrong yourself. You have to finish your work.' She had made up her mind now. 'I hate it, but that's the only way. You know I can't bear to see you nobly pretending not to fidget, while all the time you're in agony because the bastard has got away.'

  'I will not break my promise to you.'

  'I release you from it - temporarily. Marcus, I don't complain. You never pretended to be other than you are, and I never dreamed of reforming you. I love your persistence, though you know how hard it is for me just now ... Go and find him, and arrest him. Then dear gods, Marcus -' There were tears she could not resist. 'Please promise that as fast as you can you will come back to me.'

  Tomorrow was the Nones of May. I could still remember clearly that hot night last August in Palmyra which was probably when our baby was conceived. May was only six days old. The child might not be born until the end of the month. I told myself there was still just time to do it all. I told Helena, and hugged her. While she tried not to cry so much that I wouldn't endure it, I in turn kept her close against me so she would not see the gaunt expression on my own face.

  I was starting to hate this garden. Helena must have stayed here when we went over to the Quinctius place, as if she was worried that just moving indoors might start the pains again and cause the birth to begin. Her anxiety only increased mine.

  While I had been absent Aelia Annaea had kindly kept Helena company. She was still here. When Marius Optatus foolishly created a crisis by confessing that he thought I was now intending to ride after Quadratus, Aelia had quickly drawn him off the scene for a walk in the orchard while Helena tore me to shreds. Aelia seemed to be waiting around to give us the support of a friend when we reached our decision.

  Now she walked back to us, leaving Marius. He mooned in the background, as if he had been given definite orders to wait. Aelia Annaea was quiet, but brisk. Owning a gold mine gives a woman distinct confidence. I liked her, perhaps almost as much as Helena did.

  She drew up a folding chair, left from our polite afternoon with Claudia. Smiling, she surveyed our present mood. 'So everything is settled.'

  I scowled unhappily. 'Are you asking us, or telling us?' Helena dried her eyes. 'Careful, Aelia. Marcus hates bossy women.'

  'That must be why he lives with one!' Rich widows can be very provocative. I had suffered clients like this - before I learned to turn them down. She grinned at me. 'Well, I have come to offer suggestions, that is all.'

  Helena and I both gazed at Aelia; we must have looked pretty wan-faced.

  'Marcus Didius has to find Tiberius.' Even now from habit Aelia retained the informal use of his name. 'Helena, if you intend returning to Rome, I think you should start out gently straight away. I have been discussing this with Marius, and I'm going to talk to Claudia. Claudia is very unhappy at home. I think she would like to accept your kind invitation to visit Rome.'

  'I haven't actually asked her -'

  'No, but I will! It will be hard to leave her grandparents so soon after her brother's death, but if she waits she'll never go. The excuse will be that she is accompanying you, Helena; you will obviously need help on the journey. So!' Aelia Annaea was direct and well organised. 'While Falco goes after the fugitive, you can travel very slowly by road. I'm going to come with you myself as far as the Tarraconensis coast. Claudia will be with us too, We shall take my carriage, which is spacious and comfortable, and I will return in it afterwards. This fellow -' She indicated me - 'can ride after us as soon as he is ready, then take you home by sea.'

  Helena looked troubled. 'Marcus may have to attend a court case.'

  'No,' I said. 'If there's a court case it will be in Rome.'

  There were special arrangements for senators-elect. Quadratus would have to be taken back home. There were probably even more interesting arrangements when two different branches of government service had concerned themselves with the crimes. Those arrangements prob
ably featured provisions for silencing me.

  'So!' Aelia Annaea exclaimed again brightly. 'What do you think?'

  I took and kissed her hand. 'We think you're wonderful.' 'Thank you,' said Helena, clearly very relieved. 'Aelia, would you enjoy a visit to Rome yourself?'

  Aelia Annaea looked a little mysterious. 'No, I don't think so at the moment, Helena. I may be busy doing something here in Corduba.' She proudly accepted credit for her solution to our own problem, then stood up again presumably ready to take her leave of us. Since she had originally come with Claudia I asked, is Marius Optatus intending to arrange some transport for you?'

  'I expect so.'