Venus In Copper

by Lindsey Davis

  'Where do you fit in?' Felix asked brusquely.

  'I can continue to act for you privately. I'm so angry about this, I may beat the Praetor to the truth.' As businessmen I hoped Crepito and Felix might contribute the local Praetor's name; no luck. 'There was no way I could prevent this,' I told them levelly. 'But I shall not rest until I have exposed the poisoner. Severina has to be the prime suspect. My next move is to interrogate her. I'm intrigued to hear she was an absent guest tonight?'

  'She gave some excuse to Novus,' Felix said.

  'But she was here earlier?' Both Felix and Crepito shrugged, 'Well, if she thinks being off the scene is enough to clear her, I'll have news for that young lady!' Once again the two freedmen made eye contact.

  A silence fell, which warned me to disappear. 'I'll be on my way... Ought I to see Sabina Pollia and Hortensia Atilia first?' I hoped to witness the ladies' first reactions to the tragedy.

  'Not necessary,' Felix replied, with a curtness which just fell short of hostility. He rang a bell to reinforce the message.

  'Fine! Well, I will call again tomorrow of course. I want to pay my condolences in person... By the way,' I asked in a neutral tone, just as I was leaving. 'Were relations between you and Novus fairly friendly this evening?'

  For once, they avoided looking at each other; in fact the rigidity with which they kept their eyes fixed ahead was suspicious in itself. Both solemnly assured me the party had been relaxed and harmonious.

  Thanks to Viridovix I knew they were lying. Which raised an interesting question: why?

  I guessed there would be some vivid debate later that night in the Hortensius house. I wished I could overhear it. I wondered what part the two women who employed me would play.

  But in the meantime I was speculating on something else: how I would face Severina with news of this crime.

  It was only then, as I walked south through the streets full of delivery wagons, trying to avoid having ray toes crushed under a cartwheel, that a thought I had been too busy to frame consciously finally found space to present itself: what was the point of it?

  Hortensius Novus had died too soon. Severina had no hope of inheriting his fortune, except as his wife. At this stage in their affairs she would be lucky to get a sack of apples and his kind regards. Whatever was the woman playing at?

  Chapter XXXVI

  Most of Abacus Street lay in darkness. A few dim lights showed, but the passage to Severina's accommodation was pitch-dark; I stubbed my toe on a bucket left outside the cheesemakers. Her house itself looked dead.

  It took a quarter of an hour to rouse one of her slaves. I tried to attract attention discreetly, but I could only batter the metal knocker continually. The noise must have carried all over the Caelimontium, though no one threw open their shutters to investigate or protest. How unlike the intolerant types I knew on the Aventine!

  The slave recognised me; he made no comment on the time. Perhaps Severina knew other men who called on her during the silent hours. As he admitted me I noticed the house seemed muffled, with few lamps lit, all apparently at rest.

  I was left to wait in the room where the girl and I first met. The work on the loom had been changed to a new pattern. I glanced at a library scroll lying on a couch: something about Mauretania. I lost interest. I was listening for movements elsewhere in the house.

  The slave put his head round the door curtain. 'She'll come down,' he muttered grudgingly.

  "Thanks. Tell me,' I asked, 'have Novus and Severina fixed a date for their wedding yet?'

  'Ten days' time.'

  'When was that agreed?'

  'Earlier this week.'

  'So Novus may have announced it to the world at large tonight?'

  'She'll be down!' the slave reiterated, giving me a caustic look. He could tell that I was just firing off ballista bolts in the dark.

  I never heard her coming.

  She was tricked out as if the slave really had roused her from her bed: unshod feet; bare-armed in a short white undershirt; face slightly puffy; the drift of that coppery hair all spread loose down her back. She probably had been in bed: lying awake, waiting for a messenger to bring the news.

  'You've got some talking to do, Zotica!' She met my bald scrutiny and held my gaze, I expected that. There would be no faltering from this one. 'Novus is dead.'

  'Novus?' She said it, quickly, then frowned as if confused.

  'Did you know?'

  'Dead?' she repeated.

  'Keep it up, Zotica! I teased insultingly.

  Severina drew an indignant breath. 'Do you need to be so brutal?' She came into the room, putting hands to her face. 'What has happened? Tell me properly,'

  'I found your intended tonight, face down in a lavatory. Poisoned, Severina. Don't tell me this is unexpected news.'

  She bit her lip when I mentioned the details, but she was angry now. Excellent. She walked over to a couch and sat, apparently shivering. 'What time is it, Falco?' I had no idea. 'The question people always ask,' she murmured abstractedly, 'when time no longer matters anyway...'

  The stricken look failed to convince me. 'Cut the pathos! What kept you from the dinner parry?'

  Her face clouded. 'I was feeling unwell, Falco. Women's problems.' Her chin came up defiantly as she hugged her stomach. 'You know what I mean!'

  'Or I'm supposed to be too embarrassed to ask? Forget it! I grew up with five sisters, Zotica. Victorina was the prize artist--she could make "a bad time of the month" last three weeks, especially if there was some boring religious festival she wanted to miss.'

  'I did go up to the house this afternoon,' Severina said shortly. 'But in the end I could not face a long evening of strained formality among people who make no secret of their dislike for me--'

  'Yes; you would need courage--to recline alongside your victim while he sampled the poisoned sauce!'

  'That's slander, Falco!' she fought back. 'I went to reassure the cook. Novus has been fussing ever since he sent cut the imitations --' I noticed she used the present tense, the way people continue to do after a genuine bereavement: a delicate touch! 'It was a big responsibility for Viridovix --'

  'Whatever possessed Novus to buy himself a Gallic cook? If a man must have a chef from the ends of the Empire, surely he turns to Alexandria?'

  'You know how they are in that house--their captive "prince" is a novelty.'

  'He's certainly a rarity: he makes the best of things.' I could see this temporary diversion was making no impression, so I abandoned it. 'Tell me about tonight's party. Why the grand performance? Who were the guests?'

  'Appius Priscillus.'

  For a moment I was at a loss. 'Oh the property tycoon! The beater-up of fruitsellers. What is his link with the Hortensius crew?'

  'Same interests. Leasing; property; land use. Relations between their two empires had deteriorated badly. They were all acting against their own interests by prolonging the rivalry, so the dinner party was suggested to resolve their differences.'

  'Who suggested it?' I asked, frowning. I already knew.

  'I did. But, Falco, bringing them together was your idea originally... Excuse me a moment.' Severina murmured abruptly. She looked as if she was going to be sick.

  She slipped from the room. I gave her a few minutes, then set off to look for her.

  Intuition led me into an anteroom alongside the gracious triclinium where Novus and I had been given lunch. Severina stood motionless in the darkness. I held up a lamp I had carried in with me. 'Are you all right?'

  'So much to think about.'

  I stepped closer carefully. 'Zotica?' Her intense quiet and fixed gaze were signs of true shock. For a moment she stood with one hand to her forehead. Then she started to cry.

  Restraining my annoyance, I said, 'The first rule of an informer is: women who burst into tears are up to no good.'

  'Keep out of their way then!' Severina snapped. I put two fingers under her elbow and moved her to a couch. She sat down, without arguing, then turned a
way and sobbed.I perched alongside and let her get on with it. 'Sorry about that,' she murmured finally, bending forwards to mop her face on the skirt of her shift. I had a glimpse of knee, which I found oddly distracting.

  She breathed slowly, as if coming to terms with some unexpected trouble. She was obviously acting. She had to be. I remembered the Praetor's clerk Lusius saying that Severina was naturally undemonstrative under stress, and friend Lusius had seemed observant enough. Vet I still felt that the need to release all this emotion had been partly genuine.

  'I hope you've got your story composed for the enquiring magistrate.' She stared ahead, still in a kind of trance. 'Better still,' I suggested, 'why not tell your nice Uncle Marcus exactly what happened, and let him take charge?'

  Severina sighed, stretching her minute feet in from of her. Her feet, and what I could see of her legs (more than usual), were freckled; so were her bare arms, 'Oh leave it alone, Falco!'

  'You are not going to talk to me?'

  'If I did poison Novus, certainly not!'

  'Did you?'

  'No. Juno and Minerva--if all I wanted was his money, what would be the point?'

  'I had thought of that'

  'Brilliant! So what twisted explanation have you come up with instead?'

  'I feel certain that you killed him--but I have no idea why.'

  She had jumped to her feet. 'Didius Falco, you have no reason to be here! Either arrest me, or go away--'

  'What are you doing, Zotica?'

  'I'm fetching a wine jug from the dining room--then I intend getting drunk!'

  My heart was pounding out a warning--but I told myself this might be the only chance I ever had of persuading Severina to say something indiscreet. 'Oh sit down, woman!I'll get the jug. Take some advice from an expert: getting drunk is quicker, as well as much more cheerful, if you have a friend to help!'

  Chapter XXXVII

  Why do I do these things? (Why does anyone?)

  I found cups on a sideboard, and a half-filled amphora of something which tasted brash enough for the kind of deliberate drinking which is bound to make you ill. Severina fetched a ewer of cold water. We did not bother with flavourings. Our mutual suspicion would provide a bitter spice if we needed it.

  We ended up sitting on the floor, leaning our heads against a couch behind us. At first we drank in silence.

  Even after five years as an informer, finding a corpse always unsettled me. I let the memory come surging in as it was trying to do: Novus, bare-buttocked in that undignified spasm. Novus, pressed face-down against the floor slabs, with that expression of stark terror...

  'Are you all right, Falco?' Severina asked quietly.

  'Murder offends me. Like me to describe the death scene?'

  I noticed that her knuckles whitened as she gripped the stem of her ceramic cup. 'I can probably endure it!'

  I had told her the worst of it. I spared myself dwelling on any more details.

  Severina topped up her winecup. We had been serving ourselves--not letting formal manners interfere. It was like drinking with a man.

  'Do you do this often?' I asked.

  'No!' she conceded. 'What about you?'

  'Only when the memory of the headache I had the last time has faded ...'

  'If we are going to do this, shall I call you by your first name?'

  'No.'

  She chewed the side of her thumb for a moment, 'I thought you were my nice Uncle Marcus?'

  'I'm Falco--and I'm not nice.'

  'I see! Drunk but distant!I She laughed. Whenever Severina laughed she sounded arrogant--and that irritated me. 'I think you and I have more in common than you admit, Falco.'

  'We have nothing in common!' I splashed more liquor into my cup. 'Novus is dead. What next, Zotica?'

  'Nothing.'

  'What was the wrong word. I should have asked, Who?'

  'Don't be so offensive!' she told me--but she said it with a half-smile and a glint behind these pale eyelashes. She was daring me to ask fiercer questions. Interrogation was a thrill.

  I knew better than to fight a suspect who so loved to be the centre of attention. Instead, I stretched lazily. 'Never again, eh? Sounds like what I always used to say, when some flighty piece took my cash and broke my heart.'

  'Past tense?' Severina immediately wormed at me, unable to resist prying.

  'Too old. Flighty bits want boys, who go like fire in bed and let themselves be bossed about --'

  'You're romancing, Falco,' she scolded, as if something had suddenly made her more wary. 'Why can you never hold a straight-forward conversation?'

  'I get bored,' I admitted. 'That straightforward enough?'

  We both fizzled with tipsy laughter.

  Severina was sitting cross-legged, with her back very straight. She was on my left. So I had lolled with my right knee bent, supporting my winecup hand. It enabled me to turn inwards, and watch her unobtrusively.

  She filled her cup again. 'I'm drinking more than you!'

  'I had noticed.'

  'You intend to stay sober, so you can winkle out my secrets...'

  'I like a woman with secrets --'

  'You don't like me! Stop inventing... I should have asked,' she murmured, with what she probably thought was a sly approach, 'if anyone is waiting up for you at home?'

  'No.' I drained my cup. The action was more drastic than I intended; I nearly choked.

  'You surprise me!' she taunted in a soft voice.

  When I stopped coughing I said, 'You were right the other day; I overreached myself.'

  'Tell me!'

  'Not much to tell. One of us is yearning to settle down and start a family; the other wants to stay footloose.'Severina looked uncertain, as if she missed the joke. 'Women are so feckless!' I complained. 'They can't take the responsibility --'

  'So how will you entrap her?' Severina now joined in the game, though with a scornful expression.

  'I have my methods.'

  'You men are so devious!'

  'Once she discovers my wonderful cooking and my sweet devoted nature, I'll tie her down . ..'

  'Does she help you in your work?'

  'You asked me that before. I keep her out of my work.'

  'I wondered if you sent her to spy on people in places you can't go?'

  'I'd never let her go anywhere I couldn't go myself.'

  'How considerate!' Severina said.

  We had both stopped drinking and were staring ahead like crass philosophers. The effect of a harsh young grape-pressing on top of the subtle Falernian I had quaffed earlier, not to mention the smooth dinner wines Titus had served up at the Palace, was beginning to make me wonder if it would be possible to stand upright when I wanted to, Even Severina was now breathing drowsily.

  'A night of revelations!'

  I grunted, feeling bilious. 'Bit one-sided so far! The plan was that I would open up, then lure you into a confession...'

  'Plan, Falco? You won't wheedle confessions out of me by such a transparent trick as getting me drunk!'

  'You got yourself drunk.'

  'I hate you when you're logical.'

  'And I hate you--Oh forget it,' I sighed. 'I'm too tired to rise to the challenge of cheap dialogue.'

  'You're falling asleep!' Severina chortled next. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I just wanted her to think so. (Perhaps I could no longer help myself.)

  When I made no answer she tipped back her head, groaning. Then she pulled from her finger the red jasper ring with the two hands clasped; she tossed it wryly in the air, caught it, then set it down beside her on the floor. A spark seemed to leap from the gemstone to glint in her hair. Her action was not irreverent, yet obviously marked a formal end of her betrothal to the dead man. 'Nothing left to do ... no one who needs me ... no one to turn to ... What is it all for, Falco?'

  The jewel she had removed looked almost as heavy as the one Novus himself had worn: far too massive for Severina's fingers, which were tiny as a child's. 'For profit, lady! That ring at
least was a decent piece of gold!'

  Severina moved the jasper ring dismissively on the mosaic, 'Gold wears thin. Like the love it pretends to represent'

  'Some lasts.'

  'Do you really believe that?' she demanded. 'Does your famous ladyfriend?'

  I laughed. 'She's a realist. She keeps me on a short rope,just in case.'

  After a moment Severina lifted her right hand, showing the cheap ring with a crudely etched Venus and a small blob that was meant to be the Cupid nestling her knee. 'Now copper--' she declared obscurely, 'that's for eternity!'

  'Eternity comes cheap! Did you know, copper is named for the mountains of Cyprus, where the oxhide ingots come from?' I collect obscure facts. 'And Cyprus is the birthplace of Venus, so that's why copper is the metal of Love --'

  'It gives you verdigris in the soul, Falco!' she murmured.

  'You ought to see a doctor about that.' I refused to ask her what she meant. There is nothing you can do with a woman when she wants to be mysterious. 'So who gave you the copper ring?'

  'Someone who was a slave with me.'

  'He have a name?'

  'Only among the Shades in the Underworld.'

  I smiled wryly. 'Like so many of your friends!'

  Severina leaned to collect the flagon. I raised my palm in protest but she shared the last of the wine between us.

  She sat back, slightly closer. We drank, slowly, both deep in the glum privacy that passes for thought when drunk.

  'I ought to be leaving.'

  'We can give you a bed.'

  What I desperately needed was untroubled sleep. In this house I would lie awake expecting a mechanical ceiling to lower itself and crush me ... I shook my head.