It bothered me a little at first. But then I thought, it’s his business after all, and if he doesn’t want to speak about it, where’s the harm? I stopped worrying, and by the time the general’s wife came to stay in December, he was more or less part of the furniture.
Now I know I brag about the Oak Tree, but this was the first time we’d had a general’s wife as a guest. Plenty of other army types, yes, but high-ranking officers’ ladies are normally much too grand for us, and stay in private villas with acquaintances along their route.
So I was delighted to welcome Lady Caelia, even though she arrived two days before the Saturnalia holiday, and I’d been looking forward to a quiet time without overnight guests. She was gray-haired, with a nose like a beak and an air of formidable authority. She explained that she was on her way to Eburacum, and had planned to make her next stop with acquaintances further along the main road. But her entourage—three bodyguards and a maid—had all developed serious stomach upsets, having eaten oysters at midday. They did look like death warmed over, and were, as she put it, “as useless as wax javelins.” She’d been forced to break her journey at the Oak Tree.
The lady herself, who said she never ate oysters, was in excellent health, and she gave her instructions crisply. “We’ll need breakfast early in the morning. I intend to reach Eburacum tomorrow come what may, to be there for the holiday. I’ve told my people to go straight to their beds so they are fit to leave at dawn. And they won’t need anything to eat. They can have a little well-watered wine, nothing else.”
“You’d like a full dinner yourself, my lady?”
“Certainly. What have you got to offer?”
“Chicken with leeks and carrots, followed by spiced plums. And some excellent Gaulish red wine to wash it down.”
“Good. Now just one more thing. Among my baggage there’s a large leather saddlebag, which I’d like stored in a locked room, please, with a guard posted outside all night. It contains something extremely valuable.”
The bag was bulky and heavy—full of gold, perhaps? If so, it must be a consul’s ransom. I locked it in one of our outside storerooms, and asked Fronto to stand sentry for the night. He agreed readily, commenting that it was the sort of easy job he could do with one hand tied behind his back.
When I reported back to Caelia and told her about Fronto, her face lit up, and she smiled.
“The Single-Handed Soldier? Really? What’s he doing here?”
“He’s been travelling about doing odd jobs since he left the army. He’s staying with us till the better weather.”
“He served under my husband. I used to know him quite well.” Her eyes had a faraway gleam. “An extremely brave soldier, and rather a dashing one, though a bit of a rogue. If he’s looking after my baggage, I’m content. My husband gave me strict instructions to keep it protected at all times. He was supposed to deliver it himself, but he broke his leg in a riding accident last month, and the task has fallen to me. It’s a Saturnalia gift from Caesar for the garrison commander at Eburacum, who happens to be a kinsman of ours.”
“Am I allowed to ask what the gift is?” I was born curious, and she could only say no.
She smiled again. “It’s a marble bust of the Emperor Domitian himself.”
“How very—ah—generous.”
“Indeed. The commander will think it’s more precious even than gold…if he knows what’s good for him. And in fact, there is some gold in the saddlebag also, but only a small amount, which is mine.” Her smile broadened. “But how extraordinary that Fronto will be guarding it! When I’ve finished my meal, I think I’ll pay him a visit. Just to check the security arrangements.”
Naturally I accompanied her—you can’t let grand ladies wander about in the dark alone, can you? As we went outside, I wondered just how well Caelia had known the dashing Sergius Fronto in the old days. There was something about her smile… But when we got to the locked room, the tall figure on guard wasn’t Fronto, but my handyman Taurus.
Caelia was annoyed. “Why isn’t Fronto here? Where is he?”
Taurus explained that Fronto had gone to fetch a heavier cloak, because the night was turning even colder. “I think we’ll have snow,” he said. “Those clouds…”
“Never mind. Tell him I’ll expect to see him in the morning.”
Later, before going to bed, I went out to check that Fronto had returned. He made a suitably fearsome figure, wearing a thick sheepskin cloak and carrying a huge cudgel.
“Lady Caelia came specially to see you,” I said. “She was sorry to miss you.”
“Taurus told me.” He lowered his voice. “To be honest, I’d rather we didn’t meet.”
“Oh? She says she knew you well, when you served under her husband.”
“We… It was a few years ago now.” He didn’t meet my eye.
“Fronto, is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Let’s just say sometimes a gentleman should know when to be discreet. I’ll avoid her if I can. What’s in the bag, did she say?”
“A valuable present from Caesar. More precious than gold, apparently.”
“I’ll look after it, never fear. Sleep well now.”
But none of us slept for long. In the night a thunderstorm blew up, and it woke me. Jupiter, the king of the gods, must have been holding a triumph, or throwing a tantrum, or both; there was almost continuous lightning, and peal on peal of thunder. Our buildings were solid enough, but the din was bound to be upsetting our horses. Reluctantly I left my warm bed, pulled on a heavy cloak and boots, and went outside to check.
I was amazed to find that it was snowing. I’d never known snow and thunder together, and the strange effect of the blue lightning on the white flakes made me want to stop and stare, but I couldn’t linger. I could hear, even above the storm, that the horses were scared, stamping and calling to each other.
As I reached the stableyard, I saw something that stopped me dead in my tracks. A light where there should have been darkness…flames showing through the window of one of the tack rooms. Fire. My worst nightmare!
It had started well away from the horses’ stalls, but if it spread, the whole wooden building could go up like a torch. The animals were close to panic, and they weren’t the only ones.
I yelled out “Fire! Help here! Fire!” But my voice was lost in the driving storm. For a few heartbeats I stood paralyzed with indecision. I needed to rouse help, and I needed to get the horses out of the building fast, and I couldn’t do both at once.
A flash of lightning showed me a tall cloaked figure hurrying round the corner into the yard.
“Fronto, thank the gods! You’ve seen the fire?”
“I smelled the smoke. I’ve woken the stable hands. I’ll fetch more help, we’ll need it.”
“Yes, wake everyone. I’ll start leading the animals out.”
We soon had plenty of willing helpers, and Fronto himself was a tower of strength. He seemed to be everywhere at once, organizing and encouraging. Having led the horses out of danger into the big paddock, we made a human chain to bring buckets of water from the well, and by dawn we had the flames under control. By then the snow and the thunder had stopped too. We’d lost a good half of the stable block, and quite a lot of hay and equipment, but no people or animals had been hurt.
As things settled down I went looking for Fronto to thank him. If he hadn’t been there to help…I wondered fleetingly how he’d managed to be on the scene so quickly. Never mind, he had managed, and I was extremely grateful.
He wasn’t at his post outside the storeroom, and the door was locked. Could he be inside? I called his name a couple of times, but there was no answer. I was slightly irritated. Whatever his reservations about meeting Caelia, he shouldn’t have left this room unguarded.
Caelia herself came to stand beside me at the door, and didn’t waste time on greetings
. “Where’s Fronto? I thought he was supposed to be on guard here.”
“He has been, but perhaps he’s gone to change his clothes. We had a fire last night.”
“Yes, they told me. I’m sorry to hear it. We’re ready to leave now, so I’d like my saddlebag, please.”
“Of course.” I produced my own key and unlocked the door.
The room was empty. There was no Fronto, and no saddlebag.
I stood staring, shocked into silence, until Caelia said sternly, “So much for your promises of protection. Caesar’s gift is gone. My money is gone. Stolen, presumably. By Sergius Fronto.”
“No, it can’t be. Someone must have broken in here in the night when he was fighting the fire.”
She looked skeptical. “The door was still locked, and there’s no indication that anyone has entered the room by force.” She was right. But still…
“Who had a key? Apart from yourself and Fronto?”
“Nobody.”
“So it must have been Fronto.”
“I suppose so. But I’d never have believed…”
“Quite. However, what we believe is irrelevant. The facts speak for themselves. What do you propose to do to recover the bag?”
My mind raced. I should have paid more attention when Fronto said he didn’t want to meet Caelia. I’d let myself believe there was a past romantic connection, but perhaps it was something more sinister. Could he have a grudge against her? Was he paying her out by stealing from her?
At least it was easy to see what we must do. “He can’t have got far. He was about the place at first light, I can vouch for that. Luckily it hasn’t snowed since then, so wherever he’s gone, he’ll have left footprints. We’ll send every available man out searching. Your guards too, please.”
It didn’t take long. All the men had to do was find tracks heading away from our buildings and follow them. One set led to Fronto, crouching in a thicket in the woods about a mile away. Caelia’s chief guard brought him back into the stableyard, and I was relieved to see that he brought the saddlebag too. “He’d left this along the way,” the guard said. “Must have got too heavy for him.”
My relief was short-lived. While a servant went to fetch Caelia, who had gone back inside for warmth, I unfastened the saddlebag. It contained a large cloth-wrapped bundle, Caesar’s present presumably, but no gold. The money was still missing.
Caelia’s voice rang out as she strode across the yard. “And who, pray, is this? Because it certainly isn’t Sergius Fronto.”
I gaped at her. “Not Fronto? But of course it is.”
“Don’t argue with me. I know Fronto. This man seems to have suffered the same disability, but he isn’t Fronto.” She addressed the captive. “You’re an impostor, aren’t you? You’ve no right to the name or the reputation of the Single-Handed Soldier.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and his reaction surprised me even more. He might have been angry if she was wrong, or ashamed if she was right. Instead, he merely smiled at her.
“No, my lady, I’m not Fronto. You of all people would know that.”
“Then who are you?”
“Helvius Maximus. Fronto was my comrade and my best friend.”
“Helvius Maximus… Ah, yes, I remember you now. You were in that final ambush with him?”
“I was. He saved my life. We left the legion together.”
My astonishment was quickly followed by anger and disappointment. I’d liked this man, I’d trusted him, yet he was not only a thief, but a fraud as well.
“So then, Helvius Maximus,” Caelia continued relentlessly, “what have you done with my gold?”
“I don’t know about any gold. I took that bag of yours because I thought it must be valuable, but then it was too heavy to carry far, and I left it. I never looked inside.”
“I don’t believe you.” She turned to her guards. “He must be carrying the coins. Search him.”
They stripped him and thoroughly examined his clothes and boots, but they found nothing suspicious. I watched him, mildly curious. Naked men are no great wonder, but this one had jealously guarded his privacy. Now here was his false left arm exposed to full view, fawn cloth cover stretching from shoulder to hand. A clever piece of wood, I thought, fitting snugly by his side, so lifelike in shape. It couldn’t be solid, surely, it would be too heavy for him to carry all the time.
Then I knew. If that wooden arm was hollow, it would make a perfect hiding place. I looked round the yard and spotted Taurus carrying a bundle of tools. I beckoned him over, took his long saw, and pointed it at the soldier. “I’ve realized where those gold pieces are hidden. They’re tucked away inside that wooden arm of yours. Get them out now… or I will.”
“No! It’s solid, this arm is, I swear it. Solid timber.”
“We’ll see, shall we?” I stepped up close to him, and told his captors to keep tight hold of him. “I’ll saw through this. It won’t take long.”
“No, please!” His face had gone ashen pale. “Don’t take my arm away. Please!”
I placed the blade squarely across the cloth cover, just above the elbow. I began to saw at the arm, and it wasn’t easy, because the teeth caught in the cloth, as they do in rough tree bark. But I persisted. Back and forth went the blade, once…twice…
“All right!” he shouted. “You win. Take that thing away, and I’ll show you.”
I lowered the saw and stepped back.
With his right hand he fumbled under his left armpit, loosening the straps there. He pulled sharply, and I thought the whole arm would come away, but instead he peeled back the thick cloth cover, stripping it right down the arm and over the wrist and hand. As he did so, a rain of gold coins cascaded out from all along the inner arm, where they’d been concealed beneath the cloth.
And under that cover was a perfectly ordinary flesh-and-blood arm. I found it far more shocking than the wooden one I was expecting.
Caelia was the first to recover her voice. “Well, that’s something, I suppose. Gather those coins up and let’s go inside.”
I sat everyone down in the bar, and one of the maids brought warmed wine, and a spare blanket for Fronto, I mean Helvius. He was shivering with cold, and drank gratefully, and it was strange watching him warming his two hands round his beaker. His left arm was paler-skinned and thinner than his right one, and as I looked at it, my anger returned. But before I could tell him what I thought of him, Caelia took charge.
“So, Helvius, you admit you’re a fraud and a thief?”
He shrugged. “I can hardly deny it, can I?”
“Where is Fronto now?” Caelia asked.
He sighed. “He’s dead. I’m sorry. I miss him.”
“I’m sorry too.” She paused and wiped a hand across her face, as if to tidy a loose strand of hair, except there wasn’t a hair out of place. “How did it happen?”
He sipped some wine. “We stayed together after we left the army, we even tried to settle down. We had a farm for a while, but we didn’t take to it. We didn’t want to be stuck in one place for the rest of our lives. We went travelling, picking up casual work. All over the place we went. It was a good life, and it suited us.” He shook his head sadly. “But last year he took fever and died. We were in the far west, where nobody knew us. So I buried him there, and then I—well, I became Fronto.”
“But why?” I asked. “Why give up the use of your arm when you didn’t have to?”
“That’s easy,” Caelia answered. “My husband arranged a special military pension for Fronto, as a reward for his bravery. You couldn’t tell the army about his death, could you, Helvius? Otherwise the money would have dried up. You despicable little worm, stealing from a dead hero.”
“We were friends, he wouldn’t have minded. And it wasn’t just the pension, you know. I saw the way old Fronto was treated. Wherever we went, h
e got the best of everything. Free drinks, free food, and the women—he could take his pick. Everyone tries to help a wounded soldier.”
I could vouch for that. I felt a fool for having been taken in, and yet, in spite of everything, I couldn’t dislike the man entirely. He’d worked honestly for me, and last night he’d saved my horses.
Helvius sighed again. “I reckoned the chances of meeting someone who’d known either Fronto or me were pretty remote. Seems I was wrong.”
“Wrong in all respects,” Caelia said severely. “You’re a thief, and you’ll be punished as one. You’ve stolen a pension from the army, and the reputation of a hero. And you’d have taken Caesar’s gift and my gold, if it hadn’t been for the fire.”
He nodded. “I wanted to disappear before morning, because once you saw me, my game would be up and no mistake. I was about to ride away last night under cover of the storm, but then the fire started, and I couldn’t.” He looked, of all things, embarrassed, and took a long swallow of wine to hide it. “I couldn’t do that to Fronto.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Maybe I’ve not been completely honest. Fronto wouldn’t have minded that. But running away, that’s something different. That’s dishonorable. He didn’t desert his friends when they were in trouble, and I couldn’t either, when I was pretending to be him.”
“But if it hadn’t been for the fire?” Caelia asked.
“Oh, then I’d have got clean away. The snow would have covered my tracks, and you’d never have found me. After all, you’d be looking for a one-armed man.” He finished his wine and held out his mug for a refill. Automatically I poured it. “But I missed my chance. I couldn’t take a horse in broad daylight. I started walking, which meant I had to dump the bag after all, and only take the coin.” He looked at Caelia. “I’m sorry, my lady. I was wrong to steal. And wrong to take Fronto’s pension.”
The Book of Extraordinary Amateur Sleuth and Private Eye Stories Page 18