"Good dog. You"re safe now with us... Who hurt you, girlie?"
Nux put a hot black nose against my palm. Normally this was disgusting, but I let her snuffle.
Albia, whom Helena and I had first met saving the lives of some dogs in a building fire, stood up from bending over Nux. "Are we sure it was not you, Marcus Didius?"
I was shocked. "Don"t even think that!" I stared at the girl. Her early life had been brutal; we forgot that a little too readily. She still had a lot to learn about trust, and when to apply it. "Nux is a mongrel with appalling habits - but she"s mine. I took her in from the streets just like you, Albia, I thought -" but did not say it.
Gaius and Cornelius were watching us too closely for comfort.
Albia said uncomfortably, " Young Glaucus thinks you kill people."
"I don"t know what his father told him to make Glaucus believe that."
"Uncle Marcus was in the army," said Cornelius, trying to convince himself that excused anything. He was right too.
"Uncle Marcus looks like a comedy clown, but he"s secretly dangerous!" Gaius chortled.
I had had a hard day. "Stop it, all of you."
"Who was there when the man fell?" demanded Albia sternly. She had at least learned from Helena and me how to address a puzzle. I rose to my feet awkwardly, and fell on a stone bench. At that moment I was hardly the heartless exterminator they wanted to believe. I must have looked as I felt. washed out, depressed, and fending off feelings of guilt.
Since I had not answered her, Albia repeated her question. I forced myself to say, "All that"s known for certain is that I left Nux with the freedman, who went over the edge."
"So did Cleonymus like dogs or not?"
"No idea."
"We can ask someone," Albia decided. "If he hated them, he could have kicked Nux."
"Cleonymus was sitting with Nux perfectly peacefully when I left them."
"And was Nux happy with him?" the girl asked me, intently.
"I would not have left her otherwise."
The last thing I had expected this evening when I came home, was to find myself hemmed in by this bunch of suspicious interrogators. Gaius and Cornelius had gathered around, like Albia more concerned about Nux than the human fatality.
"Someone else came up the hill and attacked Nuxie," Gaius declared.
Albia rounded on him. "How do you know that?"
"It"s obvious." Cornelius backed his cousin up. "Some horrible man hit Nux, then the freedman yelled out, "Leave our dog alone!" He was trying to defend her.
"When this other man pushed him right off the cliff. Gaius announced. "Don"t you think so, Uncle Marcus?"
"It is a possibility."
"Or someone attacked Cleonymus, so Nux got hurt trying to guard him. Yes, that sounds like the answer," Albia informed us. "How are you going to find the man, Marcus Didius?"
"Well, I asked all the bystanders for details at the scene," I admitted weakly. "But we were all very busy trying to get to Cleonymus.
"It"s too late now!" Albia snapped with great impatience. "If you go back tomorrow, you won"t find the same people. You don"t know their names.
"I took names," I protested weakly, waving my note-tablet.
"Probably false! Even if they live in Corinth, they won"t want to get involved."
"Human nature."
"If you do find that man, I hope you kill him," whispered Cornelius, sounding wistful. He was still sitting cross-legged by the basket, patting Nux.
I had to rouse myself. I told them that we were obliged to ascertain first what had really happened - then we could apprehend any killer. I said that Greece was a civilised province. That the Areopagus, the homicide court at Athens, was the oldest in the world and would deal with the man. I maintained I would follow the proper procedures.
Maybe it was true.
"Anyway, I am the head of this group and I am fed up with you three bossing me. I am very tired. Now please leave me alone."
Nux knew that today she at least could take liberties. She climbed out of the basket, letting us see how much it hurt, then limped over to me, begging to be picked up. I took her on to my lap, where she curled up, gave a queenly sigh, and went to sleep with her snout pressed under my elbow. Albia and the boys looked on approvingly.
Not long afterwards, Helena appeared through the inn gate. She too observed my position as dog-plinth with an affectionate smile for both Nux and me. Then she led in a companion who was playing shy. It was the Sertorius daughter. At the girl"s approach, both Gaius and Cornelius behaved like Aventine lads. They a.s.sumed she was after their bodies, so they rushed from the scene. Albia looked hostile, but she wanted to hear what this was about, so she said nothing and stayed.
Tiberia was a pale thing who seemed nervous, though I suspected she was devious. We had seen her lurking about with her brother at the Bay Mare, taking too sly an interest in my investigation. Our own Albia was listening in here, but her presence was open, her curiosity frank.
Tiberia had mousy fair hair, pulled back tightly in a ribbon, which she continually untied and tied up again. Her skinny body and long legs had been dressed in a rather mean white tunic. One of her sandals had a broken strap. It made her look neglected by her mother, though perhaps she enjoyed rejecting improvements. (I was a father; I found myself increasingly p.r.o.ne to a.s.sume that parents meant well but their children were difficult.) Like many girls her age, she bit her nails. Her fingers were small and childish, her features younger than her age. I put her at thirteen. I bet she stared at boys and dreamed of them, but if anything male looked back at her, she had no idea how to react.
Albia had taken against her and was showing it. Helena pushed Tiberia forward, nudging her. "Go on. Tell Marcus Didius what you came about."
Tiberia had other ideas. She hung back, leaning against Helena, head down awkwardly. I heard Albia growl in her throat. I took a firm line. "We are all feeling a bit sad here. Come on please, don"t be girly. Let"s hear it, Tiberia."
Given another unsympathetic shove by Helena, the girl spoke her piece. Her voice was almost too confident, though its tone was languid. "It"s just that, well, after you told us about Cleonymus, I heard you say you were going to see Phineus."
"So?" It was probably too curt, but I had had enough that day.
"Why did you want to see him?"
"Never mind - what"s the interest for you, Tiberia?"
"Oh... nothing."
"That"s soon dealt with then." I showed I had lost interest in her. It worked.
"I don"t like him," she whispered.
"He"s not my type either." I tried softening my tone. "What"s he done to you?"
Tiberia squirmed. I gave her the sceptical gaze I reserve for when I am too tired to bother. Deep questioning was out. She could tell me if she wanted to, or go to Hades. "I don"t like the way he always helps you on to the donkey."
Helena finally helped me out. "Hands everywhere?" Tiberia nodded gratefully. "Is that all he does?" Again a nod. It could have been much worse, though to a girl this young, the man"s behaviour could a.s.sume monstrous significance. "I suppose," suggested Helena, "you don"t like what happens, but you feel there is nothing specific to complain about?"
Again Tiberia nodded hard. Phineus would deny there was any wrongdoing; he would suggest the girl had made it up, for all the wrong reasons - or that she was over-sensitive to perfectly normal behaviour.
Helena loathed gropers. She encouraged Tiberia to open up more. "It happens, but I always hate it too. If you say anything, men like that have a habit of suggesting you are a prude. n.o.body ever takes it seriously - but we do, Tiberia."
"No sense of fun, he"ll say," I contributed, myself now sounding more friendly. "Sarcastic references to the Vestal Virgins..." There was a risk the women present would suppose I shared the Phineus view. Maybe once I would have done.
Tiberia went pink. "My father said I had imagined it." b.a.s.t.a.r.d. If she had been one of my daughters, Phineus would be for it. But Sertorius was more gauche than he would admit, and people in general conspire to ignore such a situation.
"I expect your mother knows the truth," said Helena gently.
"Mother hates him too. All the women do."
"Did Valeria Ventidia hate him?" I asked. "Had he bothered Valeria?"
Tiberia nodded. That was an excuse to fiddle with her hair again. By now I was ready to strangle her with the d.a.m.ned ribbon.
"And is he just over-familiar? As far as you know, he never takes it any further?" checked Helena. When the girl looked puzzled, she specified, "For instance, does he ever try to get you to meet him secretly?" Tiberia looked really alarmed. "Just a suggestion. Don"t worry about it. He won"t ask and even if he did, you wouldn"t go, would you?... Well, thank you for telling us this."
"What will you do?" demanded Tiberia. Her voice still had that languorous note, but she was pleading with me, wanting rescue.
"That"s for me to decide, when the moment is right," I said. "As for you, if any man annoys you in that way, try shouting loudly, "Don"t do that!" - especially when other people are present. He won"t like to be shown up in public. And the other people may be shamed into taking your part."
Tiberia went off, looking as if she had wanted more reaction. I did not expect her to be grateful for my good advice, but I hoped she would follow it.
Helena joined me. I tweaked her nose. "It"s not like you to make me handle that confrontation, fruit."
"I could tell that she would slouch and pose and play with her hair," Helena admitted, unabashed.
"Hmm. What were you like when you were thirteen?" I grinned, though I wished I had known her then.
"More direct! She irritates me so much, I knew I was going to bungle it." After a moment Helena asked, "Do you believe her?" I acknowledged that. "So is it significant?"
"Probably," I said.
x.x.xVII.
The worst part of my job has always been attending funerals. If it"s a victim, I feel angry and sour.
To my great surprise, Cleonyma asked me to officiate. I had been expecting her to involve Amaranthus. Still, we knew she and Cleonymus had only met him that season, and although we had seen them so much together, apparently she viewed the relationship as temporary.
Helena reckoned that I represented authority. She said it without irony, but I was not fooled. I suggested to Cleonyma that we ask Aquillius Macer to a.s.sist me. She agreed. Aquillius looked horrified but could hardly refuse. So Cleonymus, who had once been a slave, was dispatched to his ancestors by an imperial informer and a patrician diplomat.
Marinus and Indus organised a whip-round to cover a feast. The collection was fixed up with great efficiency; well, they had already done it twice before. Cleonyma provided her dead husband with a good send-off and a magnificent memorial stone; that would eventually be placed on a public building which she planned to donate to the city, thus recording and celebrating Cleonymus for all time.
The ceremony was held in the grounds of the governor"s residence. The governor himself was still away on his milestone jaunt, but all the group turned out, together with Phineus. He had come up with an undertaker and musicians, though I know Cleonyma paid for them. Aquillius and I performed our duties without a hitch. He cut the throat of the sacrificial sheep; he did it with dispatch, looking perfectly cool. Afterwards he told me that a down-to-earth uncle had given him lessons in ritual when he first stood for the Senate. Knowing that he would be called upon to officiate at public sacrifices, a professional priest had been brought to the family"s Campanian villa; Aquillius spent a whole day learning, until half a flock had been slaughtered and Aquillius could butcher anything with four legs.
He was, however, terrified of public speaking, so it seemed fair thatI should compose and deliver the eulogy. I found enough words of praise, and I meant them. The widow wept gently. She thanked me for what I had said; although I still felt like a fraud to be taking the lead role, it was better than most of the alternatives. I still had not told her I suspected that Cleonymus had been murdered, though I wondered if she had guessed it for herself.
Cleonyma went through the day calmly. She supervised the start of the feast, though I noticed she ate and drank nothing. Once the meal was under way, she slipped outside. Feeling no joy in feasting, I followed her. The residence had the usual elaborate but slightly sterile garden, everything doubled, everything surrounded by miniature hedges, long pools lit by tiny lights to prevent people splashing into them, a subtle scent of jasmine wafting everywhere from unseen climbing plants.
"Well, I got through it, Falco!" To my amazement I could now tell Cleonyma was pretty drunk. All day, I had never seen her take a drop. "Now you"re going to tell me, aren"t you?"
"Tell you what?"
"What really happened to my husband."
So then I told her what I knew for sure and what I suspected. For a while she stood considering. "Yes, I thought it must have been like that."
"Any ideas about this "well-dressed" man, Cleonyma?"
"You think it"s Phineus."
"I can"t prove that. He denies it - Of course, he would do," I said quickly.
"He fits," she replied, with an air of resignation.
"Well, if it"s possible to show he did it, or that he caused any of the previous deaths, I"ll do my best for you."
"I know you will. You"re all right, Falco. Cleonymus and I both thought that from the start."
"Thank you." I waited a beat, then tackled her. "Look, I don"t want to distress you, especially today, but I think you"re tough and you want real answers. Can I ask you some questions?" She made a gesture of acquiescence. "When Cleonymus and I were walking up the crag, he started to talk to me, but our conversation was never finished."
Cleonyma shrugged, as if she were expecting this.
First I asked about Marinus and Helvia. She confirmed that Marinus was a confidence trickster, preying on rich women. There was nothing more to say about that, except on this tour he had not yet found a mark. The richest single woman in the group was now Cleonyma herself, and she was wise to him. He would make a play, she thought - and she would tell him what she knew about his past, threatening to turn him over to Aquillius. She joked that maybe she could blackmail Marinus. At least, I thought it was a joke.
When I asked about Helvia, she gave a low chuckle. Although Helvia appeared a befuddled innocent, Cleonyma reckoned she was doing exactly the same as Marinus. The wobbly widow was an accomplished manipulator; men always underestimated her. Helvia moved from province to province, relieving unwise male protectors of thousands. The woman friend she had mentioned, who no longer travelled with her, had in fact been so taken with Helvia"s success, she went into that line for herself, when a dimwit from Crete fell for her, while she was acting as Helvia"s chaperon.
"How do you discover all these nuggets, Cleonyma?"
"They think I"m too boozy to notice what they"re telling me."
"Do you do anything with the information?" It seemed best to check up.
"I just enjoy it." Cleonyma paused, with a sad little smile. "I shall miss that."
"Oh don"t deprive yourself! Will you give up on travel?"
"Won"t be the same without him. No, Falco; I"ll go home - when you and Aquillius let me. I"ll settle down and be a menace. Miserable and sober."
"Try not to be miserable. He would not want that for you."
Cleonyma looked rueful. "Being a party girl is hard on your own. And there will never be another for me."