SEVEN
I turned back to the prisoner. ‘You heard her, raeda-driver. We don’t have very long.’ I leaned towards him, settling myself more firmly on the sack. ‘And the facts are against you, as you must see yourself. Let’s just go over all of it again, in case there is something extra that comes into your mind.’ I was convinced that he was hiding something, but I could not see what. ‘You saw Audelia get into the coach, but when the slaves brought down the box you set off without checking that she was still a passenger?’
He looked at me helplessly. ‘I didn’t have to check. I knew that she was there. She was talking to some other people who had come out of the inn — they said goodbye to her and I heard her voice calling to tell me to drive on. And that was it. When we got to Glevum, she had disappeared.’
‘There were no unexpected hold-ups on the way?’
He shook his head. ‘None that I can think of,’ he said reluctantly.
‘Not even for a moment? Not of any kind at all?’
I saw a look of resignation cross the anguished face. ‘Well, now you come to mention it, there was one incident. It was only a few moments, and I cannot see how anyone would have the chance to seize her then, but we did have to stop at one point to let some troops march by.’
So why had he attempted to disguise the fact? The stop made sense, of course. Marching soldiers always have priority — that is why the Romans built the roads, and why they are always called the ‘military routes’ — so all civilian traffic must wait till they go by: it is only by concession that we can use the roads at all. But of course a marching cohort draws the eyes of any spectators, which might create an opportunity for a kidnapper to seize a passenger while everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Yet marching troops are subject to orders from Imperial command. A kidnapper could hardly have arranged that in advance. Or could he?
‘And you did not get down to check your passenger and let her stretch her legs?’ I knew from Marcus that this was sometimes done.
‘I sent the maidservant,’ he muttered, painfully. ‘But she came back and said the removable shutters were across the window-space, and that was a signal that her mistress did not wish to be disturbed.’
‘The shutters were in place?’ The fact was news to me. ‘This did not surprise you? It must be dark in there.’
He was so startled by the question that he tried to lift his head. ‘You are clearly not a raeda-driver, citizen. It’s just what you’d expect. Most ladies prefer to travel with the shutters up — it keeps the rain out in the wet, and in the dry it keeps the dust at bay.’
I mentally conceded that this might be true. I once heard my patron’s wife say something much the same: complaining that on a journey from Aqua Sulis, when they’d hired a coach, the jolting and darkness make her feel quite ill, but it was a price worth paying to keep out the dust.
I was aware that I was uncomfortable myself, from sitting on something damp and lumpy in the sack. I moved my weight again. ‘You did not urge Audelia to get down and take the air?’
The driver answered readily enough, although the effort still made him catch his breath with pain. ‘This was a priestess, citizen. I would not presume to urge her to do anything, and obviously she would not want to let herself be seen. You don’t meet many Vestal Virgins on the road. Common people would have crowded round to gawp when we were forced to stop, even if she’d simply had the shutters down.’
‘Supposing that she was really in the raeda at the time.’
‘But citizen, where else could she possibly have been? If anyone had snatched her, I would certainly have seen. I didn’t leave…’ He tailed into silence.
‘You didn’t leave the raeda? That is what you were about to say, I think. And then you suddenly thought better of the claim. You did leave the carriage for a moment, then?’
His voice, which had not been strong at any time, was faint and laboured now. ‘I suppose I shall have to tell you, citizen. At the time there seemed no harm in it. It was only for a moment, and I left the maid in charge — just while I crossed the road to buy a basket for my wife.’ His eyes beseeched me. ‘Don’t tell Lavinius this, or he will have me whipped to death. I am newly married, and we expect a child, and…’
‘The basket?’ I persisted.
‘The hold-up happened at a crossing point, where there are several little rundown cottages. At one of them there lives an ancient crone who from time to time picks osiers from the stream and weaves them into baskets which she sells at the front door. Lavinius had paid me half the money in advance, and…’ He trailed off again.
‘So you went and bought one, leaving your precious passenger unguarded and alone?’
His tone of voice was almost piteous. ‘It cost no extra time. We had been obliged to stop in any case and it only took an instant — I didn’t even stop to haggle with the crone, I just paid what she was asking. And there seemed to be no harm — when I got back Puella was still sitting in her place, terrified of moving or making any sound lest her mistress should awaken and find more fault with her. I even asked her whether everything was well — and she said it was exactly as it was when I had left.’
Which might be a very clever choice of words, I thought. I was more and more interested in this serving-girl. ‘And when you got to Glevum and found Audelia gone, this girl went missing too? At the same time you think?’
He gave a painful shrug. ‘I didn’t see her vanish, either. She was on the raeda at the front with me and I told her to stay there and watch my basket while I let the horses drink and went and tied them up. I only left her for a moment, while I was doing that. When I came back she was no longer on the cart. I supposed that she had gone to open up the door, but when I got round there I found the bride had gone.’
‘And Puella?’
He looked uncomfortable. ‘She was nowhere to be found — and neither was my basket. I could not believe my eyes. I looked in all directions but there was no sign of them. I did not know what to do, so I found a passing messenger and sent the news to Publius at once.’
‘You did not search for them?’ I was incredulous.
‘Where could I begin? I asked around, of course, but none of the other drivers had noticed anything — they were more interested in the wine-stall that was opening up outside the gates. Of course a slave-girl with a basket is not remarkable, especially on a feast-day like today — but a Vestal Virgin would have raised an eye or two. The two of them had simply disappeared — and Audelia’s jewel box with them.’
‘And what about the box that was inside the coach?’
‘Still in the raeda, as far as I’m aware. Not even a skilful kidnapper could have taken that — it was far too heavy for anyone to move without attracting huge attention to themselves. I tried to tell Publius about it being there, but he would not listen — just had me gagged and bound and dragged away — though I think he left a servant to keep an eye on things-’
He broke off as a squeaky voice interrupted us. ‘Citizen?’ It was Modesta once again. I got uncomfortably to my feet and went towards her, feeling rather stiff and aware of a damp patch on my toga, where I had been sitting on the sack.
‘Have you brought the chief slave to free this man?’ I enquired.
She was staring at me goggle-eyed. ‘He’s on his way here now. And the master and Publius have just arrived so they are going to come and speak to you themselves. Here they are in fact.’
I looked where she was pointing and saw a small group of people now approaching us, coming from the direction of the house. There were two ‘purple-stripers’ — wealthy Roman citizens in patrician dress. Each of them was accompanied by a page while, dancing along a step or two behind, attempting the near-impossible feat of keeping up with them while simultaneously bowing at every other step, was the beaky steward that I’d noticed in the atrium earlier.
The chief slave had lost his air of cool authority and now seemed to be explaining something to his owner earnestly, with frantic gesticulations of his hands. He turned to Modesta. ‘Your mistress requires you. You’re wanted at the house.’
She gave me an apologetic glance, as if reluctant to leave me unattended, but she scuttled off and I turned to meet the newcomers.
I recognized the stouter citizen as Publius, from having seen him at the feast, but I realized that I had also
