hooks to pull it onto its side on the altar and quickly tied its limbs. The ox began to bleat in alarm. Some of the boys and girls assembled on the temple steps and sang a hymn to Venus while priests played upon pipes. Uncle Gnaeus stepped forward, holding aloft the ceremonial knife.
The heat of the day, the smoking incense, and the chanting of the children acted on me like a drug. Weariness descended on me. I bowed my head. I closed my eyes…
I gave a start. I opened my eyes. I looked around me, dazed, and saw a most remarkable thing.
The stranger sitting next to me had vanished. In his place sat my friend Hieronymus.
XXI
The chanting continued, but seemed strangely distant and muted. The smoky haze of the incense was thicker and more intoxicating than ever. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but there was no doubt: Hieronymus was sitting next to me.
He was wearing his favorite pale blue tunic with a black border in a Greek key pattern. He looked quite strong and fit and younger than I remembered him. All gray was gone from his hair, and his face had no wrinkles. He fixed me with a sardonic gaze.
'What are you doing here?' I whispered. No one else seemed to have noticed his presence, not even Calpurnia.
'That's hardly a suitable way to greet a man who's back from the dead.'
'But this is… unbelievable!'
'What's unbelievable is the manner in which you've conducted this so-called investigation into my death. Really, Gordianus, I had no idea you were capable of such incompetence. You're too old for this sort of thing. Time to pass the baton to that eager daughter of yours.'
'Don't speak of Diana!'
'She's a beautiful girl, isn't she? And smart! Not like that husband of hers; poor Davus has a brick between his ears. But he's strong enough. They'll make a good team. He can go along and protect her when she sticks her nose into other people's business, the way young Rupa's been protecting you.' He craned his long neck and peered around. 'Where has Rupa got to, anyway? And where is Diana, for that matter?'
'Stop this talk!' I whispered. I glanced at Calpurnia, who was wringing her hands and muttering to herself.
'The poor woman's at her wits' end.' Hieronymus clucked his tongue. 'Married to the most powerful man in the world, and not able to enjoy a moment of it. Listening to soothsayers, crying on her uncle's shoulder, and hiring the likes of me to uncover the truth for her. Mind you, I did uncover the truth, and all on my own-which is more than I can say for you, Gordianus.'
'If you found the truth, then why isn't it anywhere in your writings?'
'Didn't you read that passage in my journal? 'But I could be wrong. Consequences of a false accusation- unthinkable! Must be certain. Until then, not a word in any of my official reports to the lady and her soothsayer.' Well, as it turned out, my suspicion was correct.' He sighed. 'Which is why this happened.'
I looked at him again, and saw a huge bloodstain on his breast, above his heart. His flesh had turned as pale as ivory, but his expression was as sardonic as ever. He saw my consternation, and laughed.
'But who did this to you, Hieronymus?'
'That is what you were supposed to find out, Gordianus!' He rolled his eyes.
I was stung by his sarcasm. 'Help me!' I pleaded.
'I've already given you all the information you need.'
'Nonsense! The material you left behind was worthless. Worse than worthless, because there was so much of it. Report after report, all written in that thorny, cryptic prose-nothing but words and more words, and nothing of substance for me to grasp!'
'Calm yourself, Gordianus. Emotion will lead you nowhere. Think!'
'You're not Hieronymus. You're a daemon, an evil spirit come to taunt me.'
'No, Gordianus, I am Hieronymus-or at least, I'm the sum of all you ever knew about Hieronymus. All we can know of another human being is the image before our eyes and the voice in our ears. What you see and hear now, beside you, is as much as you ever knew of Hieronymus, as real as the man himself. Here I am!'
'Crazy Greek! You confuse me with philosophy!'
'Simpleminded Roman! Always so literal, so mired in facts and figures!'
'Tell me who killed you. Say it plainly!'
He sighed. 'First of all, accept the proposition that Calpurnia is right. Someone is plotting to kill her husband. I figured out who that person was, and I discerned the motive as well. And because of what I deduced, I was killed.'
I was distracted by the lowing of the ox. Uncle Gnaeus was about to cut the creature's throat. Facing the crowd, he raised the knife for all to see. The blade glittered in the sunlight, looking huge and very sharp. He struck the blow: metal sliced into flesh. The ox thrashed its bound limbs. Scarlet poured from the wound. Camilli rushed forward with their libation bowls to catch the spouting blood.
'Have you considered the suspicious behavior of Agapios, the door slave at the building where I lived?' said Hieronymus, watching the slaughter without emotion. He had never been squeamish.
'What do you mean?'
'Really, Gordianus! When a fellow that young flirts with a fellow your age, it can only be because he has an ulterior motive.'
'Not necessarily. The vagaries of human nature-'
'Are reducible to the narrow parameters of self-interest. Young Agapios is a spy. In addition to his regular duties, he also kept an eye on me. He was always stopping me on the stairs to chat, especially when I'd come home a little drunk after a party. Who knows what information he got out of me? I suspect he also looked through my journal occasionally, despite my efforts to hide it.'
'A spy for his mistress, you mean?' I looked sidelong at Calpurnia, who was watching her uncle perform the sacrifice. What sort of madwoman set a spy to watch her own spy?
Hieronymus shook his head. 'Agapios is the property of Calpurnia, but he didn't report to her. He reported to Uncle Gnaeus. That's why the old priest was so angry when he found that Agapios had given you the key to my rooms without his knowledge.'
The sacrifice was proceeding. Wielding the huge knife, his hands smeared with blood, Gnaeus Calpurnius was carving the ox, removing one organ after another. The camilli gathered around him with their libation bowls to receive the kidneys, the heart, the liver, and the rest. One at a time, with prayers and chants, these were offered to Venus, then placed upon a pyre. The organs popped and sizzled, transformed by the flames into divine sustenance for the goddess.
'I found your journal, Hieronymus. By now, I must have read every word of it, and so has Diana. We discovered nothing!'
'Untrue. You found the key! Don't you remember? 'To any seeker who finds these words and would unlock the truth, I shall leave a key-' '
'Yes, yes, I remember. 'Look all around! The truth is not found in the words, but the words may be found in the truth.' But where was this key? I never found it.'
'The words themselves were the key. Where did you find them?'
'In your journal, of course!' I snapped, exasperated.
'But where did you find the journal? What was all around it?'
'The pages were inside a scroll.'
'And what was that scroll?'
I tried to remember. I shook my head.
'Think, Gordianus! I was with you even then. I spoke inside your head. What did I say?'
I remembered now. I had found the journal because I saw my copy of Manius Calpurnius's Life of King Numa among the books on Hieronymus's shelf. I was peeved that he had taken it without my permission, so I reached for
