have discovered. This morning he gave me a copy of Celsus' De Medicina.' She ignored Apuleius' loud groan. 'Now Celsus talks of many poisons. In fact he made me reflect on a number of things, but one of the subjects he mentions is arsenic, and he describes, in great detail, the death and embalmment of Alexander the Great at Babylon some six hundred years ago. Alexander's body was marvellously preserved, probably due to the arsenic which someone had used to poison him. I am sure the same thing happened to Fulgentia, or whatever her name was. So I want the truth, and I want it now!'
Polybius recovered his wits and opened his mouth, but Claudia looked at him warningly.
'You deserve the truth,' Apuleius began, raising his hands, gesturing at his companions to remain silent, 'and I will tell you the truth. The name of that young woman was Fulvia and she killed herself. Let me give you the details. Years ago my wife and I were sheltering Christians fleeing from the persecutions of Diocletian and Maxentius. Now we all know what happened: families broke up, people wandered the roads, entire families disappeared, children would return home to find parents gone, parents would return to find sons and daughters taken up in the middle of the night. Fulvia was a refugee, an exile from Tarentum. She was passed on by various local Christian churches until she reached Rome.' He sighed. 'To cut a long story short, four years ago we took Fulvia in. She may have proclaimed herself a Christian but she was a thoroughgoing nuisance. She was hysterical, hot-tempered, bitter and constantly critical; her real vocation was to be an actress or a dancer. Everything was a drama for Fulvia. She used to threaten my wife and me with going to the authorities, denouncing Christianity, becoming an apostate. At other times she threatened to kill herself.' Apuleius drew in a deep breath before continuing.
'Now I am an apothecary, a physician. One day I had a confrontation with her, and she became hysterical, screaming and shouting at me. She threatened that she would take some powders, kill herself, and I would be to blame. Of course, I didn't believe her. That same night, in the early hours, I heard sounds from downstairs. I came down. I have a special chamber where I keep potions under lock and key. Fulvia had managed to break in and open one of the coffers. She thought she'd taken some relatively innocuous powder; in fact, she'd mixed too much arsenic with her wine and there was nothing I could do to save her. She eventually slipped into a coma, then death. The marks on her neck and shoulders are due to when I tried to make her vomit or to dilute the poison she'd taken with salted water, even some milk. But as you know,' he smiled bleakly at Claudia, 'if you've read
Celsus, the antidotes for powerful poisons are fairly futile. Fulvia died. I knew what would happen. Already I was under suspicion of being a leading Christian in the local community. If Fulvia's corpse was found in my shop, the Vigiles would come, then the soldiers. I had Christian manuscripts, sacred vessels concealed there. I couldn't afford to risk anything. So I came to my old friend Polybius, who had just taken over the She Asses, and told him what had happened. At the dead of night I moved the corpse here. We washed and cleaned it. I anointed it with a wax-like substance to close the pores of the skin, sealing the powder within, and wrapped the corpse in linen.'
'Arsenic gives off a powder,' Claudia declared. 'I saw traces of it when I first viewed the corpse.'
'True,' Apuleius conceded. 'I told people that was from the wood; it's the one effect of arsenic which is difficult to conceal. We thought no one would notice. I also had some denarii from Diocletian's reign. I thought I'd put them over the eyes — this would help date her death to years earlier.'
'And then what?' Claudia asked.
'I went to a local embalmer and bought the coffin. I carved the Christian symbols on it. We put Fulvia in it and buried her out here in the garden. We always intended to move her. The rest you know. The morning Venutus discovered her, Polybius naturally panicked and so did I. I was truly astonished at how well the corpse had been preserved.' Apuleius gestured at Oceanus and Narcissus. 'We took them into our confidence and they swore to help us.
Anyway/ he sighed, 'we took her out, washed her, resealed the skin and cleaned the inside of the coffer. We then peddled the story that it might be a Great Miracle, the work of God. On reflection,' he added ruefully, 'it was. If Fulvia's corpse had been discovered the night she'd died, my wife and I, well, we could have been crucified or sent to the amphitheatre.'
'You still could be,' Claudia declared. 'They would certainly accuse you of murdering her, of hiding her body, and you, Oceanus, Polybius and Narcissus, would be cast as accomplices.' She pointed at Narcissus. 'The story about the old porter in the gatehouse?'
'A story,' he mumbled. 'He'd remember anything if you gave him a coin for a cup of wine.'
'There is one thing you must all do,' Claudia whispered fiercely. 'Presbyter Sylvester will never mention this, and neither must you. You must keep your mouths firmly shut, and take an oath on anything you hold sacred that you will never, ever discuss this again. Let Helena have her Blessed Fulgentia. We know the truth. Polybius, you have made a great deal of money out of this trickery. I suggest you have the most to lose. Now you've repaid Torquatus' loan, I have one thing to demand of you.'
'Which is?'
'No more business ventures.' Claudia jabbed her finger. 'No more spices from Punt or precious sandalwood from Arabia or gum and resin from Lebanon, nothing! Do I have your promise?'
They all held their hands up like consuls taking the oath. Claudia had to suppress a smile.
'Tell me, Apuleius,' she did not wish to deepen their embarrassment, 'is arsenic that effective?'
'It's a true killer,' the apothecary replied, 'and its effects can rarely be traced. The patient suffers from stomach cramps and nausea as if he has eaten something bad or his blood is tainted. You've helped me, mistress.' He leaned across the table. 'I and the rest have already been thinking of how to help you. I mean, over that actor Theodore.'
'And,' Claudia asked, 'you've remembered something?'
'We've remembered nothing,' Apuleius declared, gesturing at the others to remain silent. 'But do you recall, Claudia, when Theodore came here he was suffering from cramps? He claimed he didn't feel well?'
Claudia felt the cold night breeze about her shoulders.
'What are you saying, Apuleius?'
'I am always intrigued by a man who dies in such circumstances. Naturally Fulvia's death weighed heavily on me. I thought of poison again. Mistress, in this tavern that night, no one entered whom Polybius didn't know. Remember, it was by ticket only; everybody was queuing up to see the Great Miracle.'
'And?'
'Which one of Polybius' customers would want to poison an actor they'd never met before?'
'What are you implying?' Claudia asked.
'If Theodore was murdered, and I think he was, — if he was poisoned, and I suspect he was,' Apuleius half laughed, 'then that happened long before he came here. Mistress, did you stop at any wine shop?'
Claudia tried to recall all the details. 'We did visit the Temple of Hathor near the Coelian Hill and met its high priest, Sesothenes, but I cannot remember Theodore eating or drinking anything. Thank you, Apuleius. Now, gentlemen,' she smiled, 'unless you are going to make another great discovery…'
They all took the hint, thanked her and left. Claudia heard them laughing as they went back up the garden path and into the tavern, to be greeted by roars of welcome by Burrus and his ruffians. She sat in the dark, watching the lamps flicker out. She preferred the dark to think. Moreover, it was such a beautiful evening, the sky completely cloud-free, the stars seeming to hang low, the full moon riding in all its glorious golden majesty across the dark blue heavens. She wondered how Murranus was doing, her mind going back to those macabre murders at General Aurelian's villa. Was there a loose thread? And Theodore's mysterious death? She'd found the Celsus manuscript fascinating, and recalled what Apuleius had said. If that was true, she thought, if Theodore was murdered, where did he eat or drink last? And why had he insisted on visiting that temple and that strange high priest?
Claudia felt her stomach tingle with excitement. Of course! She nipped her arm in self-punishment. She'd forgotten that! She'd passed it off as Theodore wanting to thank his favourite goddess before he joined the company at the She Asses, but that could have waited. So why did he go to the Temple of Hathor? She glanced up at the sky. It had been a long day, but she still felt fresh, not ready for sleep, whilst Burrus and his ruffians needed to work. They'd been sent into Rome to watch her, so watch her they could!
A short while later, Claudia left the tavern escorted by five German mercenaries. Burrus shuffled behind like one of the great trolls from his dark forests, grumbling under his breath at being snatched away from the coy glances of Januaria, the delicious food of Celades and the strong-bodied wine offered by Polybius. He and two of his companions carried torches taken from Polybius' stock; these, together with the clink of their weapons, made the
