Hermes' hands.
'Now that I'm free,' Hermes said, 'he feels entitled to work me harder.'
'I understand you've had some work to occupy you here,' Cicero said. 'Do tell me all about it, Decius.' He turned to the surrounding people. 'My good friends, please give me leave. I have dealings with the praetor. We shall have a fine banquet in a few days. My brother and I will be here all summer.'
Amid effusive greetings and farewells, we retired to one of the baths' small meeting rooms. These were chambers of modest size furnished with chairs and long tables, usually employed by local business associations, fraternal organizations, funeral clubs, and so forth. It had a permanent staff of slaves to serve wine and light refreshments. We arranged ourselves around the central table and accepted the proffered cups of watered wine. A slave set a tray of salted, dried, and smoked snacks on the table and withdrew discreetly. We each took a ceremonial sip and bite and got down to business.
'I hear tales of a rather bizarre murder case in your jurisdiction, Decius,' Cicero began.
'It is a-strange case,' I said.
'For you to admit that,' Quintus Cicero said, 'proclaims volumes.'
'Let me enlighten you,' I said. I told them of the progress of the case thus far, leaving out only my recent interview with Jocasta. I was not yet satisfied that this was not merely a tissue of lies to distract my investigation. Experienced investigators and judges that they all were, they followed my words closely and I knew that they would render no judgment that was not cogent and to the point.
'What a strange matter,' Cicero said when I was finished. 'The low status of the suspect of course works in his disfavor, but the great amount of wealth to be found in all directions confuses things. Quintus?'
His brother thought for a moment. 'Much seems obvious and is all too obvious. The passion of young love, jealousy-these things provide sufficient motive for the act but not for the subsequent pressure brought to bear by the moneyed class of Baiae. There is something far more compelling at work in this.'
'I agree,' Cicero said. 'Tiro?'
The freedman had his answer ready. 'I think Hermes is right. The slave girl Charmian has the answer. She must have been present when the most important events of this business took place. The only difficulty is getting access to the girl. Apparently, she is willing to speak to the praetor.'
'Exactly,' Cicero said. 'And herein lies the difficulty: How are we to compel a citizen to surrender one of his slaves and make her talk?'
This may seem strange to many who are not conversant with Roman law and practice as they were in those days. Here we were, a little group of some of Rome's more powerful men, unable to figure out how we could get a Greek priest to allow us access to one of his slaves to ask her some questions.
But one of the most important observances in Roman life was the acknowledgment of the absolute power of a citizen over his own property, and that property included his slaves. In the past, people of our class had been destroyed when their own slaves had denounced them to tyrants like Marius and Sulla. And then there had been the rebellion of Spartacus.
The result had been some draconian laws concerning the rights of citizens to control their own slaves. Even the highest magistrates had no power to compel the testimony of slaves without the cooperation of their masters. At this time, it was political death to accept slave testimony save under the most stringent conditions.
'Marcus Tullius,' I said, 'the boy's father, the Numidian Gaeto, is looking for an advocate. Might you be interested in taking the case?'
Quintus nudged him. 'Why not? It's been a while since you've argued in court, big brother. This would be an exercise of some long-disused muscles.'
But Cicero shook his head. 'No, it is unthinkable. Oppressed provincials are one thing, but for Cicero to defend a slaver's son? I am sorry, Decius, but it would be unseemly. The boy may be innocent, as you believe, but I could not take a hand in this.'
I was disappointed, and I could see that Quintus and Tiro felt the same. This was another example of the self-importance that Cicero suffered from in his later days. The Cicero I had known in his younger days would have taken the case on just for fun.
He correctly interpreted our expressions. 'Of course, I shall be more than happy to consult with his defense attorney. I am certain that a properly eloquent defense will persuade the jury to acquit.'
'Even if he's guilty,' Quintus muttered.
'I'm afraid,' I said, 'that a jury here is likely to be heavily weighted with Greeks, and the priest has great prestige in the Greek community. Also, I think many of the local men had a more than moderate fondness for the girl.'
'Nothing a rousing speech can't fix,' Cicero assured me. 'Any idea who this man Gaeto has hired?'
'Is old Aulus Galba still around?' Quintus asked. 'He's said to have the best legal mind south of Rome.'
'As I understand it,' I said, 'he was one of last year's
'I suppose he's out, then,' said Cicero. 'Well, there must be somebody suitable.'
'I'm sure there must be,' I told him. 'So you've petitioned for a triumph?' Behind Cicero, Quintus rolled his eyes while Tiro made a careful study of his fingers, folded on the table before him. Clearly, this was another of Cicero's late-life eccentricities. He had been sent out to Syria as governor with the task of repelling a Parthian incursion. Cicero was a lawyer and pure politician, the unlikeliest soldier Rome could have sent. He detested military life as much as I did, yet here he was, trying to vie with the likes of Caesar in celebrating a triumph. This for some doubtful successes after young Cassius had already taken care of the serious fighting.
'Exactly,' Cicero said with his customary certitude. 'All the prerequisites have been accomplished, all the legalities observed; the Senate has no just cause to deny me a triumph.'
'I am sure,' I told him. I revered Cicero, and was willing to overlook his sometimes startling character flaws. I, for one, was certain that the man who could decisively whip the Parthians had not yet been born in Rome. If the Senate granted him a triumph, it would be an indication that their standards had fallen considerably.
With promises of future visits, reciprocal dinner parties, and legal consultations in the forum, our meeting broke up. With my little following I set out for the villa.
'You could have hoped for more help from Cicero,' Marcus said as he walked along beside my litter.
'I could have, but times have changed.'
'You've done him plenty of favors in the past,' Hermes grumped. 'I could see that Quintus and Tiro wanted to help out.'
'I'm not sure they or anyone else could have,' I mused, my mind wandering.
'What's that?' Marcus asked.
'He's going into one of his moods again,' Hermes informed him. 'No use talking to him now.'
I had a great deal on my mind, and my ruminations weren't improved when we reached the villa and Julia got her claws into me.
'You just had to get together with that slaver's slut, didn't you?' she began while I was still halfway in my litter.
'Slut? She may be a perfectly virtuous wife, for all we know.'
'Spare me. We'll have this out later. For now, we're about to have dinner with the dictator of Stabiae and his wife and some other dignitaries of that town. Do gather up your gravitas and try to be both presentable and coherent.' She did me an injustice. Since donning the purple-bordered toga I had made a special effort to moderate my drinking and avoid loose speech. It was no use pointing this out to Julia.
In the event, the dinner was a success. For the record, in towns like Stabiae, Lanuvium, and some others the dictator was simply the senior magistrate. He had nothing like the powers of a true Roman dictator. Despite all the problems occupying my thoughts, I made sure to be witty and charming, things that have usually come easily to me.
When the last healths had been drunk and the guests helped into their litters and sent on their way with presents and good wishes, Julia resumed her interrogation, but she was somewhat mollified by my excellent behavior.
'All right,' she said as we relaxed in one of the villa's imposing im-pluvia, 'what did you learn from her?'
'I'm not sure I learned anything, but I heard a lot. Let me tell you and see what you think.' I gave her the story Jocasta had told me and Julia's expression was more than skeptical.
