Under Vesuvius

'That does present a problem,' he admitted.

'I don't think my best with a dry throat,' I said. 'Let's see what the district has to offer by way of refreshment.'

'I thought you'd say that.'

We turned our steps toward an entertainment district where there were numerous dining and drinking establishments. Rome is a city of taverns and food stalls and street vendors, but Baiae, as usual, is different. This area featured spacious courtyards filled with tables where elaborate lunches and dinners were served at moderate cost. The main difference between eating in such a place and in a private home is that the diners sit rather than recline at table.

A girl brought us a very superior wine and I ordered big bowls of the savory fish stew. We ate and pondered and discussed and got nowhere. We had a superfluity of circumstance and suspects and yet we were woefully ignorant in a few key areas.

'Praetor Metellus!' This was shouted in that singsong fashion women use when they want your attention from a distance. I looked around and saw Quadrilla, Manius Silva's wife, waving frantically. She rushed over to our table, followed by a slave laden with parcels, the plunder of a triumphant day of shopping, no doubt. 'Might I join you?'

'Please do,' I said, mystified at this seeming friendliness.

'Cleitus,' she said to the slave, 'take these things to the house and have the litter sent to me here.' Wordlessly the man left. 'I was hoping to find you today, Praetor.'

'I must wonder at that,' I said. 'Your husband was most displeased with me.'

She laughed gaily. 'Oh, he was! Serves him right, too, trying to pass such an obvious bribe. Poor Manius! That sly Cretan gets him into more trouble.' She accepted a cup from the serving girl and downed a good portion of it.

'Is Diogenes really counterfeiting perfume?' I asked.

'I have no idea. If he does, it's good enough to fool me. But double-dealing and suborning are reflexive with Cretans, they just can't help themselves. Diogenes has to outmaneuver all his competition, by underhanded means if at all possible.'

'You mean it wasn't true, what your husband said about Diogenes being such a hardworking and resourceful businessman?'

'Oh, it's all true. But that is not enough, you see. Diogenes could never be content to know that he excelled through hard work and courage and intelligence. He has to know that he's tricked everybody. It's been that way since Ulysses, you know. Ulysses never opened his mouth except to lie, and Greeks have held to that ideal from that day to this. And the Cretans are the most Greek of the Greeks. Deceiving Romans is child's play to them. Diogenes has to prove that he can outlie, outtrick, and out-bribe all the other Greeks in Campania.'

'They are a competitive lot,' I agreed. 'Not as homicidal as they used to be, though.'

'Homicidal?'

'Yes, you know: the Iliad, the House of Atreus, the tyrannicides, Harmodius and Aristogiton, even Alexander and his friends. They were as bloody handed a pack as you could ask for. But these days they'd rather connive than murder forthrightly.'

'I'm not sure I follow you.' She hadn't been expecting this.

'Just that I have two murders on my hands and I'd like to eliminate as many suspects as possible.'

'Don't you think Gelon killed the girl, and her father killed Gaeto in revenge?'

'Quite possible, of course. Likely, in fact. But I dislike having the obvious thrust before my nose. It makes me suspicious.'

'As it should. It's so seldom Rome sends us a man of subtlety. I like you, Decius Caecilius, even if my husband is temporarily indisposed toward you. What has stirred up your suspicions?' She sat back and twirled a blue-painted fingernail in her wine.

'A number of things. For instance, the late Gaeto was a man everyone affected to despise, yet I saw him at formal and private functions, always receiving the deference one expects to be shown a public official or a prominent priest or patrician, not a slaver. Why was that?'

'Ah, poor Gaeto.' She stared into the bottom of her cup, which seemed to have grown distant in her sight. 'I'll grant you, his profession made him lowly-'

Says the probable ex-prostitute, I thought.

'— but he was a remarkable man. One grows so tired, you know, of effete aristocrats, money-obsessed businessmen and their social-climbing wives. And that is about all we have here in Baiae, as you may have noticed. Gaeto was something very different. As wealthy as any of the local tycoons but not at all softened by riches and luxury. He had a manner that is rare in Romans of this generation. I am not saying that he was just some primitive brute. You can buy as many of those as you want in the market.'

'You mean,' I said, 'that he was like a tribal warrior chieftain but a cultured, sophisticated one?'

She smiled lazily. 'Yes, that's it. Women like that, you know: a rough man, dripping masculinity, who's had his roughest edges polished smooth. It made him very popular among the ladies here.'

Oho, I thought. Here's a new factor. 'You mean other men besides Diocles may have had a reason to kill him?'

She erupted in tinkling laughter. 'A jealous husband? Here? Not likely! As long as the wife was discreet, the husband would just try to parlay the affair into a business advantage. This isn't Rome, Praetor.'

'As I am being reminded constantly. Did your husband or Diocles have business dealings with Gaeto? Not implying any impropriety on your part, of course.'

'Only on the most mundane level, I think. Gaeto dealt in high-quality slaves, so he would want to present them to best advantage. That would mean perfumes and scented oils, especially for the house servants and entertainers. And he was princely in gift giving, especially with his African and Asian contacts. I believe he regularly ordered assortments of the costliest scents for that purpose.'

'Do you know of anyone besides Gaeto who might have been involved with Gorgo?'

She pursed her mouth and arched her eyebrows. 'As far as I know, she was as blameless as her eulogy would have it.'

'Is anyone ever that blameless?' I asked.

'Never. But she lived a rather secluded life out there in the temple. We never mixed much with them except at municipal banquets and that sort of event. They're local aristocracy, or fancy themselves so, too well-bred for the likes of us.' She laughed again. 'If that's how aristocrats live, you can have it!'

'I couldn't agree more, though I'm something of an aristocrat myself. In Rome we like to affect a taste for the simple, rural life. In truth, we'd all love to live like Lucullus, if only we could afford it.'

'You're not doing too badly,' she said. 'Old Hortalus's villa is said to be the finest in Italy.'

'Alas, it's just a loan. Before long, I'll have to go down to Bruttium and you know how miserable that's going to be. It's like Rome two hundred years ago and I'll be surrounded by Bruttians.'

'It is a backward place,' she agreed. 'Actually, you should be grateful these murders have occurred. It gives you an excuse to prolong your stay.' She looked up under her thick eyelashes and smiled slyly.

'By Jupiter, you're right. I suppose that makes me a suspect.'

'I think I would commit murder to stay in Baiae and out of Bruttium!' she said, bursting into laughter again. She had been into the wine before she joined our table.

'I still wonder, though,' I went on, 'why the men deferred to him so. Only a small minority would have found in him the same attractions the women did.'

'More than you would think,' she said. 'But you are right. The fact is, many of Baiae's noblest had business dealings with Gaeto. Very deep, important business dealings. Some of our most impeccably respectable citizens are involved in extremely dirty dealings.'

'What sort of dealings?' I asked.

She leaned forward on her elbows in a parody of intimacy. 'It's all about using money to get more money, Senator. That's what business is. You Roman aristocrats like to pretend that the only respectable sources of wealth are land and plunder in war. The businessmen here prefer the luxury trades. But you and they know the truth: The greatest source of wealth is human flesh. And the only true power is absolute dominion over human flesh.' The worldly cynicism in her eyes was an unsettling thing to behold.