'It isn't a court day,' I told her, 'but I have some informal questions I'd like to ask.'
'Then please come this way.' As I followed her within the house I admired the way she moved. She had a walk that was both graceful and provocative; its sway emphasized by her long, red hair, which was tied back that morning in a tail that hung down as far as her very shapely buttocks. These and her long legs were clearly delineated by the gown she wore; one of those sheer, close-pleated Greek garments you see in Greek vase paintings, not as shameless as the Coan cloth dresses but extremely bold by stodgier Roman standards. In fact, she was in full Greek regalia that morning, with armlets banding her bare upper arms, her hairstyle and her cosmetics-everything as Greek as Homer.
Instead of the irjipluvium, this time she led me to a small library that opened off the'collonacle. 'l scanned the titles in the honeycomb racks lining three walls. Her taste seemed to run to Greek playwrights and poets, no historians or philosophers. I had the impression that now, free of her husband, Jocasta was detaching herself from all things Numidian and Roman, reverting to her pure Greek heritage.
We took seats at a small table, and a slave set watered wine and a plate of fruit between us. I took a sip and, the amenities now taken care of, got down to the matter at hand.
'Jocasta, you've told me that when your husband was away from Italy, you handled all his business dealings.'
'Yes, I told you that,' she agreed.
'So you dealt with all his business associates?'
'I believe I did.'
'Then you must know Gaeto's citizen partner.'
She didn't pause a beat. 'Oh, yes. It was a man named Gratius Glabrio.' Just because she didn't pause didn't mean that she was not lying, of course.
'Glabrio? Is he a citizen of Baiae? Of Cumae or Stabiae or Pompeii, by any chance?'
'Oh, no. He lives in Verona. It will be days before he even knows that Gaeto is dead.'
'Which would account for his absence from the funeral. Have you any idea why there is no record of the affiliation in the local archive? It is required by law.'
'I've no idea at all. The partnership was established when my husband first set up business in Italy. That was several years before we were married. I've never met the man personally, although just last year I sent him his percentage of the year's profits.'
Another dead end. Verona was nearly as far from Baiae as it was possible to go and still be on the Italian peninsula. By the time I could prove or disprove the existence of this Gratius Glabrio I would already have, hopefully, solved this case. And by that time Gelon might well have been tried, condemned, and executed for a murder I did not believe he had committed.
'You make much of Gaeto's outcast status,' I said, 'yet you are a woman of education and refinement. If I may be so personal, how does one of your breeding end up married to a Numidian slaver?'
'Haven't you guessed?' she said with a sultry tilt of her head. 'Gaeto bought me.'
'You were a slave?'
'Nothing quite as crude as that. I am from Athens. Like my mother and grandmother before me, I was raised to be a hetaera.'
This explained much. Most Romans think that a hetaera is just a high-class whore, but the truth is more complex. The word means 'companion,' and they are just that: women raised from childhood to be fit companions for well-bred men. To this end they are educated far beyond the usual level allowed women. They must be able to converse knowl-edgeably and with wit on a wide range of subjects: politics, history, art, and so forth. They learn music and poetry and, of course, a great many sexual refinements.
It just goes to show you that not all Greek men are pederastic boy humpers. Some of them actually desire the companionship of intelligent, educated women and are willing to pay very high fees for the privilege.
'Gaeto was just a wealthy merchant in need of a refined wife for his Italian home. My mother named a price, and he paid it without haggling. The status of rich man's wife is not a bad one for one of my heritage. Of course, at the time I didn't know what his business was, nor about the other wife in Numidia. Still, it wasn't a bad arrangement. Amid great luxury I set about applying some polish to my new husband and I think you will agree I was successful in this.'
'He was a charming as well as an imposing man,' I concurred.
'Yes, and our union was a rather happy one as such things go. I can tell you for a fact that few of the women here in Baiae are as satisfied with their husbands as I was with mine.'
And some of them were content with yours as well, I thought. 'And was your husband at odds with any of the great men of the town?'
'If you mean the rich ones, he was not.'
'What of the not so rich ones?'
'Well, the priest, Diocles-'
'The one you told me on our last interview you believe to be the go-between in a network of treasonous activity?'
She shrugged. 'Just a suspicion, on the word of a few suborned slaves. And, anyway, Gaeto never had anything to do with that. No, the priest was extremely angry with Gaeto, even threatening. I believe it was because poor Gelon was paying court to the old man's daughter.'
'Threatening? You said nothing of this at our last interview.'
'My husband was alive at the time of our last interview. He would have taken a very dim view of my speaking of his feuds to an official. Numidians settle such matters personally.'
'And did you not suspect Diocles of murdering your husband?' I demanded.
She snorted delicately. 'That feeble old man kill a man like Gaeto? Only a strong man with a sure hand and eye could have struck that blow.' She smiled. 'At least you know it wasn't Gelon. He was in your custody when my husband was killed.'
'So he was. What were relations like between father and son?'
'Probably better than between a Roman father and son. You Romans are known for your tyrannical attitude toward your children. Oh, Gelon chafed a bit under paternal authority. What spirited young man does not? But Gaeto adored him and indulged him shamelessly. You saw his horses, his trappings, his personal escort, like that of a young prince. No, Gelon had little to complain about.'
'Did Gaeto forbid him to see the priest's daughter? I spoke to Gaeto about this personally, because I foresaw trouble in my district.'
'I believe they exchanged some sharp words on the matter, but I heard nothing clearly. And if you foresaw trouble, you share the gift of the Cumaean Sibyl.'
'Actually, I had no idea just how bad trouble could get in this district. But I am learning.'
'You know,' she said, subtly shifting her shapely body, 'you are a very interesting man. I've heard how you all but wiped out those bandits by yourself.'
'An exaggeration,' I assured her. 'I accounted for two of them. My men and Gelon's did for the rest.'
'But Rutilia told me how you faced down the whole power structure of Baiae with a sword in each hand, drenched in blood from head to foot. She said it was a most stimulating sight. From the way she gushed on about it, you probably could have mounted her right there on the road in front of everybody and she'd have loved it.'
'What is life but a series of missed opportunities?' I said.
She laughed gaily, apparently quite recovered from her recent bereavement. 'You are just not what one expects in a Roman official. Most of them are such dullards.'
'I try to be entertaining. So you have been socializing with Rutilia? I thought the local ladies cut you dead.'
'Oh, in public they elevate their noses, but I fascinate them. Last night Rutilia called on me, ostensibly to console me in my loss. Of course she claimed that she truly wanted to attend the funeral, but Norbanus wouldn't hear of it. She really wanted to get all the details of the murder and learn what was to become of Gelon. Quadrilla had already been by earlier, on the same mission. I know them well, you see. Them, and the other society wives of Baiae. They come to learn from me.'
'And what do you teach them?'
'Can't you guess? They want to learn how to best please their lovers. No woman is more accomplished than
