'It's no trouble,' replied Claudia quietly. 'I would like a chance to talk to him anyway.' That was when I started worrying about Claudia.
I was surveying our visitor more gently. She wore a dark veil, though she had it thrown around her casually as if a maid had persuaded her at the last minute. She had left the maid at home, traveling to see us set-faced and quite alone. Her gown was the blue one I had seen before, less neatly cinched in. Her hair was dressed as normal in a tight, plain style that emphasized the large shape of her nose. As a wealthy heiress she ought to be enjoying herself in elaborate funeral drapes pinned together with onyx jewelry. Instead she could be genuinely abstracted by grief.
'I think we'll send Tiberius home in our own carriage,' I disagreed.
Helena looked annoyed. She was dying to be rid of him. 'Marcus, Claudia Rufina said she wishes to speak to him.'
'What about, Claudia?' I asked crisply.
Claudia looked me straight in the eye. 'I want to ask him where he was when my brother died.'
I looked straight back. 'He was here. He is too badly hurt to ride. When he first took his fall, Helena Justina insisted that a doctor look at him. We know his injury is disabling.'
Claudia's eyes dropped. She looked miserable and confused. She did not think of asking us why anyone should doubt that Quadratus had been hurt, or why we had already taken trouble to work out for ourselves that he had an alibi. She might have an inkling of our own doubts about him, but she still shrank from the full implications.
Helena linked her hands on her stomach. 'Tell us why you came to see Marcus Didius.'
'He investigates,' Claudia declared with a proud tone. 'I wished to hire him to discover how Constans was killed.'
'Don't you believe what you have been told about it?' I asked.
Once again Claudia defied me with her stare. 'No, I don't.'
I ignored the drama. 'Does your grandfather know that you have come to me?'
'I can afford to pay you!'
'Then be businesslike and answer the question I asked.' Claudia was growing up almost before our eyes. 'My grandfather would be furious. He forbids any discussion of what happened. So I didn't tell him I was coming here, or why.'
I quite liked her in this mood. She was young and spoiled, but she was taking the initiative. Helena had noticed my change of expression, and she was looking less critical. As gently as I could, I explained to the girl, 'Look- people come to me all the time claiming that their relatives have died in suspicious circumstances. They are usually wrong about it. Most people who die unnaturally have been killed by close members of their family, so I don't get asked for help because they're hiding the truth. When I am asked to investigate I almost always discover that the person died because their time was up, or in an honest accident.'
Claudia Rufina took a deep, slow breath. 'I understand.' It will be hard to face losing Constans, but you may just have to accept that he is tragically gone.'
She was struggling to seem reasonable. 'You won't help me.' I didn't say that.' She looked up eagerly. 'Something brought you here today when you ought to have been grieving, and comforting your grandmother. Something troubled you sufficiently to drive you from home on your own; I take that seriously, Claudia. Tell me why you feel suspicious.'
'I don't know.' She blushed. At least she was honest. That was a rare treat in a client.
I had spent large amounts of time dealing with women who were holding back in one situation or another. I waited. I could tell Helena Justina thought I was being over-stern. I was just far too tired to be messed about.
Claudia Rufina glanced at Helena for encouragement then said firmly: 'I believe my brother was murdered. There is a reason, Marcus Didius. I think Constans knew something about what you are investigating. I believe he intended to reveal what he knew, so he was killed to stop him talking to the authorities.'
There were a number of questions I might have gone on to ask her, but just as she had finished speaking Tiberius Quinctius Quadratus (in a fetching blue tunic that I last saw in the bathhouse) tapped on the door politely- in case we were discussing anything private-then as we all fell abruptly silent he strolled into the room.
He went straight to the girl. Considering he had admitted to me that the public were wrongly convinced he would marry her, it might have been kinder to keep his distance. But he was murmuring shock and regret. Then as Claudia collapsed in tears, he stooped over her chair, holding one of her hands and with his other arm gently around her hunched shoulders.
Young men are not normally so good with the bereaved. Maybe Helena and I were wrong about him. It is possible to take against someone, then continue to loathe them out of pure prejudice. Maybe Quadratus was a perfectly well-meaning lad, with a kind heart…
On the other hand, Claudia had not been crying until he spoke to her.
Claudia struggled to calm herself. She brushed away the tears and leaned forward to free herself from the young man's solicitous embrace. 'Tiberius, I want to ask you something-'
I interrupted her. 'If and when Quinctius Quadratus is required to answer questions, I'll deal with it.' The girl caught my eye and fell silent. I wondered whether he noticed she might now have doubts about his probity.
Quadratus straightened up, remembering to put a hand to his sprained back. He was rather pale. His good looks were strong enough to take it. His physique was too sturdy for him to look anything other than bouncingly fit. 'Falco, it's perfectly obvious you believe I have done wrong somewhere. I would like to answer your questions and clear things up!' Very good. Spoken like an innocent man, in fact.
'I have nothing to ask you, quaestor.'
'You always use my title as if it were an insult… I wish to have these suspicions removed!'
'You are not under suspicion.'
'That is clearly untrue.' He sounded so pained, a court would free him on the spot. Juries love a man who goes to the trouble of bad acting. 'This is all so unjust, Falco. It seems I cannot move in Baetica without incurring censure. Even the proconsul seems disinclined to work with me-I suppose he thinks I was appointed through influence, not on merit. But is it my fault if my family has strong connections with Baetica? I was as qualified for this quaestorship as any man in Rome!'
'That is perfectly true,' I declared. So it was. Idiots with no sense of ethics are elected to the Senate every day. Some of them are bound to get dumped in important financial posts. 'But be lenient,' I teased him. 'You do meet the occasional eccentric governor who criticizes his quaestor on the grounds that the lad has read Plato's
Quadratus was letting himself get snappy: 'There are very competent people to do the sums, Falco!' True. And just as well, when the man who should be making decisions on the basis of those sums was unable to understand what the figures meant or whether his staff had fiddled them-and when he had told me he did not think there was any point in trying anyway. Quadratus ran his hands through his fine head of hair, looking troubled. 'I have done nothing wrong.'
I smiled. 'Criminals say that every day. It makes life very hard for innocent men: all the good speeches are used up.'
Quadratus frowned. 'So where does that put me?'
I assumed an expression of surprise. I was enjoying myself. It was time to force the issue too: 'Doing your job, I suggest.' If my doubts about Laeta's purely personal interest were right, there was no point expecting him to pursue the Quinctii once he had snatched Anacrites' position. I may as well give this one a chance to damn himself in office. 'Why not prove the proconsul wrong? You came to Baetica to fill the quaestorship. The efficient management of your function is the best way to demonstrate your quality. Just tell him hunting's lost its allure, and you're back in harness. Either he'll accept it with good grace, or he'll have to dismiss you and you can go to Rome to fight your case officially.'
He looked at me as if I had just revealed the secrets of eternity. 'By Jove, I will! You are right, Falco!' He beamed. The transformation had been slick. No longer the suffering accused, he was so used to his family brazenly grabbing whatever they wanted, he now burst with confidence that he could force the proconsul to act as he desired. The coming confrontation might be more interesting than Quadratus realized. 'So you're not hounding
