asked at the house, and apparently he intended to instruct the stonemasons who have been working on his new portico to do this job.'
'Why didn't he?'
'He had had a dispute with them about a column they broke, and they had walked off the site.'
'That's probably true. I saw the broken column when I was here before.'
'Constans seems to have decided to surprise and please his grandfather. All he had said to anyone, however, was that he was coming over to inspect the new rollers before the bill from the supplier was authorized. Dear gods, Falco, if I had known his mind I would have helped him myself! I do wonder if he came over to ask me-but I had gone into Corduba to escape from Quadratus…'
'So they say he was alone-yet here we have the first new stone, already hauled into position.'
'I have talked to the workers, and none of them was involved.'
'This was some job to tackle! Rufius looked a sturdy lad, but he cannot possibly have moved the weight on his own.'
'No, Falco. That is why I rode over here today; I just cannot believe what is being said about this accident. It would take at least two men to maneuver and fix these grinding stones-preferably four.' The concern in our tenant's voice convinced me his motives were genuine. Like me, he was a practical man. The flaws in the story had astonished and dismayed him so much, he had had to see for himself.
So what is the fixing procedure, Marius? Each stone has to be lifted into the basin-I presume you get it upright with a fulcrum, and use ropes to heave it in?' I glanced around. Now my eyes were more used to the light, I could make out discarded equipment.
Optatus confirmed how difficult the task would be: 'It's heavy work, but raising the stone in the basin is really the easy part.
Then the grinder has to be held upright, raised off the bottom, and wedged.'
'To set it into position? It churns above the base of the tank?'
'Yes. Setting the height takes strength.'
'And courage! You would know if a stone like that rolled over your toe.'
'Or fell on your chest,' growled Marius, thinking of what happened to young Rufius. 'First you decide the position. Then somebody has to climb up and straddle the center pivot to aim the pole into its fixing on the column-I have done that, Falco, and unless you get lucky immediately, it leads to some raw cursing. The man who is to guide the end into position soon hates the man who pushes the pole through the stone. Making a fit is very difficult. You have to give clear directions-which your partner naturally gets wrong.'
Optatus painted a neat picture of the joys of teamwork. I wished I could see him trying to organize a couple of my brothers-in-law in some simple household task.
'Maybe Rufius and his helper quarreled… Rufius must have been the one on the ground.'
'Yes. The stone slipped, and fell out on him,' Optatus agreed. 'The estate workers told me they found him on his back with his arms outstretched, and the grinding stone right on top of him. It had caved in his chest, and crushed his stomach too.'
I flinched. 'Let's hope he died at once.'
'He could not have lasted long. Even if the stone had been lifted straight off him, he would never have survived.'
'The point,' I said sourly, 'is whether he could have avoided being crushed in the first place.'
Optatus nodded. 'I inspected the pole, Falco.' He bent over it to show me. 'Look, the cap has not been fitted. It looks as if very few wedges were being used to position the stone in the basin either; whoever was doing this job must have been a complete amateur-'
'Rufius was very young. He may never have seen rollers installed before.'
'It was madness. Unplanned, unthinking incompetence. The grinding stone would have been wobbling around on the lever, very hard to control. Once it started to lean out at an angle, the man on the ground might have jumped out of the way if he was quick, but more likely he found its weight too much to resist.'
'Instinct might have made him try to support the stone longer than he should, especially if he was inexperienced. Jupiter, it's ghastly- Wouldn't his friend up above heave on the top rim to pull the stone upright again?'
Optatus was blunt: 'Maybe this 'friend' pushed the stone out instead!'
'You're leaping ahead- But that would explain why the 'friend' vanished afterwards.'
Optatus became more than blunt; he was angry. 'Even if it really was an accident, the friend could have got the stone off Constans afterwards. He would still have died in agony, but he need not have died alone.'
'Some friend!'
A noise alerted us, too late perhaps, to the fact that Marmarides had just led in Helena and Claudia. Claudia's expression told us she had heard what Marius said.
Optatus straightened up at once and went to the girl. He placed both hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. The action was brisk and he released her immediately. Claudia gave him a half-smile, and unlike when Quadratus swamped her with condolences she did not burst into tears again.
Optatus explained in a few words what we had been discussing. There is no doubt; Constans cannot have done this work alone. Somebody-as yet unidentified-was here helping him.'
Somebody killed him.' Claudia's voice was now eerily controlled.
I had to intervene. 'It could have been a terrible accident. But whoever was here
'You mean he need not have died? He could have been saved?' A high note of hysteria showed how Claudia's mind was racing.
'No, no. Please don't torture yourself with that thought. Once the stone slipped and fell on him his wounds would have been too severe.' As I spoke to her, Marius put a hand on her arm and shook his head, trying to persuade her to believe it. Now Claudia did begin to cry, but instead of comforting her himself Marius looked embarrassed and steered her to Helena. As a lover he lacked useful instincts.
Helena held the girl close to her, kissed her, and then asked me, 'Marcus, who do we think this missing companion was?'
'I'd happily name one person!' Marius snarled.
'We know you would-but Quinctius Quadratus has an unshakable alibi: the bastard couldn't ride. Even if his young pal Constans had gone over to our estate to fetch him, he would still need to get home again after the accident. How are you suggesting he did that?' Optatus was silent, reluctantly conceding the point.
'Call it murder, not an accident!' insisted Claudia, breaking free from Helena's arms.
'I won't do that, Claudia,' I said patiently, 'until I can either provide evidence, or make somebody confess. But I give you my word, I will do all I can to discover what happened, and if it really was murder, whoever was responsible will be made to pay.'
Claudia Rufina made a visible effort to control her emotions. The young girl was brave, but she was close to breaking point. At a signal from Helena I quietly suggested we leave the scene of the tragedy and take her on to her grandparents' house.
The great half-finished house lay silent. The builders had been dismissed and the estate workers kept to their quarters. Frightened slaves flitted among the pillars indoors. Time had stopped.
The body of Rufius Constans had been raised on a bier in the atrium. Extravagant branches of cypress decorated the area. A canopy darkened what should have been a space filled with sunlight, while smoking brands caused visitors to choke and rub their streaming eyes. The young man awaited burial swathed in white, smothered with garlands, reeking of sweet preservative oils. Busts of his ancestors watched over him. Laurel wreaths which he had never managed to earn for himself had been placed on tripods to symbolize the honors his family had lost.
Marius and I exchanged glances, wondering if one of us could keep watch while the other climbed up to inspect the body. The possible gains were not worth the risk of discovery. We chose to avoid the howls of
