handedly.
Her opinion was inside information. I wondered how Scilla had acquired the knowledge to judge a gladiator's prowess so scathingly. From Pomponius, perhaps.
We had reached the main sanctuary area. Scilla took us down some steps. I offered a polite hand to Helena, but Scilla seemed well able to keep her balance without assistance.
There was a small enclosure amongst a cluster of temples, including the large Doric shrine to Apollo, with a dramatic open-air altar outside it. Many of the other temples were elderly and small, cramped around the open square in a friendly style. The Hellenistic gods can be less remote than their Roman equivalents.
“So, will you help me, Falco?” Scilla asked.
“To do what?”
“I want Saturninus and Calliopus called to account for causing the death of Pomponius.”
I remained silent. Helena commented, “That may not be easy. Surely you'd have to prove they knew in advance what was likely to happen that night?”
“They are experts with wild animals,” Scilla responded dismissively. “Saturninus should never have organized a private show. Loosing a wild beast in a domestic environment was stupidity. And Calliopus must have known that by switching the lions he had issued Pomponius with a death sentence.”
As a senator's daughter Helena Justina proposed the establishment solution: “You and the ex-praetor's family might do best bringing a civil suit for your loss. Perhaps you need a good lawyer.”
Scilla shook her head impatiently. “Compensation is not enough. It isn't the point either!” She managed to control her voice, then came out with what sounded like a set speech: “Pomponius was good to me. I won't let him die unchampioned. Plenty of men take an interest in a girl who has a reputation-but you can guess what kind of interest that is. Pomponius was prepared to marry me. He was a decent man.”
“Then forgive me,” said Helena softly. “I can understand your anger, but other people may assume you only have low motives. Does his death mean you lost the hope of his fortune, for instance?”
Scilla looked haughty and once more continued like someone who had spent a lot of time brooding over her grievance and practicing how to defend her anger: “He had been married before and his children are his main heirs. What I have lost is the chance of a good marriage to a man of status. Apart from my own great sorrow, it is a disappointment to my family. An ex-praetor is a fine match for any equestrian's daughter. He was generous to offer me that, and I held him in high regard for it.”
“You have to grieve for him-but you are still young.” Scilla was, I guess, twenty-five or so. “Don't let this blight the rest of your life,” Helena warned.
“But,” Scilla returned dryly, “I carry the extra burden of having lost the man I was supposed to marry, in scandalous circumstances. Who will want me now?”
“Yes, I see.” Helena was regarding her thoughtfully. “So what is Falco supposed to do for you?”
“Help me force those men to admit their crime.”
“What have you done about it so far?” I enquired.
“The men responsible fled Rome. After Pomponius died, it was left to me to take the matter up. He had been suffering for so long his family wanted no more of it. I first consulted the vigiles. They seemed sympathetic.”
“The vigiles are known for their kind attitude to wild girls!” Some of the vigiles I knew ate wild girls as a dessert after lunch.
Scilla accepted the joke bravely-by ignoring it. “Unfortunately, with the suspects outside Rome, the case was beyond the vigiles' jurisdiction. Then I appealed to the Emperor.”
“Did he refuse you assistance?” asked Helena, sounding indignant.
“Not exactly. My brothers acted as my advocates, of course, though I know they are both embarrassed by the situation. Nonetheless, they put my case well and the Emperor heard them out. The death of a man of such senior rank had to be taken seriously. But Vespasian's attitude was that Pomponius had been at fault in commissioning a private show.”
Helena looked sympathetic. ‘Vespasian would want to avoid gossip.”
“Quite. Since the two men have absconded, everything was put into abeyance in the hope public interest dies down. The Emperor would only promise that if Saturninus and Calliopus return to Rome he will reexamine my petition.”
“Knowing that, they won't come back,” sneered Helena.
“Exactly. They are holed up in Lepcis and Oea, their home cities. I could grow old and gray waiting for these larvae to reemerge.”
“But within the boundaries of the Empire they cannot escape justice!”
Scilla shook her head. “I could appeal to the governor of Tripolitania, but he won't take stronger action than the Emperor. Saturninus and Calliopus are notable figures, whereas I have no influence. Governors don't respond well to what Falco calls wild girls!”
“So what are you asking Falco to do?”
“I cannot get close to these men. They will not accept representations, or speak to anyone I send. I have to go after them-I have to go to Tripolitania myself. But they are violent people, from a brutal part of society. They are surrounded by trained fighters-”
“Are you frightened, Scilla?” Helena asked.
“I admit I am. They have already threatened my servants. If I go-as I feel I must-I shall feel vulnerable in foreign territory. Having justice on my side would be no consolation if they hurt me-or worse.”
“Marcus-” Helena appealed to me. I had been silent, wondering why I felt so skeptical.
“I can escort you,” I told Scilla. “But what happens then?”
“Find them, please, and bring them to me, so I can confront them with what they did.”
“That seems a reasonable request,” Helena commented.
I felt obliged to warn the woman: “I don't recommend you to plan any big scenes. It has never been proved- let alone proved in court-that either of them has committed a crime.”
“May I not pursue a civil suit as Helena Justina suggested?” asked Scilla meekly. That sounded harmless. Too harmless, from this one.
“Yes; I'm sure we can find lawyers in Lepcis and Oea who will be prepared to argue that Saturninus and Calliopus owe you financial recompense for the loss of your future husband through their negligence.”
“That's all I want,” Scilla agreed.
“All right. I can round them up and subpoena them. The cost should be modest, you'll feel you've taken action, and there may be a chance of winning the case.” Tripolitania was a famously litigious province. Yet I didn't think the issue would necessarily come to court. Both Saturninus and Calliopus could well afford to pay up just to make this woman go away. Her accusations would never hurt them much in my opinion, but they must be an inconvenience. If the lanistae satisfied her complaints and received an indemnity, they would be free to return to Rome. “Just one question, though. There was an unsolved death connected with all this. Pomponius was killed by the lion, who was killed by Rumex. Rumex himself then died and his killer has never been found. I have to ask: were you in any way involved?”
Scilla gave me a cold stare. I felt like a young lady's music teacher who inadvertently played a bum note after she for her part had completed perfect scales. “I could kill a man in the right circumstances,” replied Scilla calmly. “But I have never done it, I can assure you.” Of course not. She was a knight's daughter, and thoroughly respectable.
“Right.” I felt slightly nonplussed.
Obviously I would have to take the job. We made various arrangements-finance, contact points. Then Scilla said she was now going to make an offering at a temple, so Helena and I bade her a polite farewell. I did notice that the temple she went to was entirely appropriate for a woman with her heart set on vengeance, even vengeance in the civil courts: that of the goddess of night and witchcraft, Hecate.
“Identified with Diana,” said Helena, who had also noticed where Scilla went.
“Moonshine?”
“Goddess of hunting was more what I had in mind.”
Helena and I stood beside that lighter haven of culture, the altar of Apollo. There was a faint scent of charred meat which made me hanker for my dinner. “Well? What do you think?”
A frown creased Helena's broad forehead. “Something is not quite right.”
