“No-they’re far too soft.” Any lad in Rome would know the Praetorian Guard were vicious. “I’ll give him to Anacrites.”
“The Chief Spy?” Aelianus was playing along with me. “Oh, have a heart, Falco!”
“Well, of course he’s a brute; I can’t stand his dirty methods. Still, he’s got the best equipment. Speedy won’t last long in the underground torture cell.”
While Aelianus was shuddering dramatically, the boy squealed in panic. “I done nothing, I done nothing!”
One thing he had done was to make too much noise. I glanced over my shoulder, but despite his cries, the household staff were all absorbed in serving the first course at the feast. The Brothers were raising quite a din too, as they fell on their ceremonial hors-d’ oeuvres and gossiped with their mouths full about last night’s grim events. “Answer my questions then, son. A man was killed, rather unpleasantly. What did you see in the Sacred Grove of the Dea Dia?”
“I didn’t see him killed.”
“Well then? Do you know who he was?”
“One of the Brothers. They all look alike once they get dressed up. I don’t know all their names.”
“Did you see the corpse?”
“No. Someone else found it; one of the temple priests, I think. He went off sick today.” The priest’s own choice, or the Master’s decision? “I only saw the Master’s attendants taking the body away on a trestle, covered up.”
“What else?” asked Aelianus quietly. Without any training, he now fell into the role of the friendly, well-spoken interrogator-the less brutal one. I could live with that.
“I saw her,” gasped Speedy, gratefully turning to this more sympathetic fellow. “The woman who did it. I saw her.”
Suddenly he was less sure of himself, and looked more his age: a boy. An extremely frightened one.
“Will you tell us about her?”
“The men who were moving the body didn’t want people hanging about. I was having a good gawp, but they ordered me to move away. As I was going, she appeared in front of me.”
“Can you describe her?”
The camillus was too young to have started taking mental notes of women’s attributes. He looked helpless.
“What was she wearing?” I suggested.
“White. With her hair all tied up. White-but the front of her dress was covered with blood. That was how I knew she did it.”
“Of course. You must have been terrified,” Aelianus sympathized.
“I was all right,” he bragged, comforting himself in retrospect. He had probably had no time for real fear.
I stuck with the job in hand: “Was she a young woman?”
“Oh no.” To a boy his age that could mean anyone over twenty-five.
“A gray-haired granny?”
“Oh no.”
“A matron? Was she high class? Did she wear jewelry?”
“I don’t know-I was just staring at her. She had a wild look. And
…” He stopped.
“And what?” asked Aelianus patiently.
“She was holding a bowl.” The boy’s voice had dropped. This seemed to be the source of his hidden terror. “She was holding a bowl like this-” He demonstrated, miming the action of carrying a vessel lodged on the hip, with one hand on the far rim. We were silent. He struggled. “It was full of blood. Like in a temple sacrifice.”
“Dear gods!” Shocked himself, Aelianus set a hand on the boy’s shoulder to steady him. Aelianus had told his father and me that the dead man had a large throat wound. Now we knew why. He shot me a look, then drew breath carefully. “So what happened?”
“She did something horrible.”
“What?”
“Other people had seen her. I could hear them coming towards us, and I thought I was safe.”
“But?”
“Maybe she heard the people coming. She began to weep, crazily. She seemed to start awake from a dream, and she saw me. Then it was strange. At an altar, when they cut the beast’s throat and catch the blood, they have a boy to hold the ritual bowl sometimes. She seemed to think I was there for that.” The camillus braced himself. “She said, ‘Oh, there you are!’-and then she gave the bowl of the dead man’ s blood to me.”
XV
WE CROSSED THE hall in silence and were making our way from the house. A latecomer rushed up the steps towards us, a senator in full fig and to my surprise a man I recognized. “Rutilius Gallicus!”
“Falco! What brings you here?”
“I could ask the same, sir.”
He paused, catching his breath. “Duty.”
“Well, you can’t be one of the Arval Brothers, or you would be prettied up with corn tonight-This is Camillus Aelianus, by the waythe brother of Justinus, whom you met with me in Africa.”
Just in time Gallicus remembered not to exclaim, Ah, the one who ought to have married that rich Spanish girl his brother pinched! “I heard a lot about you,” he uttered instead. A mistake, as usual. Aelianus looked peeved. Embarrassed, Rutilius Gallicus dashed into his excuses for being here: “I may not have told you, Falco, I am a priest of the Cult of the Deified Emperors. I took over directly after Nero, actually-”
I whistled. This was a top-flight honor, with close imperial connections, which he would hold for life and then have carved very large on his tombstone. Even Aelianus forced himself to look impressed. “So you are attached to the Arvals after all, sir?”
“No more than I can help!” Gallicus shuddered, still at heart the straightforward north Italian. “I hold no brief for them, Falco. But in view of their role in praying for the health of the imperial house, I am automatically invited to their festivals.”
“A free meal never comes amiss. I have heard a theory that election to be the new Master actually depends on a kitchen inspection, rather than the man’s religious qualities.”
“I can believe that.” Rutilius smiled. “Look, are you two going in to the feast? I am sure I can arrange it-”
“Not tactful, I’m afraid.” Taking a chance that he belonged to the inner circle who knew all about the murder in the Grove, I added, “My young friend Camillus had the misfortune to discover a bloody corpse last night. You may have heard the story. We were just here asking some awkward questions. The Brothers are clearly sensitive about the incident; our faces won’t fit at the party.”
Rutilius glanced about, as if making sure we were not overheard. “ Yes. I just came from the Palace; we were talking about exactly that. It’s why I am late. Titus and Domitian Caesar would normally have been here-”
“Policy decision? It’s tricky protocol,” I sympathized. “If they stay at home over a tragedy that nobody could help, it looks coldblooded. But if this murder blows up into a scandal on the lurid page of the Daily Gazette, the princes will not want their names linked.. .. Let me guess: the lads in purple have been struck wth an inexplicable stomach upset, and you are bringing their sincere apologies?”
“Domitian has a stomach upset,” Rutilius agreed. “Titus elected for suddenly remembering the birthday of a very ancient aunt.”
“Ah well, he gets a quiet evening in the arms of the phenomenal Berenice.”
“Wonderful for both of them! Falco, I must dash inside-”
We bade him good evening and left the marine-style villa. After a while Aelianus asked, “So what did you make of all that?”
“Intriguing. A woman goes mad and knifes a relative-only she dresses it up as a religious sacrifice.” I paused. “It must have taken some doing. The killing would have been difficult, even in a frenzybut then, after that
