nodded haughtily.
“I am grateful for your frankness. I hope the questions were not too painful. I shall see your daughter-in-law next.”
The slave was already back, saying the chart would be found for me.
“One final point, sir. I offer my sympathy for your late wife’s death. I believe it was recent?”
“The Flaminica suffered from a tragic illness that came upon her last July.” Laelius Numentinus spoke out so abruptly I pulled up. It was the first time he had volunteered more than a minimal answer. Did he love his wife? “There is no need-absolutely no need-for you to concern yourself with that. Her death was sudden, though nothing untoward.”
I had never supposed it was. I had only wanted to ask him if Gaia had been particularly fond of her grandmother, and perhaps troubled by her death. Instead I said nothing and followed the slave out.
XXXII
IT TOOK A while for me to be admitted to see Caecilia Paeta. I used the time to familiarize myself with the house plan; I marked off the room where I had seen the ex-Flamen, then covered two more while I waited. They were medium-sized reception rooms, very lightly furnished and probably not used. Given that the family had been here nearly a year, I was surprised how little progress they seemed to have made in settling in. Did they lack practical application, or had there been a reluctance to face the fact that they were staying?
The Flaminia, their official residence on the Palatine, would have been officially furnished. I had already noticed that what they owned here was old and of good quality-family pieces, probably-yet there was not much of it. Like many an elite family, these people appeared to have money, but less ready cash than they needed. Either that, or when they needed to reequip they had been too caught up in their wrangles to find time to go shopping.
The reception room I was called to next was typical: too much bare space and no style. Caecilia Paeta was much as I remembered from her visit to Maia’s house, though she looked more drawn. Several frightened maids had flocked to protect her from the immodesty of being interviewed by an informer. She sat hunched in a single basketweave chair, pulling a light stole too tightly around her shoulders, while they squatted on stools or cushions in a circle around her and stared at the floor.
Once again, I kept my voice quiet and my manner calm, though not subservient. I would have to know much more about the situation here before I started throwing my weight about. But I could already feel the tension knotted around this household. In the mother’s silence as she faced me, I could sense the years of oppression that had crushed any spirit out of her.
What kind of life did she face? Abandoned by her husband who, if Numentinus had his way, would never be allowed to divorce her, she was denied the normal right to rejoin her own family and start afresh. Her father-in- law had probably thought little of her to begin with; bullies loathe their victims. When she failed to hold his son, it would seem logical to the tyrant to despise Caecilia more. Now she had lost her child.
“Don’t give up hope.” I had not meant to be kind to her. She had not expected it, either. We shared a moment of uncomfortable surprise. “Look, we won’t waste time. I need to know everything that happened yesterday, up until it was noticed that Gaia was missing. I want you to describe the day.”
Caecilia looked nervous. When she spoke, it was in so quiet a voice I had to lean right forward to hear her. “We all rose as usual, which was not long after dawn.” I could have guessed that. When your home is full of trouble, why waste good arguing time? “The Flamen makes offerings to the gods before breakfast.”
“You eat together as a family? Who was present then?”
“All of us. The Flamen, me and Gaia, Laelia and Ariminius…” She paused, uncertainly.
“Ariminius is the Flamen Pomonalis, and Laelia is his wife? Your husband’s sister? Anyone else there?” I asked, looking down at my tablet. I had thought I sensed something. Caecilia was so shortsighted, she could probably not see my expression, but tone of voice carries. Besides, the maids were watching, and if I looked too keen on a particular question, their anxiety might communicate itself to her.
“Nobody.” I was sure she had hesitated.
“After breakfast you went your separate ways?”
“Laelia was in her room, I think. I had my household tasks.” So the daughter-in-law was their drudge while the daughter took her ease? “Ariminius went out.” Lucky man.
“What about Gaia? Does she go to school?”
“Oh no.” Silly me.
“She has a tutor?”
“No. I have taught her the alphabet myself; she can read and write. Everything children in this household need to know, they learn at home.”
The priestly caste may be top-notch on peculiar ritual; they are not famous for being erudite.
“So, please tell me about Gaia’s day.”
“She sat quietly with the maids to begin with, helping them with their weaving at the loom.” I should have known that as well as believing in self-education, these were home-weaving cranks. Well, a Flamen Dialis has to insist that his Flaminica work her fingers sore preparing his ceremonial robes. I amused myself wondering about Helena’s reaction, if I had come home with my new honor and suggested that a Procurator of Poultry ought to swank about in wife-sewn livery. “After a while,” continued Caecilia, now speaking with more confidence, “she was allowed to go into a safe inner garden and play.”
“When did you hear she was missing?”
“After lunch. That is an informal meal here, but of course I expected to see her. When Gaia did not appear, I accepted a story her nurse told, that Gaia had taken her food to eat by herself. She does that sometimes, sitting on a bench in the sun, or making herself a little picnic still involved in play…” She suddenly looked at me sharply. “I expect you think us a strange, strict family-but Gaia is allowed to be a child, Falco! She plays. She owns plenty of toys.” Not many friends to share them with, I guessed.
“I shall have to search her room shortly.”
“You will find that she lived in a dear little nursery, quite spoiled.”
“So she had no obvious reason to want to run away from home?” I demanded, without warning. Caecilia clammed up. “No horrid new family crises?” I noticed a few restless movements among the waiting maids. They kept their eyes cast down. They had been well drilled, probably while I was kept hanging about before this interview.
“Gaia has always been a happy child. A sweet baby and a happy child.” The mother had retreated into a talismanic chant. Still, at least she was now showing some natural misery. “What has happened to her? Will I ever see her again?”
“I am trying to find the answer. Please trust me.”
She was still agitated. I had no hopes of getting anywhere while she was surrounded by her female bodyguards. The maids were as much protecting me from the truth as protecting the lady from me. I pretended I had finished, then asked if Caecilia would now show me the child’s room, saying I would like her to do this herself in case, under my guidance, she could spot anything different from normal that would act as a clue. She agreed to come without the maids. The slave who was supposed to escort me scuttled along behind us, but he was a loon and hardly ever kept up. He was already carrying the house plan for me, and I added my toga to burden him more.
Caecilia walked me along several corridors. Cooling down abruptly in just my tunic, I hooked my thumbs in my belt. I gave her time to relax too, then returned to the questions she had avoided and asked gently, “Something was wrong, wasn’t it?”
She took a deep breath. “There had been bad feeling, for various reasons, and Gaia has always been sensitive. Like any child, she assumed that all problems were her fault.”
“Were they?”
She jumped. “How could they be?”
I said callously, “I have no idea-since I don’t know what these problems were!” She was determined not to tell
