I had no idea how Vespasian would really react to wide scale fiddling by a bunch of tribal trench-diggers. Still, it sounded as if he and I had shared hours of discussion on the fine points of policy.
'Right.' Pomponius came up with a new idea. 'Mandumerus is to be replaced.'
Well, that was sensible. None of us argued.
'Now this dodge has come to light,' I said, 'we have to stop it. I suggest we stop paying the supervisors in the current way. Instead of group rates based on their reported manpower figures, we'll make them each submit a complete named roll. If either can't write Latin or Greek, we can provide him with a clerk from the central pool.' I was thinking ahead to how other scams might develop: 'Rotating the clerks.'
'On a random basis.' Cyprianus at least was working on the same lines as me.
'Cyprianus, you will have to become more involved. You know how many men are on site. From now on, you should always countersign the labour chits.'
That meant if the problem persisted, the clerk of works would be personally liable.
I wondered why he had not spotted anomalies previously. Perhaps he had. Possibly he was crooked, though it seemed unlikely. I bet he just felt nobody would back him up. Judging him to be sound at base, I left that un pursued 'I would like to know why you keep the two gangs separate,' I said.
'Historical,' Cyprianus replied. 'When I came out here to set up the new project, the British group were already on site as the palace maintenance crew. Many have worked here for years. Some of the old 'uns actually built the last house under Marcellinus; the rest are their sons, cousins and brothers. They had formed established, tight-knit teams. You don't break those up without losing something, Falco.'
'I accept that, but I think we have to. Amalgamate the groups. Let the British workers see that we are angry; let them know we have formally discussed whether to dismiss them. Then split them up and re-allocate them among the foreign sector.'
'No, I won't have that,' Pomponius interrupted haughtily, with no logic. He just hated to agree anything that had come from me. 'Leave this to the specialists, Falco. Established teams are a priority.'
'Normally yes. But Falco has a point-' Cyprianus began.
Pomponius brushed him aside rudely. 'We shall stick with the present system.'
'I believe you will regret it,' I said in a cool tone, but I let it rest. He was the project manager. If he ignored good advice, he would be judged on results. I would report to Rome- both my findings and my recommendations. If the labour bill then stayed too high, Pomponius was for it.
A wider issue struck me. With Verovolcus present, raising it was tricky: I wondered whether King Togidubnus had known all along about the phantom labour. Had it been a regular arrangement for years? Were previous Emperors, Claudius and Nero, each overcharged? Was this fiddling routine- never detected by Rome, until new Treasury vigilance under Vespasian brought it to light? And so had the King knowingly allowed the fraud as a favour to his fellow Britons?
Verovolcus glanced at me. Maybe he read my mind. He was, I thought, intelligent enough to see that whatever had gone on under the old regime, the King now had to operate my package of reforms.
'We shall have to deal carefully with Mandumerus.' I was still trying to impose physical order. The last thing we wanted was an outbreak of sabotage. 'If Mandumerus has been sharing his proceeds with his men, they are bound to feel sympathy for him if he's arrested not to mention their grief for lost income. It could lead to revenge 'incidents'.'
'What do you suggest, then?' snapped Pomponius.
Hold him liable for the lost wages. I recommend taking him under guard to Londinium. Get him right away from here '
'Not necessary.' Pomponius reacted with daft bias yet again. 'No, no; this is where we can show our magnanimity. A gesture to local sensitivities. Diplomacy, Falco!'
Diplomacy my arse. He just wanted to cut across me. 'You cannot have him staying in the district as a focus for disruption. The men go drinking in Noviomagus every night. Mandumerus will be sitting right there, inciting them '
'Nail him up, then!'
'What?'
Pomponius had had another wild idea. 'Put up the man on a crucifix. Make him a direct example.'
Dear gods. First this clown ran a completely lax site, then he became a scourge.
'That's an overreaction, Pomponius.' This was serious. We had the brooding presence of Verovolcus -no longer the comic figure, but a hostile witness whose knowledge of these mad Roman machinations could do us great harm. 'Crucifixion is a punishment for capital of fences I cannot allow it.'
'I run this site, Falco.'
'If you were a legionary commander in a full war situation, that might pass for an excuse! You answer to the civil powers, Pomponius.'
'Not on my project.' He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Pained silence from Magnus and Cyprianus confirmed that Pomponius might get his way. Unluckily my own brief did not extend to locking up the project manager. Only Julius Frontinus could authorise such a major step- but the governor was sixty miles away. By the time I could contact Londinium it would be too late.
'What tribe is Mandumerus?' I asked Cyprianus.
'Atrebates.'
'Oh, well done, Pomponius!'
This would have been bad enough in any province. Exposing locals as corrupt had to be handled with great delicacy. Of course there must be a public scapegoat- but would he be a scapegoat for decades of royal complicity and Roman mismanagement? His punishment had to reflect any ambivalence.
Pomponius smiled serenely. 'All issues of design and technical competence, welfare, safety and justice are mine. We endure quite enough pilfering. Organised fraud will be drastically punished…'
'Why don't you keep a bunch of man-eating leopards in the depot along with the guard dogs? You could throw wrongdoers to the beasts in your own little arena, with you daintily dropping a white kerchief to initiate the tun- but you cannot do that.' I knew I was right. 'Only the provincial governor has praetorian power. Only Frontinus is invested with the Emperor's authority to execute criminals. Forget it, Pomponius!'
He leaned back. He had taken up position today in a folding seat, the symbol of authority. He put the tips of his fingers together. Light flashed off his enormous topaz ring. Arrogance flowed around him like a general's overweight crimson cloak. 'I shall adjudicate, Falco and I say the man dies!'
Verovolcus, who had stayed significantly silent, rose swiftly and left the meeting. He made little fuss. But his reaction was clear.
'Straight to the King,' Cyprianus muttered.
'Straight in the shit for us,' growled Magnus.
In Britain, where memories of the Great Rebellion were set to last for ever, the causes ought to have been fixed in the architect's mind: high-handed Roman violence by minor officials who had had no feeling for the tribes and no judgement.
The Atrebates here in the south had not joined Queen Boudicca. When Rome was nearly swept out of Britain, the Atrebates had supported us as usual. Romans fleeing from massacre by the Iceni had been welcomed, comforted and given refuge at Noviomagus. Togidubnus had again offered our beleaguered armed forces one safe base in the enflamed province.
Now a member of that loyal tribe had committed fraud, perhaps with official connivance. We had to keep it in proportion: the fraud had resulted only in financial loss, not real damage to the Empire. The damage would be caused if we handled the situation badly.
How could Pomponius be blind to the implications? If he executed Mandumerus, we were verging on an international incident.
I was so angry I could only jump up and storm out. I strode away so furiously I had no idea whether the sycophants all stayed with Pomponius, or whether other people followed me.
XXXIII
