doesn’t d-d-deserve respect.’
Vespasian, Corbulo and Pallas looked at the stuttering, slobbering potential heir to the Julio-Claudian line.
Claudius’ eyes narrowed, perhaps reading their minds. ‘G-get on with it,’ he ordered, ‘Narcissus can’t keep Kosmas talking for too long.’
Magnus moved towards the body. ‘Come on, Ziri, help me get his tunic off and string him up.’
Poppaeus’ body swung upside down, naked on the rope in front of the blazing fire. Water was collecting in the roof of his mouth; it overflowed in trickles through his loose lips onto his face, filling his nostrils, and then dripped from his bald pate into a large puddle beneath him.
‘Right, that should be enough time; you hold him firm, sir,’ Magnus said to Vespasian.
Vespasian knelt and unwillingly placed his hands on Poppaeus’ clammy, skinny back.
‘Hold his mouth open, Ziri,’ Magnus ordered as he placed his hands on either side of the ribcage. He began to pump with hard, regular squeezes. A gush of water suddenly erupted from Poppaeus’ mouth, spraying over Magnus’ face and tunic; he kept pumping as the flow lessened until it stopped completely. ‘That should do it. Now we take him down and turn him onto his belly.’
Carefully they lowered the body face down on to the floor and undid the rope, removing the linen towels protecting his ankles. Magnus gave the back a few more squeezes to remove any residue still stuck in the windpipe.
‘Now we dry him and dress him,’ Pallas said once Magnus was satisfied that all the water was out.
Replacing the tunic and belt was easy but no one had foreseen the difficulty involved in draping a toga onto a dead body. Eventually, with Magnus and Ziri holding the lifeless mannequin upright, Vespasian and Corbulo managed to set the toga to Pallas’ satisfaction as Claudius lurched to and fro reminding everyone, unnecessarily, that time was pressing.
‘Get his arms over your shoulders and follow me,’ Pallas ordered Magnus and Ziri as he opened the door.
‘I never seen such madness,’ Ziri told Magnus as he hefted the body up, ‘not even at circus yesterday when you all started-’
‘Yes, yes, all right, Ziri,’ Magnus said, manoeuvring the body through the door.
Vespasian and Corbulo took a quick look around the room to make sure that none of Poppaeus’ possessions remained and then followed out into the garden.
‘I’ll w-w-wait for you here,’ Claudius said. ‘It’s the next bit that I’m looking f-forward to.’
‘I think that the crippled bastard is enjoying this,’ Corbulo complained as he and Vespasian slipped through the garden gate into a stable yard overshadowed by the huge bulk of the brick-built Servian wall of Rome at its far end.
Poppaeus’ covered litter was next to the steps. Pallas pulled back the curtains and indicated to the mound of pillows at one end. ‘Put him this way round with his head on the cushions.’
Magnus and Ziri heaved the body into the litter. Pallas then arranged it so that it appeared that Poppaeus was reclining on his right elbow. Vespasian and Corbulo helped him to stuff pillows around the torso, wedging it in position.
‘Arrange his clothes,’ Pallas said once satisfied with the pose, ‘I won’t be long.’
By the time Poppaeus’ toga looked natural Pallas had returned carrying Capella’s chest.
‘How did you get that off Kosmas?’ Vespasian asked, amazed.
Pallas gave a rare smile. ‘I didn’t, it’s an exact copy that I had made when you left me the original; the same locks and seven fake land deeds inside.’ He placed the chest next to Poppaeus and closed the curtains, tying them shut. ‘Magnus, go and get the bearers from the kitchens; put the fear of the gods into them so that they rush, we don’t want them looking inside the litter. Then follow them round to the front and stand in front of the only bearer who has a clear view of the steps, ready to open the litter curtains slightly when I give you the nod. Ziri, get the gate open.’
Magnus and Ziri hurried off; Pallas led Vespasian and Corbulo back into the garden where Claudius was waiting.
‘Now to complete the deception as we discussed yesterday. Remember, we walk through the atrium talking loudly about the elections as if Poppaeus is in our midst,’ Pallas reminded them as they walked through the garden. ‘As we near the door Narcissus will bring Kosmas out of his study so that he will see us from the rear. The key to it is for each of us to say the name Poppaeus a few times and laugh a lot; but try to keep it sounding natural.’
As they passed the table Pallas picked up Poppaeus’ walking stick and propped it up against the chair that he had sat in.
‘B-but my dear Poppaeus,’ Claudius almost shouted as they entered the atrium, ‘I can see no reason for me to support young Lucianus, he’s a b-b-buffoon.’
Pallas burst into laughter and Vespasian followed his lead. Corbulo’s aristocratic reserve held rigid and he remained silent.
‘Oh, well said, Poppaeus,’ Pallas guffawed, ‘you are so right.’
‘Will you support my brother this year in the praetor elections, Poppaeus?’ Vespasian asked, getting into the spirit of the ruse.
‘His brother is another buffoon, don’t you think, P-P-Poppaeus?’
They all gave another burst of laughter as they passed the impluvium.
‘I would be honoured if you would support me this year, Poppaeus,’ Corbulo blurted as Vespasian heard Narcissus’ study door open.
‘I missed that, Poppaeus,’ Pallas said, ‘what did you say?’ He gave another burst of laughter to cover the missing reply. ‘You are truly the wisest man in Rome, Poppaeus, it has been an honour to meet you.’
They passed through the vestibule and out through the open front door into the street with another round of laughter. Vespasian looked behind and saw Kosmas scurrying to catch up, clutching the real chest.
‘P-P-Poppaeus, it’s been a pleasure d-doing business,’ Claudius said as they walked down the steps in a tight group towards the waiting litter; Magnus stood blocking the line of sight of the rear nearside bearer. ‘I shall see you in the Forum presently.’
‘Allow me to help you in, Poppaeus,’ Pallas said, nodding at Magnus who pulled the curtain slightly open. Pallas took it with his left hand and passed his right hand up along the inside as if a head were rubbing against it as Kosmas came racing down the steps; Narcissus followed just behind him.
‘Your stick, Poppaeus? Of course I’ll send Kosmas back for it. Kosmas, your master has left his stick in the garden,’ Pallas said, letting the curtain go and turning to the secretary. ‘Here, let me help you while you go and fetch it.’ He took the chest under one arm and opened the curtain again, exposing Poppaeus’ legs for the secretary to see and placed the chest next to them as Narcissus walked around to the other side of the litter.
‘Quickly, Kosmas,’ Vespasian snapped, ‘Poppaeus is in a hurry, he has an urgent appointment in the Forum.’
‘I didn’t know about that,’ Kosmas said, looking confused.
Pallas stuck his head into the litter. ‘Of course, Poppaeus, I’ll tell him,’ Pallas said, reappearing. ‘The Forum Romanum, by the Rostra, as fast as possible,’ he ordered the bearers before turning to Kosmas. ‘He says to meet him there with his stick.’
Kosmas shrugged and hurried back inside as the litter was lifted and moved quickly off down the street exposing Narcissus, on the far side, standing with his back towards the house. Vespasian and Corbulo’s eyes widened in astonishment as he turned to face them; he was holding Capella’s chest.
‘Quick, take this around the back,’ Narcissus said as he handed the chest to Magnus, ‘we wouldn’t want our friend Kosmas to see it as he comes back out.’
Magnus had just enough time to clear around the corner as Kosmas came scuttling back out with Poppaeus’ stick.
‘Master,’ Narcissus cried, putting his hand to his forehead, ‘your book!’
‘Of course, Narcissus, thank you; where would I be without you?’ Claudius responded with equal melodrama. ‘Kosmas, wait a few moments while I find the first four volumes of my History of the Etruscans that I’d promised to lend your master.’
The hapless secretary glanced down the empty street and then back at Claudius who was already walking
