Alexandria

XIII

The reaction lasted some minutes. During the uproar, as men turned to each other and exchanged ideas excitedly, I slipped from my seat and walked down to the central area.

'Philadelphion, greetings and congratulations on your work today. My name is Didius Falco -'

'The Emperor's man!'

I raised an eyebrow. He must have seen there was a stranger in the audience – nothing wrong with his vision; those large, good-looking eyes could do both close focus and distance – but this was inside knowledge. 'You heard I was coming?'

Silver-haired and svelte, the handsome lecturer smiled. 'This is Alexandria.''

The noise was dying down. Questions were now being put to Philadelphion, including 'Why would Theon have been locked in?'

Philadelphion raised his hands for hush. 'Answering this is not in my remit. But here is the Prefect's special investigator – Falco, do you mind? – who may be able to explain more.'

I noticed he did not identify me as coming from Rome, Vespasian's agent. Nice courtesy.

Philadelphion withdrew to a seat, leaving me unexpectedly with the floor.

'My name is Didius Falco. As Philadelphion said, I have been asked to run the enquiry into Theon's death. You have all been sitting here a good while, and what we have seen was harrowing, so I won't prolong the agony. But I am glad to introduce myself. While we are all together here, may I ask that if any of you know anything useful about what happened, please see me privately as soon as possible.'

There was some shuffling, as people who had never helped a law and order investigation before looked nervous. I dealt with some low levels of society where everyone knew all too well how it worked. I had to remind myself there were polite circles where the witnesses would feel uncertain what was expected of them.

'One of you just asked: why would Theon have been locked in? His room, which I have seen, can only be locked from outside. So if he committed suicide, that locked door is odd. If he was murdered, it makes sense; it would ensure he could not seek help before any poison took effect. Philadelphion, did your examination give any clues to the length of time between ingestion and death?'

He did not trouble to rise but answered, 'No; it depends what the poison was. I hope to find out more tomorrow. Plant poisons can take from minutes to several hours, or sometimes days.'

'Long-acting ones are less attractive both to murderers and suicides,'' I commented.

'Is there not another possibility?' asked a bright-looking youth at the side of the room. 'That the leaves and seeds could have been eaten by Theon in the hope they would be an antidote to some other poison?'

Philadelphion turned in his seat. 'That, too, will depend upon identification – assuming it is possible.'

The lad was in his stride. 'Theon might not even have swallowed any poison, merely feared he had. The antidote leaves might then themselves have caused more reaction than he wanted -' This young man had a vigorous imagination, the type that likes things really complicated.

'I shall bear those factors in mind,' replied Philadelphion patiently.

We were starting to go around in circles. I intervened. 'Now listen – it's late, we are all exhausted. I am satisfied that Philadelphion's excellent examination has isolated a substance that could well have killed Theon. Without proper identification, further speculation this evening is pointless. Know when to let things take their time,' I warned, taking the role of a hoary professional. 'Let me say this. Even if Theon killed himself, somebody else locked the door on him. I want to know who, and why. I need any information you can give me. Who saw it happen? Who saw anybody going to see Theon? It has been suggested he was anxious recently. Who knows why? Who talked to him and heard him let slip some worry about his health, his work, his private life? And, if there was foul play here, who was his enemy? Who was jealous? Who wanted his research, his written treatise, his unique collection of black-figure vases, the mistress he kept secretly or the mistress he stole from somebody else and flaunted openly?…'

Philadelphion gave me a bright look, as if he was shocked by the suggestion. Aeacidas and Apollophanes were half laughing; Theon was definitely not a ladies' man. 'Who wanted his job?' I asked in a neutral tone. Now that could be more than one person present.

Nobody volunteered answers. That would come later, if I was fortunate. I knew they would hotly debate the questions. I knew people might start sneaking up to me from tomorrow – possibly even tonight. Some would want to help, some would want attention, some would undoubtedly be keen to dish dirt on their esteemed academic colleagues.

Philadelphion and I made it clear the meeting was to break up. I invited him home with me to dinner; he said he had a prior engagement in a private house. It must have been with established friends because he invited me to go along with him. By then I needed to go home to reassure Helena. Aulus and I took his young friend Heras with us.

When we left the Museion building, we had lost all sense of time and space. The necropsy had been so intense we felt we had been in another world.

Out of doors, the sky still retained some light, but darkness was steadily falling. It increased our feeling that we had been rapt for much longer than a few hours. We were drained. We were hungry. We were overwhelmed.

The audience dispersed quickly. Many of the others were hurrying off to the refectory. Some were in small groups, though a surprising number went alone. Scholars seemed to huddle into themselves more than people in most large groups.

Aulus, Heras and I walked back from the great Museion complex, through the well-lit streets of Brucheion to my uncle's house. We made our way together in silence, with a great deal to remember and to think about.

Alexandria was alive and vibrant at night, though to me did not seem threatening. Businesses were still open. Families were in their shops or strolling through their neighbourhoods. This was the largest port in the world, so sailors and traders were inevitably roistering, but they were close to the wharves and the Emporium, not so much in the broad avenues. There, daily life continued long after dusk as half a million people, of many nationalities, hailed one another, ate street food, chattered and dreamed, worked and gambled, picked pockets, exchanged goods, held assignations, complained about Roman taxes, insulted other sects, insulted their in-laws, cheated and fornicated. As the restive wind came off the sea, it brought the tug of the Mediterranean. We passed a temple and heard the shiver of a sistrum. Soldiers marched by us, with the familiar legionary tramp. We were in Egypt, yet only on the northern edge of it. We caught glimpses of its strangeness, yet were half in the world we thought we knew.

The necropsy had affected me. I was glad to step into the blaze of my uncle's house, to be met by the howls of my children, who had had a fractious day. Then I was enfolded in Helena Justina's warm embrace. She leaned back, quizzing me silently. She would be eager for news of today, and in the hearing, she would soften its inhumanities with her gentle sanity.