Alexandria

XXXI

Someone threw a cover over the corpse. Not before time. Aulus stood up. He seemed fine for a moment, then turned aside and violently vomited.

In an ideal world, we would have begun questioning people then and there. That was impossible. I was too exhausted, my assistant was in shock, witnesses were hysterical and crowds were milling everywhere. I wanted to get as far away from the crocodile as possible. I muttered to Philadelphion tersely that I would require to see his mistress and his staff first thing next morning, with no excuses. I exchanged a nod with Thalia. I could trust her to keep a discreet eye on the zoo area; I would speak to her tomorrow before I saw anybody else. I took Aulus home with me. We managed to hitch a ride on a cart; our journey passed in complete silence.

Aulus was devastated. He had seen corpses before, but as far as I knew, never that of a friend. The young man Heras had died terribly; Aulus was envisaging just how bad it must have been. As soon as we went indoors, I sent him to bed with a drink. He remained morose. I was none too chatty myself.

Next day, Helena woke me at dawn. She was gentle but persistent. Although this was what I wanted, it was difficult to rouse myself. My limbs were stiff and I was covered in grazes and bruises, so I ached all over. As she slathered on ointment, Helena knew how to hide her concern, but after nearly losing me she insisted on accompanying me when I went out. We left her brother sleeping. Albia and Cassius had been primed to look after him, once he woke in his own time. 'Let him come to the Museion and help, if that seems to be what he wants.'

'Will that make him feel better?'Albia had a scornful way of speaking sometimes.

'It may help Aulus,' Helena answered. 'Nothing can be done for the dead young man – Marcus Didius understands that. But there are other considerations. We need to find out what happened.'

Albia backed down. She was brusque but practical: 'To know what happened for his family, to prevent similar accidents…'

Answers might help me too.

Helena and I crossed the city back to the Museion as the bakers were riddling out their ovens ready for the first loaves of the day. Sleepy-eyed workers were already walking to their places of business in the Mediterranean way. Women with no weight on them were shouting at slovenly, flabby men, who cursed back grumpily; heavier and older females swept or mopped pavements outside half-open premises. Horses stood between the shafts. Passers-by could already buy pastries. Way across the bay, the Pharos was entirely hidden, sheathed in thick mist. It explained why they needed a lighthouse.

Even at the Museion people stirred. News of last night's tragedy had percolated the dormitories. Some of the dreamers would take a long time to find out what had happened; others were eager to gossip straight away. I urgently needed to start my enquiries, before rumours stuck and became accepted fact.

We found Thalia glumly sipping at a scented concoction in a beaker, flopped in the doorway to her fantastic marquee. Nothing like the ten-man military tents with which I was familiar but closer to a huge bedouin dwelling-place, it was a long, dark red construction, colour-fully swagged and flagged on every seam and guy-rope. The tent alone confirmed how well she was doing financially.

All kinds of water and food containers were cluttered outside. Amongst the clutter, in a large basket beside her lurked Jason, the python; I recognised his tall woven container and could tell from Thalia's awakening grin that she would tease me about him. Jason's idea of fun was to slither up behind me and stare under my tunic. I hated that. Helena quite liked him and was liable to ask to have him let out of the basket.

Folding stools were fetched and we joined Thalia. I ended up next to the snake basket; I could feel Jason thumping against the side, anxious to come and alarm me with practical jokes as usual.

Thalia was completely covered up; she had a warm woollen cloak wrapped around her, keeping her decent from ankle to throat. This strange decorum showed even she thought the recapture of Sobek had been a dangerously close business. 'That was a disaster last night, Falco!' Her voice croaked harshly as her sombre mood returned.

'Are you all right?' Helena asked.

'Women's business.'

Refreshments had been brought for us. I cradled a beaker, in the black mood of a man who had been recently knocked half senseless and who had not recovered his equilibrium. 'I have had more relaxed evenings… What's the word?'

Thalia took her time. Eventually she said, 'I sent some of my people over there this morning – take a look, ask about. The story is, Sobek grew suddenly keen on a day trip to Lake Mareotis. He broke out before his keepers noticed. The young student came across him unexpectedly, then was killed trying to intervene to save the woman. Who knows why she was cavorting there? But all a sad accident.'

'Her name is Roxana,' Helena informed Thalia, in an innocent tone she used sometimes. I knew better. Helena had picked up that Thalia harboured some grudge against Roxana. Possibly she just hated members of the public who caused problems with animals; perhaps there was more to it.

'So I believe,' returned Thalia, sounding sour. I put down this definite needle as contempt for fancy dolls who tripped around in the dark, having to be rescued. Thalia had a jaded view of the public's lack of common sense.

'Had you met her before?' Helena enquired.

'I don't mingle with that sort.'

'How did the gates get broken?' I asked. 'Did Sobek smash them?'

'That's the story.'

'Do I believe it?'

'Believe what you like!' Thalia was definitely not herself today. 'Crocodiles are unpredictable, they are intelligent and skilful, they have devastating strength -'

'I don't need to be reminded!'

'And if he wanted to eat half a gate, Sobek could do it.'

Thalia relapsed into silence so Helena filled in more for herself: 'On the other hand, the zoo has had Sobek almost all his life and the keepers say he is fifty. Confinement must be all he can remember. Sobek is thoroughly pampered, fed daily with more treats than a wild crocodile ever dares to hope for. His keepers love him and regard him as tame. He is very intelligent – so why would he try to leave?'

'Who knows?' Thalia grunted. 'Once he did get out, he had a fine time – but that's what any croc would do. Perhaps he really did want an expedition and a little rampage. The lad was there in his way. I dare say he tried to run – well, Sobek would have only one reaction to that. It was just an accident.'

'So that's the official story. You believe it?' I asked.

'Yes, I do, Falco.'

'Well, I don't. Calling this an accident is sheer nonsense. Somebody lured Sobek out deliberately, with a piece of goat on a long rope.'

'Whatever you say, Falco.' Thalia unaccountably lost interest.

I trusted Thalia. Nonetheless, as Helena and I walked to the Zoo Keeper's quarters after we left the circus tent, neither of us said much. Perhaps we were both pondering how tricky it is when somebody you have liked and trusted for years starts closing up suspiciously.