Alexandria

XXXII

We inspected the crocodile's enclosure. Sobek was lying at the bottom of the pit, feigning sleep. To encourage him to stay there, several chunks of new meat had been thrown down. Chaeteas was watching over him. Like his comrade, Chaereas, he was a pleasant-featured man of middle years and calm temperament, who looked to be of native Egyptian origin; they were so similar, they were possibly related. I had always received the impression these two were content with their work. They seemed genuinely fond of the animals and keen on the pursuit of science. At the postmortem they had behaved with a discretion that seemed to come naturally. They appeared to have a close relationship with Philadelphion. He relied on them and they had respect for him. These qualities are plainly desirable, yet in my experience, between employers and their staff neither occurs frequently. In many professions it never happens. Mine, normally.

I examined the damaged top gate by daylight. It was mainly of wood, since the crocodile was never intended to reach it. It certainly looked as if it could have been chewed by a vicious reptile, though there could be equally persuasive alternatives. The way struts were torn out and one side smashed off its hinges could just as easily have been done with an axe (say). I lacked the forensic skill to distinguish; so would most people, as a villain might realise. Newly splintered wood is newly splintered wood. 'Are you satisfied,' I asked Chaeteas, 'that Sobek did this?' He nodded.

'If so, why did he break out?'

As if he had been with Helena and me yesterday when we were told about the Khamseen, Chaeteas blamed the disturbing effects of the fifty-day wind.

Chaeteas offered to take me down to see the lower gate as well. Under Sobek's evil gaze, I was satisfied to squint at long distance.

The other gate was made of metal and had not been so badly mangled. It looked a bit buckled, but the enormous Sobek could have thrashed it with his tail as he passed through. Chaeteas admitted sheepishly that a chain and padlock had inadvertently been left unsecured last night. I gave him a straight look. He then confessed this was not the first time – though he claimed it was the only occasion Sobek took notice and escaped. Philadelphion normally found and corrected the error when he made his nightly rounds.

According to Chaeteas, he and Chaereas always tended the beast together. Zoo routines forbade anything else. Sobek was so big, no one ever took solo trips down to his pit. It was impossible to say which of the pair had been responsible for not fastening the padlock as neither could remember.

'And what,' I asked, 'is your explanation for the goat on a rope I found?'

'Someone taunted him. Maybe the young fellow who died.'

That jarred with me. Helena, who had been listening in silence, also thought it seemed an easy way of making out that Heras had brought death on himself. 'He was not the type for taunting,' she retorted bitterly.

Helena and I went to see Philadelphion. When we arrived, he was being harangued by the Director. Philetus would happily reprimand his colleagues in front of strangers, however eminent those colleagues were. 'I have warned you! Your association with this woman brings the Museion into disrepute. You must end it immediately. She is not to enter Museion premises again.'

Philadelphion had been receiving his rebuke with pinched lips. In some respects he looked like a schoolboy whose misdemeanours had caused many a teacher's tantrum before. As the Director paused for breath, the Zoo Keeper's handsome features flushed, however; I suspect because we were listening. 'You may be on my shortlist -' Philetus made no attempt to curb the nastiness in his tone -'but do remember, I can only recommend a man of unsullied principles!'

Whirled by his own moral superiority, Philetus flew from the Zoo Keeper's office. He whipped up a breeze with his robe so angrily, a scroll on the desk began unrolling. Helena put out a slim hand and steadied it.

'As you see,' Philadelphion remarked to me, once the man had left, 'I am formally forbidden to present Roxana to you at the zoo this morning!'

He assumed a slight smile, the kind that often means a patient man is thinking how dearly he would like to throttle the bastard who has been insulting him. How slowly he would draw out the death, and how much pain he would inflict…

I spoke gently: 'I gather senior members have to be above reproach?'

'Senior members,' grated Philadelphion, now letting all his resentment show, 'can be fools, liars, cheats or buffoons – well, you have met my colleagues, Falco – but they must never reveal that they are having a more pleasant life than the Director.'

Helena's chin was up. I flashed her a grin, including the Zoo Keeper. 'So do what you like, but don't let him find out?'

Philadelphion bridled. 'The lady Roxana is intelligent, well-bred, well-read and a charming hostess.' That sounded next best thing to a courtesan. When I met her she certainly came over as a game girl. The way she shot up that palm tree did the lass credit. I believed him that the sweet Roxana could discuss Socrates at the same time as serving a plate of fig fancies. I could imagine the rest of her talents too.

'Philetus objects to your charming friend visiting you here?' asked Helena, coolly.

'She never does,' Philadelphion said. 'I see her at her house.'

'But she came here last night?'

His face shadowed at the correction. He almost looked guilty. 'Exceptionally.'

'By appointment?' I queried.

'No. She must have had some reason to speak to me urgently'

'You don't know what?' Helena took it up again. Philadelphion shook his head, as if she was a fly tormenting him.

My turn: 'So where were you last night?'

He looked as if he was about to say something different, then: 'In my office,' he answered, so firmly it sounded unreliable. 'Until I heard the commotion and came running.'

'In your office – doing what?' I pressed him.

'Catching up on the zoo accounts.' He indicated the scroll on his desk, which was indeed sitting next to an abacus. Cynically I wondered if the abacus had been placed there this morning deliberately. Helena picked up the scroll, as if unaware she was doing it; almost idly, she unravelled a little of the end, while I continued the questions.

'Any idea what the young man Heras could have been doing in your zoo last night, Philadelphion?'

'None. Maybe students came for pranks, but we found nothing.'

Young men's pranks seemed to be the Museion's excuse for anything unusual. 'We met him. Heras did not seem one to lark about.'

'I know very little about him,' said Philadelphion. 'He was not a science student. I understand he was in Alexandria to learn rhetoric, intending a public career. Someone said he came with you to the necropsy of Theon.'

'He was friends with my young brother-in-law. Did he know Roxana?'

'Not at all.'

'You asked her?' Helena put in. It made Philadelphion pause. When this pause lasted a long time, Helena altered tack: 'Well! Can we discuss the shortlist tor the post of Librarian? Many congratulations on being included – but the obvious questions are, how do you rate your own chances and how do you feel about your rivals?'

Philadelphion had previously been disposed to gossip; he did not fail us now: 'Zenon is the dark horse – who knows what Zenon thinks, or how he will perform? Philetus obviously wants to give the post to Apollophanes, but will even our Director be so brazen as to recommend his own satellite? You could see Philetus starting to try to manipulate the list when he talked to me just now. He was threatening me – looking for excuses to support another candidate.'

'Marcus Didius and I were disappointed not to see Timosthenes given a chance.'

'Not as disappointed as him. He took his omission very nastily'

'What of Nicanor?' Helena prompted.

'Nicanor thinks himself well qualified.'

'What do you think?' She did not mention Nicanor's offer to bribe me, in case he thought she was hinting.

'A bully. Frankly, I shudder at the prospect of working with him.'

'Someone suggested that Nicanor admires Roxana,' Helena put forward quietly.

'Many people who know her admire Roxana,' Philadelphion snapped back tetchily.

Helena had a tricky expression. Quickly, I weighed in and returned to asking what Roxana had told her lover about the Sobek incident. His version ran: she had come to find him; on the way she heard odd noises; she bravely ventured to investigate and found Sobek killing and eating Heras. Roxana yelled, so the crocodile left the body; she realised the beast was about to attack her too, so she climbed the tree and shouted for help. Then I came along – 'For which Roxana and I must thank you, Falco, most sincerely.'

Helena purred that that was unnecessary; no doubt when we saw Roxana, she would thank me herself.

Chaereas was deputed to take us to Roxana's house.

On the way there I asked Chaereas about last night and he told me the same stuff we had heard from Chaeteas. Exactly the same. He too blamed an uncharacteristic escape by Sobek. He too called the death of Heras an accident. He had no explanation for the goat.

'Had you and your colleague perhaps used the meat to feed Sobek?'

'Oh no,' Chaereas assured us.

On arrival, he left us to go in by ourselves. Roxana had rooms in an anonymous building, up a dusty staircase, off an uninspiring street. This was typical of Alexandria. In Rome it would have told us she was a struggling manicurist, with five children by three fathers. Here, it meant nothing.

Inside was quite different. Discreet servants padded about a large apartment that was decorated with subtle, extremely feminine opulence. There were rugs everywhere; there were seats formed from enormous cushions; there was much gleaming copperware, ivory and elaborate small pieces of furniture carved from rare woods. I could not see any scroll boxes to confirm the claim of intellectual competence, but I was prepared to believe philosophy and plays were hidden away somewhere. Either Roxana had inherited money or she had had a rich husband – whether living or deceased; or a lover, or more than one, spent a lot on her. Helena was making an inventory scathingly.

Cleaned up, the Zoo Keeper's ladyfriend looked like a Vestal Virgin's younger sister. When she appeared (which took some time), Roxana wore discreet robes in dark colours, a plain hairstyle and little jewellery. She moved into the room in a quiet hum of unnerving perfume, but was otherwise not exotic. Mind you, she gave the impression she could make herself just about as exotic as anybody wanted, if she chose.

Helena Justina failed to warm to her. Somehow I expected that. Helena's presence at my side clearly surprised the lady. I must be the first good-looking man who, on coming to see Roxana, brought his wife. Well, that just showed her what clean-living persons Roman husbands were. And how well supervised.

Roxana's evidence about the Heras tragedy was as well thought out and organised as her appearance. She told us exactly the same story as Philadelphion. They corroborated one another as tightly as Chaereas and Chaeteas had done. Rarely can descriptions have been so mathematically co-ordinated. My instinct was not to waste much time here.

It was Helena who took charge of the situation.

'Thank you, Roxana. That was, if I may say so, an extremely clear and beautifully expressed witness statement.'

Throughout our interview so far, Roxana had given the impression of being slightly pent-up, but at this warm-hearted praise she relaxed, at least technically. If anything, she seemed puzzled, as if unsure how to take Helena. I enjoyed watching these two engage so stiffly.

Helena then turned to the servant who had placed herself near the doorway in the attitude of a chaperon. Placing a hand delicately on her pregnant belly, my trusty assistant begged sweetly, 'I am so sorry to be a nuisance, but could you possibly organise something to drink for us -just water will be absolutely fine, or mint tea would be delectable…' The maid withdrew, muttering darkly, then Helena snapped upright. 'Marcus darling, stop jiggling about like a three-year-old. If you want to stretch your legs, go and do so.'

I never jiggle. Still, I knew a big hint when it hit me. I shuffled from the room with a shifty expression – then applied my ear to the door.

Helena must have turned back to Roxana. 'Right! Now we are quite alone, so you can be frank, my dear.' Perhaps Roxana had fluttered her eyelashes. Waste of time. Helena was crisp. 'Listen to me, please. My husband was nearly killed last night and another poor young man did lose his life most terribly. I want to know who caused that and I am not interested in pathetic taradiddles, cobbled together to preserve people's reputations.'

'I have told you what happened!' Roxana cried.

'No; you have not. Now here is what will happen. You can tell me the truth now, then you and I, like sensible women, will work out how to handle it. Otherwise, Marcus Didius, who is neither as stupid nor as susceptible as you obviously think, will explode your false evidence. Of course you thought he swallowed your story. Believe me, he doubts every word. Being a man, he won't say so to a pretty woman's face. But he is utterly competent and always direct. If – that means, when – Falco uncovers the truth of what happened at the zoo, he will make it public. He has no choice. You must see that. He is the Emperor's man and must be seen to expose lies.' Helena dropped her voice. I could hardly hear it. 'So, I suppose Philadelphion bullied you into telling us this tale. Is it him you are afraid of – or someone else, Roxana?'

I never have much luck. At this point, the damned servant decided to mooch back with a beaten-up tray of skinny refreshments. For several minutes I was locked in a sign-language tussle with her. In the end, the only way I could get rid of the inept factotum was to shoo her off as if sending a bunch of heifers through a hedge; it must have been fully audible from inside the room.

I had seized the tray myself from her clammy grasp. I knocked quickly and entered the room just as Roxana exclaimed, with heartfelt drama: 'Somebody let out Sobek deliberately. They cannot have known I would be there with that boy, Heras.'

'What – up to no good with him?'

'I deny it! Normally Philadelphion would have been going around to check on all the animals – so what you should be considering is that somebody was trying to make the crocodile kill him!'

The ladies turned their gaze on me. 'And who might that have been?' I enquired, mildly. 'Who wants Philadelphion dead?'

'Nicanor!' blazed Roxana. 'You fool, Falco – it's obvious!'

I put down the tray on a small table and set about serving mint tea for everyone.