Graveyard of the Hesperides

LIV

Before I gave up, I made one last call. It was too late to tackle Liberalis; I saw sense. He would deny everything as usual. I was past my best for today. Perhaps the way to deal with such a nervous man was to have him arrested. If stuck in a cell, pure fear might make him talk. Macer could organize that.

Instead, I went to Mucky Mule Mews to see Gavius. His parents let me in but he was sleeping. Guarded by three silent dogs, he lay still, with very labored breathing. Infection had set in, so I was told; he was delirious. They had managed to feed him once or twice, as his grandmother said, but mostly he would not even take water. To me, he looked so feverish I feared for his life.

Though I was desperate to ask him questions, we did not disturb him. Leaving his father watching, I stepped out into the alley with his mother, Annina. She knew I had suggested moving Gavius somewhere safer, but he was too weak. Having seen him, I accepted that. Instead, Appius and the crew were coming after work and would then maintain a rota to protect him. I was afraid he would die despite them.

“I know you did your best, Flavia Albia.”

“We just want to discover who it was, so they can be punished and stopped.”

“I know you do.” It was the time of the evening when there were more people than usual in the alley. One or two of the women waved and smiled sympathetically at Annina.

“Look, Annina, I am sorry to nag about this, but has your boy said anything at all?”

She shook her head. “He can’t remember what happened. We asked him gently. He just became very agitated. Everyone has been so good, you know. All his cousins have been round to see how he is.” How many was that? No wonder we could not keep his survival a secret. The mother understood what I was thinking, because she said, “I’m sorry. It’s the old fellow. When people come, he does so like to chat with them. This is terrible, but it’s really brought him out of himself in a strange way. He lets them in because they are family and, well, you know how it is…”

I assured her I did.

I needed to distract her from maundering on about the breach of confidence. I asked abruptly, “I don’t suppose you have seen anything of Rufia today?” Although she had never admitted knowing Rufia was alive, I remembered the way she had spoken when I visited the barmaid’s old room. Now, Annina denied having any recent contact. I double-checked. “In view of all the interest in where she used to live, I wondered if she might have been to see the room again herself?”

“No. No, she hasn’t come.”

“But you knew she is in Rome?”

“Well, I heard a little whisper when I was out buying a few provisions…” Annina looked relieved that I knew.

“You liked her,” I suggested. “You kept her room for her, in case she came back. You knew all the time that she was still alive?”

She pursed her lips, then admitted, “Yes.”

“Did everyone know?”

“Oh no! No, they all thought she was under the courtyard.”

“That was what Rufia wanted them to think?”

“I suppose so.”

“And presumably she came and fetched her stuff that night? All her things? And I suppose her money?” I had guessed right, because Annina silently nodded.

I looked at her, perhaps reproachfully. Then she came out with the story: “She rushed in, saying she was going away, but pleading with me not to tell anyone. One of the mule-drovers was waiting outside with a couple of beasts-”

“Which drover?”

“I was indoors, I never saw him. She carried down her luggage and a lot of leather bags, money bags, I was certain. Then she let out a cry of relief-‘All done, we’ll be off now! Thanks for everything. Remember, you never saw me!’-and she rushed away.”

“Where was she going? Do you know where she has spent these ten years?”

“No.”

If Rufia wanted people to think her dead, of course she would not leave a forwarding address. “Somebody must have been told how to contact her,” I insisted. “Here she is, back after all this time, and it cannot be coincidence. She came because of what we have uncovered at the bar. Somebody sent a message.”

“Menendra perhaps? Rufia left her in charge of her little business.”

“She can’t have wanted to come. She looks old. Very infirm.”

“Well, she would be by now. Age wouldn’t stop her though. That one will be busy till she drops.”

Would she be busy killing people? I wondered if there were any more bars with skeletons under their sit-out patios. “So why do you think she did a moonlight flit?”

“Had enough of Thales? Wanted a fresh start? I don’t know, we didn’t talk about it. She was in a hurry. She just told me she was leaving, and please never to tell anybody.”

“Which you didn’t.”

“No. I can keep a secret. Anyway, no one ever asked.”

I smiled reassuringly, turning to go. At that point, Annina had a thought. Her mind must be so much on her son’s condition, she was forgetting things, even things that mattered. “He thought they were Egyptians!”

“What?”

“Gavius. He must have been delirious. I asked, ‘Have you anything to tell Flavia Albia, son?’ He murmured back, ‘I saw them going in. They were all Egyptians.’ Straight away he dozed off again, though he looked more peaceful, as if he thought he had said something important. Only that doesn’t make sense, does it?” Annina quavered.

Maybe not. Not if you thought Gavius was talking about when he was attacked in his home. But it made every sense if he really meant the night those murders happened at the bar.