I, Claudia

I
II

‘There’s a very handsome gentleman to see you, madam. Gives his name as Marcus Cornelius Orbilio.’

Claudia glanced at Melissa in the mirror. ‘To see me? Not my husband?’

‘You, madam.’

She was in a good mood. They had just returned from the Field of Mars, where, victorious from his campaign against the Alpine tribes in Gaul, Augustus unveiled his testament to success, the magnificent Altar of Peace. Watching the Tiber roll gently past as the Emperor expounded on a glorious age of sunshine and gold, where civil war was a thing of the past and expansion of the empire the only way forward, there wasn’t a Roman left standing who wasn’t bursting his tunic with patriotic pride. Mighty restorations had already begun-roads, bridges, temples, the lot. Why, in Rome alone eighty-two major renovation works were in progress. Day and night hammers reverberated round the city, turning brick into marble, clay into stone.

‘Then don’t just stand there, girl. Show him into the garden.’

She dabbed scent delicately behind her earlobes, prodded a wayward curl back into place and slid another gold ring on her long, slim finger. As an afterthought, she clipped a black onyx brooch to her tunic.

He was sitting on a white marble bench in the shade of a sour apple tree. High patrician nose. Firm square jaw. And a mop of dark, curly hair which showed no signs of thinning. Claudia doubted whether there was an ounce of fat on his body and conceded he’d make a formidable adversary, although at the moment he seemed to have met his match.

Back arched and hackles raised, Drusilla advanced sideways, growling menacingly in the back of her throat.

‘Pretty kitty.’

Claudia thought his voice lacked a certain conviction.

‘Mrrrrow.’

‘There you are, poppet.’ She scooped the glowering cat into her arms and turned to her visitor. ‘I see you’ve met Drusilla.’

Marcus Cornelius Orbilio stood up. ‘Claudia Seferius?’

‘Do I look like one of the slaves? What do you want?’

Orbilio glanced at Drusilla, who was scowling at his face as though she’d like to shred it to pieces, and squared his shoulders.

‘I’m empowered by the Security Police to investigate the murders of four high-ranking officials-’ He paused, and Claudia’s quick wits sent her bending to park an indignant Drusilla on the ground, knowing it would pass off the flood of colour to her face.

‘And?’

‘And I wondered whether you could spare me a little of your valuable time.’

Valuable time! Claudia clapped her hands and called for wine and figs and some pecorino cheese, which was her favourite. Then she forced herself to stare him out. Drusilla jumped up on to the sundial and copied her mistress.

‘Yes, well… Perhaps I can begin with asking you how well you knew Crassus.’

‘Who?’

‘Quintus Aurelius Crassus, the senator whose body was found in, shall we say, unusual circumstances last Saturday.’

‘Oh, him. Hardly at all. Why?’

‘Didn’t he dine here a week or two back?’

That was a shot in the dark, she thought. If he knew for certain, he’d name the date. ‘Everybody dines here at some stage,’ she said. ‘Was he the one who’d just come back from some dire little outpost?’

She turned to the dark-skinned slave girl hovering with the tray who was obviously hanging on every word. ‘Clear off, you. I’ll see to this.’

A smile twitched at the side of Orbilio’s mouth. ‘Something like that, yes. Did you know where his body was found?’

‘I heard a rumour.’ She thrust a glass of wine in his hand. ‘I heard it was in some ghastly slum.’

‘Then you heard right. It was one of the buildings owned by Ventidius Balbus. You know him, I presume?’

‘Everyone knows him,’ Claudia said, making a great show of helping herself to raisins. ‘What’s this got to do with my husband and myself?’

Orbilio leaned back to rest his spine against the bark of the tree. ‘Now who said this has anything to do with Gaius?’

Had the sun gone in? It seemed rather chilly all of a sudden.

‘Come to the point, Orbilio.’

He fished in his pouch and came out with a torn scrap of apple-green cotton. ‘This is the point,’ he said quietly. ‘It was found on the door of the room where poor old Crassus was killed. Looks like you caught it in your hurry to leave.’

Claudia took the proffered scrap. ‘It’s not mine,’ she said, tossing it over her shoulder where it landed to adorn a rosemary bush.

‘Oh, but it is.’

‘Rubbish. I wouldn’t be seen dead in that colour.’

‘I rather thought it would suit you,’ Orbilio replied, smoothly retrieving his evidence. ‘It would complement the tints in your hair.’

Claudia narrowed her eyes. ‘Then perhaps I should order some,’ she said sharply.

Orbilio smiled. ‘But you already have, remember? I know, because I spent all yesterday traipsing round mercer after mercer to see who sold this particular cotton in this particular colour and Gratidius, now-Gratidius remembers quite clearly it was the wife of Gaius Seferius who was so taken by the subtlety of the shade.’

‘Gratidius is old and he’s a fool with it. I’ll have you know, I’m not in the habit of visiting malodorous slums, Marcus Orbilio-’

‘Then you won’t mind if I have a look around, will you?’

Claudia jumped to her feet. ‘Yes, I bloody well would! How dare you come in here, you jumped-up little mongrel, and presume to search my house!’

Orbilio studied his thumbnail. ‘Would you prefer someone with higher status?’ he asked indifferently. ‘Someone, say, like Callisunus, who would bring his soldiers with him?’

‘That sounds suspiciously like blackmail, Orbilio, and I don’t like blackmailers.’

Orbilio sighed. ‘Sit down, Claudia, and try to remember I’m investigating the brutal murders of four of our most prominent citizens. Just to refresh your memory, that’s one prefect, one aedile, one retired senator and a jurist.’

‘Which you assume gives you the right to trample over decent folk in the process.’

‘For pity’s sake, woman! I’m busting my baldrics in the hope of reaching this lunatic before another unfortunate sod has his eyes gouged out and if that offends your sweet sensibilities, I couldn’t give a stuff!’

Realizing one of the slaves might be watching, Claudia seated herself with a show of indifference and nibbled an olive. He was whistling in the dark, she decided. He couldn’t prove she’d bought the fabric, and besides, if push came to shove, she could always slip Gratidius’s assistant a spot of silver-between them, they could manage to persuade the old mercer his memory was at fault here and she’d done nothing more than simply admire the colour.

No. What really irritated her was the fact that she’d slipped up. By heaven, she’d chop that wretched Melissa into pieces for not checking the stola was intact!

‘I’ll be discreet,’ he added, reaching up and plucking a sour apple.

‘Young man,’ she said. It sounded so pompous when he was virtually the same age as herself. ‘There’s no way in the world I’m having your greasy little fingers poking around in my underwear and that’s final.’

‘Would you mind, then, if I requested your husband’s permission?’

He was up to something, the bastard. She could smell it. He knew damn well she didn’t want Gaius involved.

‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Junius!’

A muscular young slave appeared as if by magic.

‘Junius, fetch my husband, will you?’

‘I’m sorry, madam, but the master’s already left for the baths.’

She shot Orbilio a glance. ‘How long ago?’

‘About an hour,’ the boy replied.

Curiously enough, it was shortly after that when Marcus Cornelius Orbilio came to call. Well, well! What a coincidence. She dismissed Junius with a curt nod. When she first thought this man would make a formidable adversary, she hadn’t expected him to be hers. No matter, she could be as sharp as a wagonload of monkeys when she chose. Four and a half years of easy living might have softened her physically, but Claudia Seferius had never once afforded herself the luxury of letting her guard drop. She picked a pink, sniffed deeply, then gave Orbilio her sunniest smile.

‘Why don’t we compromise?’

That seemed to shake him.

‘MELISSA!’ As did the pitch of her voice. ‘Ah, Melissa. See this,’ she pointed to the snippet of green cotton, ‘do I have anything in this colour?’

‘No, madam.’

The investigator frowned and pressed the fragment into the girl’s palm. ‘Look carefully,’ he said, his eyes darting from slave to mistress for signs of hidden communications. ‘It’s very important.’ Claudia studied her onyx brooch, careful that her eyes never once met Melissa’s.

‘Madam has nothing in this colour,’ the girl said, looking him coolly in the face before turning back to the house.

Claudia let her breath out slowly. ‘Anything else, Orbilio? I mean, you don’t want to turn the house upside down to see whether we’re concealing a chest full of eyes as well, do you?’

Orbilio pursed his lips sullenly. ‘No. That’s all for the moment, thank you.’

‘Good.’ Claudia swept to her feet and flounced along the shaded colonnade. ‘Then you can see yourself out,’ she called over her shoulder.