One Virgin Too Many

XV

We crossed the hall in silence and were making our way from the house. A latecomer rushed up the steps towards us, a senator in full fig and to my surprise a man I recognized. "Rutilius Gallicus!"

"Falco! What brings you here?"

"I could ask the same, sir."

He paused, catching his breath. "Duty."

"Well, you can't be one of the Arval Brothers, or you would be prettied up with corn tonight-This is Camillus Aelianus, by the way-the brother of Justinus, whom you met with me in Africa."

Just in time Gallicus remembered not to exclaim, Ah, the one who ought to have married that rich Spanish girl his brother pinched! "I heard a lot about you," he uttered instead. A mistake, as usual. Aelianus looked peeved. Embarrassed, Rutilius Gallicus dashed into his excuses for being here: "I may not have told you, Falco, I am a priest of the Cult of the Deified Emperors. I took over directly after Nero, actually-"

I whistled. This was a top-flight honor, with close imperial connections, which he would hold for life and then have carved very large on his tombstone. Even Aelianus forced himself to look impressed. "So you are attached to the Arvals after all, sir?"

"No more than I can help!" Gallicus shuddered, still at heart the straightforward north Italian. "I hold no brief for them, Falco. But in view of their role in praying for the health of the imperial house, I am automatically invited to their festivals."

"A free meal never comes amiss. I have heard a theory that election to be the new Master actually depends on a kitchen inspection, rather than the man's religious qualities."

"I can believe that." Rutilius smiled. "Look, are you two going in to the feast? I am sure I can arrange it-"

"Not tactful, I'm afraid." Taking a chance that he belonged to the inner circle who knew all about the murder in the Grove, I added, "My young friend Camillus had the misfortune to discover a bloody corpse last night. You may have heard the story. We were just here asking some awkward questions. The Brothers are clearly sensitive about the incident; our faces won't fit at the party."

Rutilius glanced about, as if making sure we were not overheard. "Yes. I just came from the Palace; we were talking about exactly that. It's why I am late. Titus and Domitian Caesar would normally have been here-"

"Policy decision? It's tricky protocol," I sympathized. "If they stay at home over a tragedy that nobody could help, it looks cold-blooded. But if this murder blows up into a scandal on the lurid page of the Daily Gazette, the princes will not want their names linked… Let me guess: the lads in purple have been struck wth an inexplicable stomach upset, and you are bringing their sincere apologies?"

"Domitian has a stomach upset," Rutilius agreed. "Titus elected for suddenly remembering the birthday of a very ancient aunt."

"Ah well, he gets a quiet evening in the arms of the phenomenal Berenice."

"Wonderful for both of them! Falco, I must dash inside-"

We bade him good evening and left the marine-style villa. After a while Aelianus asked, "So what did you make of all that?"

"Intriguing. A woman goes mad and knifes a relative-only she dresses it up as a religious sacrifice." I paused. "It must have taken some doing. The killing would have been difficult, even in a frenzy-but then, after that strenuous effort, she had to maneuver the corpse to drain out the blood…" We both grimaced.

"Is this murder just an act of sudden madness, Falco, or do you think the victim had upset her particularly?"

"Well, something probably triggered her action. Not at the Games. A previous incident, because there was quite a lot of planning involved. She had dressed herself up as a priestess, and gone to the Grove equipped with sacrificial implements."

"Do you think she and the man traveled there together?"

"Doubt it. He would have wondered about the religious accoutrements. A woman of standing would not normally travel out of Rome alone, though. She got there somehow. She must have had transport, if not a companion."

"For a woman of standing, discreet transport is no problem. Half the scandals in Rome rely on it. So she took herself to the Games and confronted the man, fully intending to kill him? There can be no mitigating circumstances-yet now what, Falco? The crazed killer is simply returned to her family? Sent home in the same discreet transport, presumably! And allowed to continue her normal life?"

"Well, the Master said they are going to guard her," I said dryly. "If it was her husband she killed, perhaps all they have to do is ensure she never remarries. Though no doubt if she does, they will issue the new chap with a warning never to turn his back when she's slicing smoked meat."

"Oh, wonderful! Was that rude old man we passed earlier at the Master's house a relative coming to beg the Arvals to sanction the coverup?"

"Seems likely."

"Well, I think it's disgraceful if they get away with it."

Since he had been born into the top circle where such cover-ups were permissible, I refrained from comment. What was to gain by publicizing this woman's tragedy? A trial and execution would only be an added misery for her relatives. They could afford drugs to calm her and guards to restrain her. Plenty of perfectly ordinary Aventine families have batty old aunts who are kept well away from the kindling axe.

I walked with Aelianus to the senator's house to make sure that no muggers jumped him, then made my own way over the Aventine. Several times on the dark journey, I thought I heard footsteps following me, but I saw no one. In Rome, at night, all sorts of suspicious noises can make you nervous once you let yourself start hearing them.