Venus In Copper

Chapter XIX



Since my clients had demanded more evidence, at first light I set off, armed with the name and address I had been given by Lusius at the Praetor's house: I was going to interview the doctor who had been called to Severina's second husband, the apothecary, after he had choked.

The quack was highly annoyed at being disturbed so early, though not so annoyed as I was when I discovered his uselessness. My frustration was nothing new to him; I gathered Lusius had been just as short with him at their previous interview.

'I told the clerk the facts, and facts don't change!' This presupposed that the self-opinionated duffer had the facts right in the first place--something I soon doubted. 'The apothecary went into convulsions -'

'Were you there then?'

'I was told! Then his servants ran away, while the wife did her best to revive him.'

'No luck?'

'She could hardly get near. The man was struggling violently--'

'You mean -'

'Don't you tell me my professional duty!' he interrupted angrily, though my unposed question had been perfectly subservient. 'I've already had all this from the Praetor's clerk! He wanted to convince me the wife may have suffocated her husband--' So my friend Lusius had been diligent in his earlier investigation. 'It's nonsense. The poor woman was badly shaken and bruised, but she did her best. Eprius must have lashed out so hard he nearly knocked her senseless too -'

'Don't you find that suspicious, if she was helping him?'

'Certainly not. He had no idea what he was doing; he was having a fatal fit!'

'Try this scenario,' I insisted. 'Severina had tried to poison him; it was not working properly so she held him down; Eprius understood what was going on and fought with her -'

'Unnecessary speculation. I found the medicament that choked him.'

'Did you preserve it?'

'Of course,' he replied coldly. 'I gave the item to the Praetor's clerk.'

'I believe it was a cough lozenge. An apothecary ought to have known how to suck a jujube! Had you prescribed it for him?'

'I was not his doctor. I doubt if he had a doctor; he was qualified to make up medicines for himself. They called me to the accident because I lived nearby. Eprius was already dead when I got there; there was nothing anyone could do but comfort the widow. Luckily a freedman she knew happened to call at the house, so I was able to leave her being cared for by a friend -'

'She recovered!' I assured him. 'She remarried within the month.'

The arrogant noodle still refused to make an adverse report.

The story he told me was chilling, though it took me no further forwards. I left in disgust. Yet I was still determined to prove to Pollia and Atilia that my expenses were well earned. Since I had drawn a blank with the beadseller and the apothecary, my last resort was the importer of wild beasts.

I hired a mule, and rode out to the north-east part of the city. I knew that animals for the arena were housed beyond the city boundary, the other side of the main Praetorian Camp. Before I even reached the bestiary I could hear roaring and trumpeting, strangely incongruous in the environs of Rome. The Imperial menagerie had every strange creature I had ever heard of, and plenty besides. I made my initial enquiries with crocodiles snapping in cages behind me and ostriches looking over the shoulders of everyone I approached. All around were half-dead rhinos, sad apes, and lacklustre leopards, attended by long-haired men who looked as surly and unpredictable as the animals themselves. The smell was sour and disconcerting. Between all the cages there was a thin wash of sordid-looking mud underfoot.

I had asked for Grittius Fronto's nephew. I learned that the nephew was back in Egypt, but if I was trying to arrange party entertainment of a spectacular nature I ought to speak to Thalia. Since I never know when to cut and run, I followed directions to a striped tent where I boldly pulled back the entrance flap and even more recklessly went in.

'Ooh!' shrieked a voice that would sharpen ploughshares. 'My lucky day!'

She was a big girl. By which I mean... nothing. She was taller than me. She was big, all over; she was young enough to be described as a girl without too much irreverence; and I was able to see that her assets were entirely in proportion to the height of her. Her attire was what the well-dressed artiste was wearing that month: a few stars, a couple of ostrich feathers (which explained why some of the birds I had seen outside looked so miffed), a skimpy drape of transparent stuff--and a necklace.

The necklace might pass for coral--until you observed that its jewelled folds sometimes shuddered with a sluggish allure. From time to time an end of it slipped from her neck and she draped it back dismissively. It was a live snake.

'Unusual, eh?' She had a peaceful expression which told its own story; in any contest with a tricky reptile I would feel sorry for the snake.

'With a gem like that decorating your windpipe, I imagine you rarely encounter trouble from men!'

'Men are always trouble, darling!'

I smiled apologetically. 'All I want is a few kind words.'

She cackled with ribald laughter. 'That's what they all say!' Then she gazed at me as if she wanted to mother me. I was terrified. 'I'm Thalia.'

'One of the Graces!' This case was tilting into lunacy.

'Oh my word; you're a cheeky one--what's your name?' Against my better judgement I told her my name. 'Well, Falco? Have you run away from home to be a lion-tamer?'

'No; my mother wouldn't let me. Are you a contortionist?'

'Anyone would turn into a contortionist if they had a python looking up their -'

'Quite!' I interjected hastily.

'I am a professional snake dancer,' she informed me coolly.

'I see! Is this the snake you dance with?'

'What this? This is just for everyday wear! The one in my act is twenty times this size!'

'Sorry. I thought you might have been rehearsing.'

The snake dancer grimaced. 'What I do at a performance is dangerous enough if you're paid for it! Who needs to rehearse?'

I grinned. 'I'd like to see the act some time!'

Thalia gave me the shrewd, still stare of people who live with venomous animals. She was used to paying attention even when she seemed to be busy elsewhere. 'What do you want, Falco?'

I told her the truth. 'I'm an informer. I'm trying to finger a murderer. I've come to ask if you ever knew a man called Grittius Fronto?'

Thalia tidied her snake again. 'I knew Fronto.'

She patted the bench beside her. Since her manner seemed not unfriendly (and the snake appeared to be sleeping) I risked the close approach. 'I've been speaking to the clerk who helped the Praetor's investigation into Fronto's death; did Lusius ever talk to you?'

'Who trusts a female who does unusual things with snakes?'

'People should!' (It seemed a moment for gallantry.)

She nodded. I could see she was depressed. 'Some men are attracted to danger--at the time Fronto died my latest disaster was an unsteady tightrope walker so short-sighted he could never see his balls!'

I tried to look sympathetic. 'Wasn't a tightrope walker mauled in the same accident?'

'He would never have been the same again--but I nursed him through.'

'Still with him?'

'No! He caught a cold and died of that--men are such bastards!'

The snake suddenly unravelled and expressed a startling interest in my face. I tried to sit tight. Thalia tucked it back in place around her neck, two loops, then head and tail neatly below her ample chin. Since I was too faint to speak, she set off unaided: 'Fronto had an import business; had it for years. In some ways he was good at it, but his nephew did the hard work, finding the animals in Africa and India, then shipping them home. The best times for arena fighting were under Nero, but even during the troubles there were sidelines like mine--and plenty of private customers who wanted strange beasts to exhibit on their estates.'

I nodded. Rome had done its bit towards eliminating vicious species from the wilder provinces. Tigers stripped from India and the Caucasus. Whole herds of destructive elephants wiped out in Mauretania. Snakes too, presumably.

'What do you want to know?' Thalia enquired, suddenly more self-conscious.

'Anything that may have a bearing. As a matter of interest, did you know Fronto's wife?'

'Never met her. Never wanted to. She was obviously trouble; you could tell Fronto thought so too. He kept her out of things. He never let on to her he had that nephew, did you know?'

'I gathered as much. So what happened? I was told a panther ran Fronto and the tightrope walker up against some lifting gear?'

Thalia exclaimed mournfully, Well that's a lie for a start!'

'What do you mean?'

'It happened at Nero's Circus.'

Suddenly I caught on; unlike an ampitheatre, a racing circus is simply a level course. 'No substructures? Nothing underground at all--and so no requirement to lift the cages?' Thalia nodded. I wished she wouldn't; it disturbed the snake. Every time she moved, that creature perked up and started inspecting if I was properly shaved, and whether I had nits behind the ears. 'So did some cack-handed aedile write a report about the accident without even going to look?'

'Must have.'

That was good news; it left open the possibility of discovering new evidence. 'Were you there?' Thalia nodded; her curious pet unroped itself; she twined it back again. 'So what's the true story?'

'It happened inside the starting gates. Fronto had provided beasts for the morning interlude before the charioteers--a mock hunt. You know! Archers on horseback scampering about after anything spotted or striped that happened to be in the menagerie at the time. If you have a very tired old lion, with no teeth, you sometimes let a few sons of aristocrats in for a go...'

'Was the panther tired and toothless?'

'Oh no!' Thalia rebuked me. 'That panther was the real thing. He's beautiful. You can see him if you want. Fronto's nephew kept him afterwards--act of respect; just in case any of his uncle was still inside. The funeral, you know Falco, was very difficult -'

'I don't think I need to look at him; I don't suppose the animal would talk to me but even if he did, no court would accept his evidence! So what happened?'

'Someone let him out.'

'You mean, deliberately?'

'Look, Falco; for Nero's Circus they bring the cages all across the city. They do it at night but it would cause a commotion if even a very small lion got loose!' I had seen the special cages used for transportation of wild animals -just big enough to contain them and fit on ampitheatre lifts. The top section had the hinge. 'Fronto was very particular about the animals; they cost him enough! He checked the locks himself before a journey, and he checked them again while the cages were standing on site. There was no way that panther could have escaped by accident.'

'But the cages must have been unlocked at some time?'

'Just before the scene. Fronto would always be there to supervise. In an arena, he always waited to unlock them until the cages were on the lifting hoists; then there would be just a slip catch for the slaves at the top to undo -'

'But the procedure was different at the Circus?'

'Yes. The cages for the mock hunt were being kept in the chariot stalls; the plan was to release the animals through the starting gates. They would be lively after being cramped up overnight, so they would run well out into the Circus -which was set up with wooden trees like a forest--lovely it looked! Then the huntsmen would ride in after them...'

'Never mind the topiary. What happened by the gates?'

'Someone unlocked the panther early. Fronto and my tightrope walker were in one of the chariot lanes. They rushed to escape through the starting gates--but the gates were still roped up. They were trapped. I ran in the back with some of the men; we saw the panther just finishing his first course and going for dessert. The tightrope walker got in the open cage and pulled the lid down like a lover in a laundry box; that was how he escaped.'

'Oh Jupiter!'

'You can't blame the panther,' Thalia said kind-heartedly. 'He was hungry; and we reckoned that somebody had been annoying him!'

'Well this is the critical question,' I answered with more sobriety than I was feeling. 'Who upset him--and is that who let him out?'

Thalia sighed. From a girl of her size sighs tended to be considerable gusts. The snake shot out a portion of its neck and peered at her reproachfully. She tucked its head down her bosom; the ultimate sanction (or, possible, treat). 'We had a stockman,' said Thalia. 'A stockman I never liked.'