The Venus Throw (48 page)

“Now you bring up a very interesting point,” Caelius said, raising one eyebrow, “and as a matter of fact—”

“Caelius, you fool, shut up!”

“Relax, Asicius. The trial is over, and Gordianus can be trusted with the truth. Can’t you, Gordianus? Swear to me by the shade of your father that you’ll keep secret what I’m about to tell you.”

I hesitated only a moment. “I swear.”

“Caelius, you’re an idiot!” Asicius stamped his font and angrily left the room. Licinius stayed behind, looking around warily for eavesdroppers. Catullus stared blankly into his cup.

“Asicius! What an ass. He always was death to a good conversation.” Caelius smiled. “Where were we?”

“The night Dio died—”

“Ah, yes. Well, it was the oddest thing. You see, I was
supposed
to kill Dio. It’s exactly as you had it figured, I’m sure. King Ptolemy wanted to get rid of Dio, and so did Pompey. I owed Pompey a pile of gold which I couldn’t possibly repay. So it was up to me to do old Dio in.”

“Just as you arranged the attack on the Alexandrian envoys when they arrived in Neapolis.”

Caelius nodded. “And kept up the attacks in Puteoli and on the way up to Rome. The Egyptians were almost too easy to frighten. They’re about as courageous as pigeons. But pigeons scatter when they’re attacked, and there were so damned many of them!”

“And the last one left was Dio.”

“Exactly. And that pigeon made a nasty mess.”

Licinius rolled his eyes. “Caelius, you’re crazy to be telling him this.”

“Shut up, Licinius. Has my judgment ever steered me wrong? Gordianus is like a dog with a bone. He’ll never let go of this thing until he’s got the truth. Now that it can’t
hurt us, better to simply tell him so that he can go find another bone to chew. He’s sworn himself to secrecy! Now where was I?”

“All the Egyptians gone but Dio.”

“Ah, yes. Well, I tried to get the kitchen slaves to poison him at Lucius Lucceius’s house, of course. Having met that idiot Lucceius once at a party, I figured I could get away with just about anything under his roof. But the slaves bungled it and killed Dio’s taster instead, and off Dio went to Coponius’s house. A good thing Lucceius is the type to see no evil, or he could have forced his slaves to testify against me and ruined everything.

“So it was on to Titus Coponius’s house. Titus is no fool, and his slaves are as loyal as slaves come. Added to that, Dio was more wary than ever, and Pompey was really beginning to press me. Well, there was nothing to do but sharpen the daggers and go on a midnight raid. I needed help for that, so I called on Asicius. He’s the one who actually staged the raids on the envoys down south for me. He’s been one of King Ptolemy’s agents for years. Knows a lot more about daggers and blond and that sort of thing than I do.”

“Thank the gods he’s not hem to hear you!” groaned Licinius, covering his face. Catullus was busy poking at something in the bottom of his wine cup.

I nodded. “Then you and Asicius—”

“Oh yes, we went out that night with every intention of killing old Dio. Sorry. I know he was your old teacher and all that. But Egyptian politics is a nasty business.”

“You had no confederates inside Coponius’s house?”

“Not a single one. Too dangerous. His slaves are too loyal, as I said.”

“But you knew the room where Dio was staying.”

Caelius shrugged. “Not too hard to figure out. I’d stayed in the house as a guest myself.”

“So the two of you climbed over the wall, broke in the window, burst into Dio’s room—”

“And found him lying on his couch as dead as King Numa. I’ll never forget the sight of him—mouth gaping open, eyes staring. Oh yes, most definitely dead.”

“Then what?”

“What else could we do? Pompey had sent us to kill Dio, and he knew we intended to use daggers. I didn’t want Pompey to think that Dio had died of natural causes, or that someone else had murdered him. I wanted my debt discharged! So we went ahead and stabbed him, enough times to kill him if he’d still been living—”

“More than enough, from what I heard.”

Caelius shrugged. “Then we made a bit of a mess in the room, as if there might have been a struggle, and then we got out of there as quickly as we could. The next day everyone was saying that Dio had been stabbed to death in his bed. Pompey was satisfied, my debts
were
discharged, and I figured that was the end of it. But Asicius was never secretive about his links to King Ptolemy. His enemies decided to put him on trial for murdering Dio. Ptolemy hired Cicero to handle the defense, and Cicero got Asicius off. The prosecution never really had enough evidence against him.”

“Nor against you, it seems.”

“Especially not with Cicero on my side.” Caelius grinned.

“Yes, that explains it,” I said. “Stabbed after he was already dead. No one in Coponius’s house noticed the discrepancies—hardly enough blood spattered about for so many wounds, and the wounds all neatly close together, not spread around. No struggle. And the slave girl, too afraid to teil what she knew . . .”

“What’s that?” said Caelius. “You’re muttering to yourself, Gordianus.”

“Was I? A bad habit. Yes, you’ve put my ‘Mud to rest about Dio. The old dog can stop gnawing that bone. But I have another bone with some marrow still left in it.”

“Do you? Server, more wine!”

“The violence against Dio and the Alexandrian envoys weren’t the only charges against you.”

“No—and a good thing, too!”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, Clodia adding that poisoning charge at the last minute. Crassus said we should disallow it. He said it was technically too late for the prosecutors to include it and that we didn’t have time to prepare a defense. Cicero told him he was mad, that it was a gift from the gods. ‘Don’t you see? They’ve given us exactly what we need! Now we have every reason to drag Clodia into the case, and that will be the end of the prosecution.’ And he was right, of course. If Clodia had kept out of sight, I’d have been in much worse trouble. But with Clodia right there, showing her face, bringing her own accusation against me, Cicero was able to turn the trial on its head. Not ‘Did Caelius murder the Egyptians?’ but ‘Why is that wicked woman trumping up charges against the poor boy?’ And it worked; brilliantly! The prosecution was totally discredited. Accusing me of trying to poison Clodia actually
weakened all
the other charges.”

“Yes, Caelius,” I said quietly, “but what about the accusation itself?”

Catullus suddenly looked up from his wine cup and showed signs of life. Caelius gave me a supercilious grin. “Gordianus, a Roman court has declared me to be an innocent man, wrongfully accused. What more do you need to know?”

“The truth,” I said. I reached for his arm. The force I used caught him by surprise.

He dropped his cup. Wine splashed on the floor. Caelius’s bodyguards lurched forward. He kept them back with a shake of his head and spoke to me through gritted teeth.

“Gordianus, you’re hurting my wrist. Let go, or I shall teil them to cut your hand off.”

“The truth, Caelius. It goes no further than me. I swear by the shade of my father.”

“The truth? Licinius here very nearly got caught with a pyxis full of poison at the Senian baths. He managed to empty the stuff into one of the tubs on his way out—a waste of good poison! But I put the pyxis to good use later.”

“Caelius, shut up!” Licinius clenched his fists.

“And the second attempt?” I said. Catullus stared at Caelius.

“The truth?”

“Tell me!”

He jerked his arm free and rubbed his wrist. “The second attempt almost succeeded. I’m glad now that it didn’t. Cicero was right. Dead, Clodia would have been truly dangerous to me, an object of sympathy. Alive, she was an object of scorn, an asset to me in spite of herself. So it worked out for the best. Clodia got off with a bit of indigestion, and I got the sympathy of the judges.”

“The poison you used for the second attempt—”

“Different from the first time. I’ d wanted to use something very quick to act; I didn’t want her to suffer. But Licinius threw that’ batch away, so I ended up trying something called—what is it called, Licinius?”

“Gorgon’s hair.”

“Yes, that’s it. It would have taken a bit longer, I’m told, but been just as effective. I am sorry that Chrysis got caught, poor thing. She’s so delicate, and now Clodia will take it all out on her.”

Catullus spoke in a slurred voice. “Caelius, you told me—”

“What you wanted to hear, Catullus, and you never want to hear the truth, do you? So what if I tried to poison her? What do you care? She despises you even more than she does me.”

“Caelius, you lying bastard!” Catullus lurched toward him.

Caelius drew back and lifted his hands, a signal for his bodyguards to rescue him. It happened so quickly that I
experienced the journey from the bench to the street outside as a blurred moment of levitation, followed by a hard landing on my posterior. When my head stopped spinning I saw that Catullus was sitting on the paving stones beside me. After a moment, he rolled forward onto his hands and knees, crawled to the gutter and was violently ill.

A little later he crawled back to me. “You should try that,” he said, wiping his chip. “You’ d feel better.”

“I don’t want to feel better.”

“Self-pitying bastard. You sound like me. What have you got to be sad about?”

“Woman trouble.”

“At your age?”

“Live long enough, whelp, and you’ll see. It never ends.”

“Then how do men stand it?” The brief relief of vomiting gave way to his usual misery. “So Caelius really did try to poison her?”

“Not once, but twice. He told you otherwise?”

“He lied to my face.”

“Imagine that! What were you doing in his company tonight, anyway?”

Catullus looked even more miserable.

“Don’ t tell me,” I said. “Let me guess. You were sharing in the celebration, since you helped him write his speech. You helped Cicero write his speech as well.”

“How did you know?”

“The look on your face at the trial today. You couldn’t help but enjoy hearing your phrases spoken aloud. That business about ‘Clytemnestra-for-a-quadrans’ and ‘Medea of the Palatine’—it had to come from you. Likewise the reference to those lovers’ trophies Clodia keeps in her secret treasure box under her statue of Venus. You told me no one knew about that but you, and you only found out by accident. I saw her face when Cicero mentioned it. So did you. That was the last straw for her, the moment she broke. He stripped her naked, and you helped. You knew the jokes that would
hurt her the most. The cruelest puns, the nastiest metaphors. Are you the poet of love, Catullus, or the poet of hate?”

“ ‘I hate and I love. If you ask me how, I do not know—’ ”

“Stop quoting yourself! Why did you do it?”

“Don’t you know?”

“I thought you loved Clodia. I thought you hated Caelius.”

“Which is precisely why I had to help him destroy her.”

“You baffle me, Catullus!”

“She had to be destroyed. It was the only way. Now I can reclaim her.”

“What are you talking about, Catullus?”

He clutched my arm. “Don’t you see? As long as she had this burning passion for Caelius, I could never get her back. She’d put up with anything from him, any abuse. But now he’s gone too far. Now she can’t possibly love him anymore, not after what they did to her at the trial today. Caelius and his advocates have made her the laughingstock of Rome! Yes, I helped. I went to Caelius the morning after we ran into him here at the tavern. I told him I had some ideas for his speech. Cicero was quite excited to have me along. The three of us had quite a time, going through the orations, adding jokes, wondering just how far we should go. That pun about the pyxis—”

“Don’t make me hear it all again!”

“It’s not that I’m proud. But it had to be done. She had to be brought down. She’d become too full of herself, too proud, too arrogant, ever since Celer died and she started running her own household. Now she’s been broken, in the only way it could be done. We took everything that made her sarong—her beauty, her pride, her love of pleasure—and turned it against her. Her own ancestors were turned against her, the ones she’s always gloating about! She’ll never be able to brag about the family monuments again
without everyone snickering behind her back. She can’t even turn to Clodius, not in public. It’s me she’ll turn to.”

I shook my head. “Catullus, you are surely the most deluded man I ever met.”

“You think so? Come with me right now, to her house. You’ll see.”

“No, thank you. Clodia’s house is the
last
place on earth I’d care to be at this moment. No, that’s not quite true. The last place I’d want to be is in my own house. But then, it’s also the only place I want to be.”

“Now who’s not making sense?” Catullus staggered to his feet. “Are you coming with me or not?”

I shook my head, which seemed to go on spinning after I stool up.

“Farewell then, Gordianus.”

“Farewell, Catullus. And—” He turned and looked back at me blearily. “—good luck.”

He nodded and stumbled off into the darkness. I waited for my head to stop spinning and tried to figure out the direction to Eco’s house. The Subura seemed a long way off.