Catilina's riddle

This suggestion met with no enthusiasm at all We had defeated the Claudii in the courts once, Eco conceded, but that was with a will on our side and Cicero's help. We couldn't be certain of wi

There was, of course, the matter of the other Claudii, I pointed out, who surrounded us like an enemy army. None of them struck me as likely to sit idly by if we harmed Claudia, no matter what our justification. They hated us enough already; what would they do if Claudian blood was spilled? Were we to spend the coming years killing and kidnapping one another? What sort of life was that?

It was a good thing to let everyone shout and throw up their arms and goad each other to devise more and more and more terrible torments for the guilty. After the fright we had suffered, we all needed such a shared release. It also bought me time, for after Diana was found they had all been eager to take drastic action at once. But I wanted that night and at least another day and night to pass before we proceeded on any course. While our anger cooled and left us with clearer heads, Claudia could spend a couple of sleepless nights wondering what we were up to.

On the second morning after Diana had been rescued, having heard all their arguments and cries for action, I exerted my prerogative as father of the household and a

Claudia:

There are matters we must discuss in private, and on neutral ground. Meet me at midday at our usual place on the ridge. I will come alone and unarmed, and I vow by the memory of my father to cause you no harm. Your presence there will indicate that you come under the same conditions. There is nothing to be gained by further acrimony, and I believe that we can come to terms of mutual acceptance. That is the earnest hope of your neighbour,

Gordianus

The day was cloudless, and there was no wind on the ridgetop, as I had feared there might be. All in all, it was a mild day for the end of Januarius, a month that had already seen enough turmoil for the whole year to come.

I sat on a stump and looked out over the farm, such a placid scene that it was hard to believe so much deceit and wickedness could lurk among the i

She looked as she usually looked: sausage-fingered, plum-cheeked, and cherry-nosed, with a careless clump of frazzled orange hair atop her head. She was wearing a long woollen tunic with a heavy cloak wrapped around her. She approached without a word, took a seat on the neighbouring stump, and joined me in studying the view. I looked at her face, but she did not look back at me. I noticed a few horizontal cuts on her throat, where I had pressed too hard with my blade. She reached up from time to time to touch the marks.

After a moment she said, 'Where shall we begin?'

'At the begi

This caused her to turn her head and look into my eyes, but only for a moment. 'How could you even think—'

I held up my hand. 'No pretty protests, Claudia. The question requires only a simple answer yes or no.'

'Did I murder Lucius? What a question! No, of course not. He died in the Forum, with hundreds of people around, clutching at a pain in his chest. Men die that way every day. It's perfectly natural.'

'You did nothing to help nature along? A bit of poison…'

'Gordianus, no!'

I studied her profile while she stared fixedly down on the farm. 'I believe you. I had no particular reason to think that you might have murdered poor Lucius, but I wanted to know for sure. He was my friend, you know. It would matter to me if someone had caused his death.'

We both gazed at the view for a while in silence. It was clear that I would be asking the questions and that she would be answering. I was in no hurry.

'When I lent you Congrio to help cook for your family gathering’ I finally said, 'that was when you suborned him, wasn't it?'

She shrugged. 'It wasn't hard to do. Congrio doesn't like you, and he despises your wife. Some slaves can't stand working for an ex-slave; Congrio hated it, simply on principle. Pride comes with talent, which he has in abundance, as I'm sure you'll agree. He had worked all his life in the respectable household of a patrician master, then suddenly found himself the property of — well, Gordianus, your ancestry is hardly worth mentioning, is it?'

'I'd prefer that you didn't mention my ancestors, true enough. So you told Congrio that if he would go along with your schemes, you could set everything right and become his new mistress. He agreed to become your agent in my household.'

'Something like that.'

'Would you believe that for a long time it was Aratus I suspected of betraying me?'

'Aratus?' said Claudia. 'You should have known better. Lucius always said he was the most unwavering and loyal slave he had ever owned. A man couldn't hope for a better foreman to run a farm.'

'So I've gradually come to realize. But back to Congrio: when the first headless body appeared in my stable, it was Congrio who placed it there, wasn't it?'

'Why ask me? You must have had the story from him already.'

'Some of the story. Other bits I've worked out for myself, but there are some things only you could know for certain, Claudia. Well, then, it started on the day that we burned the first batch of blighted hay. There were a lot of fires on my land and a lot of smoke going into the air. One of your slaves showed up, ostensibly to deliver a gift of figs from your farm, in exchange for which I sent you some fresh eggs. I thought the man was there to see what the smoke was about; in reality, he was there to confer with Congrio and make plans for the delivery of the body. I remember he stayed a long time in the kitchen; I thought he was merely tasting Congrio's custard.

"The next day a wagon arrived, full of provisions. Congrio said it came all the way from Rome and that he'd had to go over Aratus's head to order the things he needed. That made me angry at Aratus, and took my mind away from Congrio. Still, I wondered why he insisted on unloading the wagon himself. Now I know: there was a dead body amid the pots and pans. The wagon came from your farm, not from Rome. Congrio unloaded the body, as your agent had instructed the day before. He managed to conceal it in the kitchen and then put it in the stable later. No wonder he was sweating and trembling; I merely thought he was out of breath and angry at Aratus.' I spread my hands on my lap. 'So I know how the body arrived and who assisted. But who was Nemo?'

'Nemo?'

"That was what I called the headless corpse, having no name for him. From his body, it was hard to tell whether he was freeborn or a slave. If a slave, he wasn't engaged in hard labour and didn't work outdoors. Nemo was your cook, wasn't he?'