Marcus Aurelius Betrayed (6 page)

“Where did your master get this?” asked Severus casually, as if trying to put the two slaves at their ease.

“From the antique dealer Isarion,” answered the old woman. “It was a gift. The master prizes it highly.”

“I can see why,” commented Severus, still studying the statue, while mentally noting the name of the antique dealer Isarion, another of the guests at the Prefect’s orgy.

The young slave girl brought fruit and wine to a table and the old woman motioned for the two men to sit and refresh themselves.

“Does your master have any other antiques,” asked Severus.

“Oh yes,” said the young girl. “He has a whole chest full of antiquities. But it’s locked.”

The judge left the statue regretfully and took a seat at the table where Flaccus and the two women were waiting for him.

“Where is your master?” asked Severus gently.

“We don’t know,” answered the old woman. She took a handkerchief from the palm of her hand and wiped her eyes. “He left seven days ago and hasn’t returned.”

“Where did he say he was going?”

“He left after dinner. He didn’t say where he was going. He only said that he had to meet someone and would be back late.”

“Does he have family or friends he could be staying with?”

“We checked. No one knows where he is,” answered the old woman. “He hasn’t been to work and the police – the
phylakes
-- can’t find him. We’re very worried.”

“Has anything like this happened before?”

They both held up their hands and jerked back their heads in negative gestures.

“Was he worried about anything?” asked the judge. “Was anything disturbing him? How did he seem before he left?”

“Worried? Yes, you’re right about that,” said the old woman.

“Oh yes,” said the young girl. “He was worried. He was worried for the past few weeks before he disappeared. He was moody around the house, not his usual self. Late at night, after I was asleep, I would sometimes wake up and find him pacing the room, back and forth. I often asked him what was wrong. But he never would tell me.”

Severus thought for a moment. “Did he ever hint at what was worrying him? Money? His job? Something to do with the Prefect’s party? Did he mention that to you?”

“Yes,” said the old woman. “I told him he shouldn’t be toadying up to all those high-class people in government.
They were out of his class. He came home from that party looking horrible. Like he had seen a ghost. He said someone tried to poison the Prefect.”

“And that wasn’t the only thing that worried him,” interjected the young girl.

“It wasn’t?”

“No. Even before the death at the party, he was really disturbed. But it was about the stolen books.”

“What stolen books?” asked Severus.

“The books he was supposed to find. The ones stolen from the Library.”

“Tell me about them.”

“He never told me anything about it,” continued the young girl. “I overheard something. I know I shouldn’t be telling this, but I have to.”

“You’re quite right to do so,” encouraged Severus.

“One night, when the man who lives next door was here for a game of ‘Sacred Way’ -- the master and him used to play once a week -- I was asked to come in and play the lyre during the game.”

“You should hear her play,” interjected the old woman. “She could be in an orchestra or perform on the stage anytime.”

The young girl blushed and the judge prompted her to continue.

“Well, I heard them discussing the books. My master said that rare books had been stolen from the Library and that he was told by the Keeper of the Books to find out what happened. I think that’s what was worrying him but it became worse after the Prefect’s party.”

Severus and Flaccus left, wondering what was going on.

VII

THE KEEPER OF THE BOOKS

T
here was no carefree tourism on Judge Severus’ schedule the next day. The appointment at the House of Selene to interview the
hetairai
who had been at the orgy was set up for the afternoon – the women generally slept late. So in the morning, Severus and Flaccus sent a messenger to arrange an interview for him with the Keeper of the Books at the Library to discuss Philogenes. When a return message was received from the Library that the Chief Librarian would see the imperial emissary immediately, Severus and Flaccus took a litter in front of the Hadrianum and proceeded to the meeting.

Arriving at the Library, Severus and Flaccus were immediately taken to see The Keeper of the Books. He did not look like a bookish person. His overly enthusiastic welcome and ever-present smile reminded Severus of a politician or courtier, rather than of a distinguished scholar. Perhaps the job required skills in both areas.

The Keeper confirmed that there had been a disappearance of rare books from the library and that Philogenes
had been assigned by him to find them. He explained that they hadn’t called in the authorities because it was possible, though unlikely, that the books were misplaced, rather than stolen. But now that Philogenes had also disappeared, the Keeper was on the verge of notifying the
phylakes
.

“Your arrival,” he told Severus, “is therefore most timely.”

The Keeper explained that over the past few months the staff had discovered rare books gone. The discoveries had all been completely by chance. All the books were seldomly used and were, in fact, rare editions. It was only when someone happened to ask for them that their disappearance was noted, and the increasing number of missing rare editions made it look like a pattern of thievery. Moreover, the library staff responsible for the care of the missing volumes could hardly make consistent mis-filings of such valuable books.

The Keeper then provided Judge Severus with a list of the missing rare books. There was a book of poetry by the first librarian, Callimachus, said to have been his personal copy. There was also book one of an early edition of Homer’s
Iliad
, and an old philosophical work by someone Severus had never heard of, Lycon of Tarentum.

“Only bibliophiles and Pythagorean scholars have heard of him,” explained the librarian, “but the missing roll might be the only one in existence. That makes it very valuable.”

Finally, and curiously, there was an old Jewish philosophical work, written in Hebrew, called
The Wisdom of Ben Sira
.

“I dread the fact that there may be others missing,” said the librarian, “but I fear the worst.”

“Did Philogenes ask you for the job of finding the missing books?” asked Severus.

The librarian caught the inference. “As a matter of fact he did. Why? Do you think he had anything to do with it?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible, of course, and his disappearance on top of it is suspicious. Let me think a moment.”

The judge twirled his beard and lapsed into thought, while the librarian turned to some paperwork on his desk.

“I have a suggestion,” said Severus finally.

The librarian looked up.

“I have a freedman with me in Alexandria. He was once a librarian himself. Beyond that, his association with me has given him an acquaintance with criminal investigations. He would be perfect to take on the job of tracking down the missing books.”

“I don’t know,” said the Keeper uncertainly. “He’s not part of the staff...”

“That’s an advantage in this case,” countered Severus. “He’s entirely independent, as Philogenes apparently was not. Furthermore, as a personal emissary of the Emperor, I strongly suggest that you hire him for this job as a special assistant.”

The Keeper of the Books noted the commanding tone and assented gracefully. “It doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all, Judge Severus. Send your man to me. He can start tomorrow.”

“I will,” replied Severus. “His name is Alexander.”

VIII

THE HOUSE OF SELENE

T
he House of Selene was no ordinary brothel, state run and taxed, with a fixed entrance fee, and open to the public at large. Rather it was an exclusive establishment of
hetairai
-- courtesans -- in the tradition of Old Greece, where beautiful young girls were trained in music and dance and culture as much as in the development of their physical talents. They were educated particularly to witty conversation and literary learning and were accomplished musicians on lyre or flute or cithara. They were fashioned to be apt companions for men of the first rank in the arts, government or commerce, and could grace a cultured dinner party equally as well as a bed.

Most
hetairai
looked down on ordinary women. Common prostitutes were beneath their contempt. Their models were famous courtesans of the past, such as Aspasia and Phryne. Aspasia, the mistress of Pericles, was said by Socrates to be the only person in Athens, man or woman, who could best him in argument. Phryne,
the model for the great sculptor Praxiteles, had achieved a reputation for eroticism by bathing naked in the sea, like the goddess Aphrodite, in the presence of numerous admirers. Though all could not measure up to these standards, the girls at the House of Selene were reputed to be among the best in Alexandria. And Alexandria was reputed to have the best
hetairai
in the Empire.

When Judge Severus entered the main room of the house, he heard the sounds of courtesans practicing flutes and stringed instruments and saw that everything had been arranged according to the diagram in the case file. There were seven couches set up around three sides of a large low table. On each of the couches sat a woman and a slave.

Each slave had a placard around his neck bearing the name of the orgiast he was supposed to represent. A young man with a silly grin sat on the couch in the middle of the long end of the table, opposite the open end, next to a stunning red haired woman with dark brown eyes in a red dress. He bore the placard that said “Prefect.” On the “Prefect’s” right, in the guest of honor’s post, was the slave representing the victim, Titus Pudens, while the stand-in for Isis priest Petamon was to the Prefect’s left. The short ends of the table had each two couches, with slaves representing Secundus and Philogenes on Pudens’ right, and others with placards for the antique dealer Isarion and the Prefect’s aide Serpentinus on Petamon’s left.

Selene, the proprietress of the establishment, formally greeted Judge Severus and offered “every courtesy and cooperation with the authorities.” She was an older woman, very beautiful, with her days as an active courtesan behind her. Her arms jangled with bracelets and her fingers were covered with rings. Her face had a determined, rigid expression as she showed the judge and his entourage -- Vulso and Flaccus -- to the chairs set up for them in front of the open end of the table.

Severus noticed that the walls of the room were decorated with painted frescoes, tastefully done, of nymphs and satyrs in suggestive poses. Any overtly obscene wall paintings, Severus knew, would be in the private rooms upstairs.

Three groups of slaves stood against the back and side walls, ready to serve food or drink. One of them bore the placard “Ganymede.” He was placed in the group along the side near the door, behind Philogenes and Secundus.

“As you know,” began the judge in Greek when he was seated and had taken in the scene, “I’m here to investigate the death of Titus Pudens. And I want to do it by recalling everything that happened the evening of the orgy, as far as your collective memories will take us.”

The women nodded their understanding.

“Now,” said Severus, “to begin with a few preliminaries. When was the party arranged, who arranged it, and who selected which
hetairai
were to attend and who they were to be paired with?”

“I can answer that,” said Selene. The judge inclined his head to her. “The party was arranged by Secundus, the Prefect’s stepson.”

“When?”

“That morning. It was a little late, of course. Usually I require much more notice. But it was the Prefect of Egypt so naturally we did our best. The girls will remember that we were busy all day, rearranging our schedules, deciding what to wear and just getting ready.”

“Had you serviced parties for the Prefect before?”

“Oh yes,” answered Selene. “When was the last one, Aurora? About a month ago?”

The red haired woman in the red dress at the Prefect’s couch agreed. “Yes, about then. There was some festival or other. The Prefect gave a large party.”

“Were you at the Prefect’s couch that time?” asked the judge.

“No. Not the last time. But at some previous parties, yes. He requested me again for himself at this one.”

“That’s right,” chimed in Selene. “Secundus specifically mentioned that his stepfather wanted Aurora this time. The Prefect had Chloe the last time, right?”

“Yes,” interjected a beautiful, slim, brown haired woman with green eyes. “But he had evidently finished with me.” Her face took on a cynical look.

Selene quickly continued. “Secundus also chose his girl personally, when he came to make the arrangements.” She nodded at the woman sitting with the slave with the placard ‘Secundus.’ Severus noticed that Secundus had chosen Eudoxia, a small young girl, almost boyish looking, but extremely attractive.