Medicus
Authors: Ruth Downie
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Murder, #Murder - Investigation, #Historical Fiction, #Rome, #Mystery Fiction, #Historical, #Physicians, #Ancient, #Rome - History - Empire; 30 B.C.-476 A.D, #History
MEDICUS
MEDICUS
A Novel of the Roman Empire
RUTH DOWNIE
BLOOMSBURY
Copyright © 2006 by Ruth Downie
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Bloomsbury USA, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
Published by Bloomsbury USA, New York
Distributed to the trade by Macmillan
All papers used by Bloomsbury USA are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in well-managed forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.
THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE HARDCOVER EDITION AS FOLLOWS:
Downie, Ruth, 1955– Medicus : a novel of the Roman Empire / Ruth Downie.—1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
1. Rome—History—Empire, 30 B.C.—476 A.D.—Fiction. I. Title.
PR6104.O94M44 2006
823'.92—dc22
2006013179
Originally published in the United Kingdom in 2006 by Michael Joseph, a division of Penguin Group UK
First published in the United States by Bloomsbury USA in 2006 This paperback edition published in 2008
eISBN: 978-1-59691-427-8
3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Typeset by Westchester Book Group
Printed in the United States of America by Quebecor World Fairfield
To Andy, with love
A NOVEL
IN WHICH our hero will be . . .
baffled by
Tilla, a slave
Merula, a bar owner
Quintus Antonius Vindex, a recruit
a family of native Britons
alarmed by
Bassus, Merula's security guard
Stichus, another of Merula's security guards
a woman with chins
Secundus, a builder
Elegantina, a lady wrestler
assaulted by
a soup bowl
a senior centurion
a trowel
a fire
amused by
Rutilia the Elder
Rutilia the Younger, her sister
followed by
a dog
Albanus, a clerk
a barber's son
surrounded by
the Twentieth Legion, Valiant and Victorious
patients
women
mice
tempted by
Chloe, one of Merula's girls
sworn at by
Daphne, another of Merula's girls
avoided by
a barber's mother-in-law
harangued by
(in his memory) Claudia, his ex-wife
(in person) a signaler's girlfriend
(in letters) Lucius, his brother
annoyed by
Valens, a colleague
Claudius Innocens, a businessman
Priscus, an administrator
a civilian liaison officer
Justinus the whistler
a brothel-keeper on the Dock road
ignored by
his stepmother
his half sisters
informed by
a mortuary assistant's assistant
Decimus, a hospital porter
a barber
a barber's wife
Lucco, Merula's kitchen slave
Lucius Curtius Silvanus, a slave trader
mothered by
Cassia, his sister-in-law
Centurion Rutilius's wife
moved to sympathy by
Saufeia, one of Merula's girls
Asellina, one of Merula's girls
the signaler
Phryne, a slave
Tadius, a house slave
and ruled by
the Emperor Trajan
the Emperor Hadrian
O
diva
. . .
serves iturum Caesarem in ultimos
orbis Britannos.
Oh Goddess,
safeguard Caesar as he sets off for the remotest
regions of the Earth—Britain.
—Horace
S
OMEONE HAD WASHED the mud off the body, but as Gaius Petreius Ruso unwrapped the sheet, there was still a distinct smell of river water. The assistant wrinkled his nose as he approached with the record tablet and the measuring stick he had been sent to fetch.
"So," said Ruso, flipping the tablet open. "What's the usual procedure here for unidentified bodies?"
The man hesitated. "I don't know, sir. The mortuary assistant's on leave."
"So who are you?"
"The assistant's assistant, sir." The man was staring at the corpse.
"But you have attended a postmortem before?"
Without taking his eyes off the body, the man shook his head. "Are they all like that, sir?"
Ruso, who had started work before it was light, stifled a yawn. "Not where I come from."
The description should come first. Facts before speculation. Except that in this case much of the description was speculation as well.
Female, aged. . .
He spent some time frowning over that one. Finally he settled on
approximately
18—25
years. Average weight. Height . . .five feet one inch.
At least that was fairly accurate.
Hair: red, scant.
That too, although it might not be very helpful if no one had ever seen her before without a wig.
Clothing: none found.
So no help there, then.
Three teeth missing, but not in places that were obvious. Someone would need to know her very well indeed to give a positive identification from that.
Ruso glanced up. "Did you go over to HQ for me?"
"I told them we'd got a body and you'd send the details over later, sir."
"Did you ask about missing persons?"
"Yes, sir. There aren't any."
"Hm." This did not bode well. Ruso continued working his way down the body, making notes as he went. Moments later his search was rewarded. "Ah. Good!"
"Sir?"
Ruso pointed to what he had found. "If somebody turns up looking for her in a month's time," he explained, "we'll be able to tell them who we buried." He recorded
Strawberry birthmark approximately half an inch long on inside of upper right thigh, eight inches above the knee,
and sketched the shape.
When he had completed the description, Ruso scratched one ear and gazed down at the pale figure laid out on the table. He was better acquainted than he wished to be with the dead, but this one was difficult.The water had interfered with all the signals he had learned to look for. There was no settling of the blood to indicate the position in which the body had been left, presumably because it had rolled over on the current. The limbs were flexible, so that meant . . . what? Men who died in the stress of battle often froze and then relaxed again much faster than was normal. So if the woman had been frightened or struggling . . . On the other hand, how would the aftermath of death be affected by cold water? He scratched his ear again and yawned, trying to think what he could usefully write on the report that would not cause more distress and confusion to the relatives.
Finally he settled on
Time of death: uncertain, estimated at least 2 days before discovery
and gave his reasons.
He glanced up at the assistant's assistant again. "Can you write legibly?"
"Yes, sir."
He handed the tablet and stylus across the body
"Place of death,"
he dictated, then corrected himself. "No, put
Location of body."
The man laid the tablet on the end of the table, hunched over it, and repeated,
"Location . . . of . . . body"
as he scraped with awkward but determined obedience.
"Found five hundred paces downstream from the pier, in marshes on the north bank,"
said Ruso, wishing he had carried on writing himself.
"F . . . found . . . five hundred . . ."
muttered the man, suddenly breaking off in midsentence to look up and say, "She could have drowned a long way upstream and come down the river, sir. But then, she might have gone in farther along and come up on the tide."
"Pardon?" Ruso blinked, taken aback by this sudden display of initiative.
Moments later it was apparent that although this soldier knew nothing about hospital administration and very little about writing, he had devoted his spare time to learning everything there was to know about the local fishing. The assistant's assistant's detailed description of all possible points of waterborne departure that could end in an arrival in the marshes on the north bank of the River Dee left Ruso baffled, but one thing was clear. In a land where coastlines shifted in and out and rivers flowed backward twice a day, anything that floated could end up a very long way from where it fell into the water.
"Point of entry into water unknown,"
he dictated.
The man paused. "I didn't get the bit before that, sir." Ruso repeated the location of the body. The man wiped a scrape of wax off the end of the stylus with his forefinger, flicked it away, and began to write.
There was a bird chirping in the hospital garden and a murmur of voices. Ruso glanced out the window. On the far side of the herb beds an amputee practiced with his crutches while orderlies hovered at each elbow, ready to catch him. A soft breeze wafted in, fluttering the lamps that had been placed on slender black stands around the table, burning for the soul of the unknown figure laid out beneath them.
The lamps lurched wildly as the door was flung open. The assistant's assistant looked up and said, "It's not her, Decimus," but the intruder still hurried to the table to look for himself.
Ruso frowned. "Who are you?"
The man clasped both hands together and continued staring at the body.
"Have you lost someone?"
The man swallowed. "No. Not like this, no, sir."
"Then you'd better leave, hadn't you?"
The man backed toward the door. "Right away, sir. Sorry to interrupt, sir. My mistake."
Ruso followed him across the room and barred the door before turning to the assistant. "Is there a missing person that HQ doesn't know about?"
The man shook his head. "Take no notice of Decimus, sir. He's just one of the porters. He's looking for his girlfriend."
"In the mortuary?"
"She ran off with a sailor, sir. Months ago."
"Why look in here, then?"
The man shrugged. "I don't know, sir. Perhaps he's hoping she's come back."
Ruso, not sure if this was an attempt at humor, tried to look the man in the eye, but the attention of the assistant's assistant remained firmly on the writing tablet.
Ruso looked down at the body. "Write,
Cause of death."
The stylus began to scratch again. "Cause of . . ."
"We'll start from the head down."
"We will start
"No, don't write that."
"Sir?"
"Just write
Cause of death.
Nothing else yet."
He frowned at the girl's head. The fishermen who brought the body in had sworn that they had done nothing to it, but Ruso was at a loss to explain the girl's hair. At first he had thought she was simply unfortunate. Now, on closer examination, he realized the patchy baldness was not natural. He ran one finger across the bristly scalp.
"Is this some sort of a punishment, do you think?"
"Perhaps she cut it off to sell it, sir," suggested the orderly.
"This isn't cut, this is practically shaved."
"Lice, sir?" suggested the orderly, suddenly sounding hopeful. "Maybe she went down to the river to wash out the lice and drowned."
Ruso took a deep breath of fresh air before bending down and holding the lamp closer to the body.
"She didn't drown," he said, lifting the girl's chin with the tip of one finger. "Look."