The Eighth Veil (5 page)

He stood erect and scratched his beard. What to do next? Interview the household, of course. The King? Queen? Princess? This Menahem person, and what of the ubiquitous Archelaus? Would anyone admit his presence? Did anyone know of it? Did he, as the Prefect implied, even exist?

“Barak, I want you to do two more things for me. After you find someone to empty the pool, go up to and through the Sheep Gate. Ten paces on your right you will find the dwelling of the physician, Loukas. Tell him that I require his presence immediately. If he demurs, describe this ring to him and tell him who currently wears it.” He held the ring out for Barak to see. “Then I wish you to summon the king’s steward for me.”

Barak scurried off. Gamaliel replaced the sheet over the dead woman and began a careful reconnaissance of the room. If Barak told the truth, the room would be as it was when the body was found. Perhaps there would be something left here to indicate how this terrible thing came about.

He circled the area and the entrances several times picking up odds and ends and memorizing where he’d found them. A pile of clothing, probably the dead girl’s, lay in a heap under a bench. There were palm fronds, empty jars still sweet smelling from the ointments they once contained, but nothing he would describe as significant or lacking an explanation for its presence. He was still at it when Barak returned with Loukas the physician.

Chapter V

Barak scurried off to find the steward. Gamaliel escorted the physician to the body. He slipped back the sheet. The woman, he now saw clearly, was a young girl, almost a child.

“I have been tasked by our Prefect to discover the nature of this death, Physician. I do not know why, and I do not know how I am to do it, but there it is. I will need all the help I can get and I immediately thought of you. So here is the victim. I know nothing more than what you can see for yourself except I am told she met her death around the middle of the watch. Tell me about this murder. What can this unfortunate girl say to us from the grave?”

Loukas shook his head. “Such a pity, she can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen. I need to place her on a table where I can examine her more closely. Can I use that one?” He indicated a broad marble table that more than likely held food and drink in better times. Gamaliel nodded his assent but made no move to help lift the body onto the smooth surface. The physician made no comment. He knew enough about observant Jews to appreciate, if not completely comprehend, the complex laws regarding food, corpses, the living, and the dead.

The king’s steward arrived and Gamaliel turned his attention to him, leaving the Greek to do his postmortem study of the dead girl.

“Steward, greetings in the name of the Lord. Am I correct in remembering you are called Chuzas?” The round little man nodded his assent. “As you have surely heard by now, I am commissioned by the Prefect with the concurrence of your king, to investigate the death of the girl in this room last night. Why that is so will have to be a question for another day.”

“I heard, Rabban, but neither do I understand why, with respect to yourself, of course. She was no more than a servant girl, not even one of ours, strictly speaking, but brought here from some other land. And of another faith.” Chuzas shrugged his dismissal of the whole notion of wasting anyone’s time and particularly that of someone as important as the Rabban of the Sanhedrin on a matter into the death, however violent, of a foreign servant girl.

“That may be so, Steward, but hers was a life, nonetheless, a life taken before its appointed time and, more importantly, a life taken in the king’s palace. The latter elevates its significance and therefore, we must account for it. Can you tell me what you know of the events of last night? Who feasted, who bathed, who seemed to be behaving suspiciously, and so on? I have only Barak’s testimony but he had no part in the festivities, if that is what they were. He was only the poor soul who found the murdered girl.”

“In truth, Rabban, I cannot tell you much more or recall anything beyond the general state of things. The court assembled as usual and dined. Musicians played, dancers danced…”

“Perhaps the dead girl was among the dancers?” Visions of a lissome Princess Salome whom he’d recently discussed with the Prefect, resurfaced. He pushed the image aside.

“The girl? I do not think so. No, she served at the queen’s table, I believe.”

“You believe? Surely as the king’s steward, you would know the location and duty of every person in service to your master.”

“Yes, but you see…” Chuzas looked away and shuffled his expensively sandaled feet against the floor tiles.

“What are you not telling me, Steward?”

“In point of fact,” he said, looking extremely uncomfortable as he did so, “she is not of the king’s household.”

“Not?”

“This is awkward.” Chuzas’ gaze drifted away again to inspect the fresco on the near wall. “She is in the party of the queen.”

“Herodias, the Queen, is not considered part of the household? I think you must have misspoken.”

“It is complicated, Rabban.”

“Most of life is, Steward.”

“Yes, of course. This girl came to us when the queen…when the first…I do not wish to forward scandal or speak ill of the royal family—”

“Let me guess, then. What you are suggesting is this girl might have witnessed the adulterous liaisons of Herodias and Antipas before the separation, divorce, and remarriage and so had to be brought along from Philip’s court to keep the secret safe. Servants talk, do they not? Am I close?”

The steward seemed to be sweating and Gamaliel did not think it had as much to do with the steamy ambiance of the bath as with the subject matter under discussion. He cleared his throat with a great deal of huffing and heaving. “I honestly do not know, Rabban. It is a delicate um…yes, near enough, I don’t know.” he finally murmured.

“So then is it reasonable to suggest that this girl was in fact part of the entourage of the prince, Archelaus, who, it is rumored, traveled from the north somewhere to Herod Philip before he subsequently dropped out of sight in Cappadocia?”

“Who? Archelaus? I have no knowledge of Philip’s court or…Archelaus? Why would you think that, Rabban?” Actually, I am guessing, Gamaliel thought. A stab in the dark but it did not strike home. Well, so much for international intrigue. Why did Pilate even bring up the man’s name? “With respect for you and your office, no one can say what the circumstances were before our king took his new bride. I never served the king’s half brother so I cannot say whether this, who did you say…Archelaus?…Certainly not him, I should think. I have no knowledge of who may have come or gone to Caesarea Philippi.”

“Of course not. Very well. I only ask because the Prefect tells me he heard the man in question may be in Jerusalem now and the logical conclusion would be that he would be here with his uncle and if so, he suggested, it could help solve this mystery.”

“Could it indeed? I am afraid the Prefect is mistaken. He is not one of us, and certainly not native to the area, so he could not know. It is, after all, my responsibility to know who comes and goes and when they do so in the palace. There is no Archelaus here, prince or otherwise, not now, not ever.”

“Yes, I see. Well then, is it remotely possible this girl met her end because she knew of the king and queen’s illicit liaison and possession of this knowledge, if shared with the wrong people, could someday embarrass the king?”

“Surely you are not implying the king had anything to do with—”

“I am only speculating, Steward.”

“Of course. I suppose anything is possible, but who would credit the gossip of a servant girl?”

“Who indeed? But that works both ways, does it not?”

“Sir?”

“If she did in fact possess this sordid knowledge and were killed because of it, who, as you indicated in your own reaction to her death, would care? And then there would be an end of even the possibility of a threat to the throne.”

“I see. Put that way, it is possible. That assumes there was such knowledge to be had and I do not think there was.”

“Really? Very well, that brings us back to the royal couple and their marriage. Steward, I believe you are not a fool. Therefore, do not assume others are. It takes no perceptive skills to put the truth together in the matter of the king and queen and how they came to be married.”

“Truth is sometimes difficult to discern.”

“Nonsense. Balaam’s ass discerned the truth. Any person with his eyes open and his ears clear of wax can tell you the truth of the matter. No, Steward, truth is not difficult to discern. Falsehood, on the other hand, can be very confusing. So why are you attempting to confuse me?”

“Rabban,” Chuzas fluttered, “I am not…you do not think that I—”

“Enough. You have things to sort, it appears. Details you wish to present to me in a different light perhaps, after you have thought them through. I will end this interview and ask you to return here tomorrow. In the meantime, please send to me at intervals any and all of the serving staff, musicians, and so on, who might have been party to the events of last night beginning with the dining. I wish particularly to speak with anyone who may have ended their evening in this bath. When I am finished with them I will ask you to introduce me to the king, the queen, the Princess Salome, this Menahem person thought to be the king’s foster brother, and anyone else staying in the palace as the king’s guest.”

“Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”

“No…yes, I want the dead girl’s things gathered together and placed in safekeeping until I have a chance to go through them.”

“That may be difficult. They will have been rifled and expropriated by the other servants by now.”

“Then you will take one or more of the palace guards and retrieve all of them. I must have everything as it was if I am to unravel this snarl.”

Gamaliel sent Chuzas away and turned back to the physician.

“What have you for me so far, Loukas?”

“Ah, it is most interesting. Tell me, Honorable Sir, what is the left hand used for?”

“The left hand? It is the dirty hand, of course. It is used for all those functions not fitting to be discussed or of an impure nature.”

“Precisely. Whoever killed this young girl was
sinistromanual
, an unusual state in this day.”

“My murderer was left-handed? That is most unusual, I agree. How do you come to that finding?”

“Observe the cut. It has been made from the right to the left. A right-handed assassin would have slashed left to right.”

“That is most interesting. You can tell this from the cut?”

“I believe so, yes, from the depth and direction. Here is another question for you. If the killer felt what he was doing or touching qualified as impure or dirty—your words—would he not use his left hand to do it?”

“That is very possible, and suggests other possibilities for our murderer. He is a low person who does not quibble about which hand is used for what and is naturally left-handed.
He is scrupulous and deigns not to use his right hand in this dirty work. Or…”

“Or?”

“He wishes to leave us with a message.”

“A message?”

“Yes. It is most interesting, is it not? There is another possibility, of course, but I can hardly accept it.”

“That being?”

“Our killer is an Ehud.”

“A what?”

“Ehud, the son of Gara, and a left-handed man sent by the Lord to deliver the children of Israel from the Moabites. He killed Eglon, their king, by stabbing him with his left hand. One expects to see a weapon in a warrior’s right hand, not his left, you see? The king was taken unawares. So,
an Ehud.”

“You might wish to add one more. Your killer is an outsider, a barbarian who does not value or care about your laws or your traditions.”

“A barbarian? I think not, Physician. Not in the king’s court and unknown to us,” He paused and thought a moment. “There was mention of a man called Graecus. Perhaps…This speculation assumes our killer faced the girl, but could he not have stood behind her when he drew the knife?”

“No, I don’t think so. There are bruises on her right shoulder that suggest he held her facing him when he drew the knife. You see,” he pointed to a bluish mark on the girl’s upper arm, “this could very well be the mark made by his thumb. There are four similar, but smaller marks on the back of her arm that would be from his fingers. But more importantly, note the direction. If he faces her and slashes, the knife moves across and down. If he stands behind her, the knife moves across and up. Here is the next piece of your puzzle. Your victim was murdered in the pool.”

“We know that. The water is discolored with her blood, you see.”

“Yes, but that is not what I meant. She was held under the water, then had her throat slit. The cut is deep enough so that she would have died anyway, but she drowned because of it.”

“Had our villain removed her from the bath and not cut her, she might have lived?”

“Possibly.”

“She drowned because she was slashed, or instead?”

“Who can say whether the drowning was cause or effect? But it is another reason I think he did not stand behind her. He would need to hold her head underwater. One last thing for now, more detail can only come after I take her away and inspect her more closely in the privacy I require.” Gamaliel raised his eyebrows at that. He guessed, but did not wish to have confirmed what he would do to the girl’s body. He’d heard rumors about dissection and assumed this man knew them too.