Read Online Gordianus The Finder Omnibus (Books 1-4) by Steven Saylor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steven Saylor
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replaced the morsel on the tray.
Suddenly the curtain gave an audible snap. A breath of warmth eddied across the tiles and over my feet. The room had finally released its pent-up sigh.
‘You ask if I believe that Sextus Roscius is innocent of his father’s murder.’ Cicero spread his fingers and pressed the tips together. ‘The answer is yes. When you meet him, you too will believe in his innocence.’
It seemed at last that we might be getting down to business. I had had enough of the games passing back and forth in Cicero’s study, enough of the yellow curtain and the stifling heat.
‘How exactly did he die, the old man? Bludgeons, knives, stones? How many assailants? Were they seen? Can they be identified? Where was the son at the very moment the crime took place, and how did he learn the news? Who else had reason to kill the old man? What were the terms of his will? Who brings the charges against the son, and why?’ I paused, but only to take a sip of wine. ‘And tell me this—’
‘Gordianus,’ Cicero laughed, ‘if I knew all this, I would hardly be needing your services, would I?’
‘But you must know a little.’
‘More than a little, but still not enough. Very well, I can at least answer your last question. The charges have been lodged by a prosecutor named Gaius Erucius. I see you’ve heard of him – or has the wine turned to vinegar in your mouth?’
‘I’ve more than heard of him,’ I said. ‘From time to time I’ve actually worked for him, but only from hunger. Erucius was born a slave in Sicily; now he’s a freedman with the shadiest law practice in Rome. He takes cases for money, not merit. He’d defend a man who raped his mother if there was gold in it, and then turn around and prosecute the old woman for slander if he saw a profit. Any idea who’s hired him to take on the case?’
‘No, but when you meet Sextus Roscius—’
‘You keep saying that I’ll soon be meeting someone – first Caecilia Metella, now Sextus Roscius. Will they be arriving soon?’
‘Actually, it’s best if we pay them a visit ourselves.’
‘What makes you so certain that I’ll be coming along? I came here under the impression that you had work for me, but so far you haven’t even explained what you want. Nor have you made any mention of payment.’
‘I’m aware of your regular fees, at least as Hortensius explained them. I assume he would know.’
I nodded.
‘As for the job, it’s this: I want proof that Sextus Roscius is innocent of his father’s murder. Better than that, I want to know who the real murderers were. Even better, I want to know who hired those murderers, and why. And all of this in eight days, before the Ides.’
‘You talk as if I’d already accepted the job. Perhaps I’m not interested, Cicero.’
He shook his head and pressed his lips into a thin smile.
‘You’re not the only man who can deduce another man’s character before you’ve met him, Gordianus. I do know a thing or two about you. Three things, in fact. Any one of them would persuade you to take this case. First, you need the money. A man of your means, living in a big house up on the Esquiline – there can never be enough money. Am I right?’
I shrugged.
‘Secondly, Hortensius tells me that you love a mystery. Or rather that you hate a mystery. You’re the type that can’t abide the unknown, that feels compelled to wrest truth from falsehood, strike order from chaos. Who killed old Roscius, Gordianus? You’re already hooked, like a fish on a line. Admit it.’
‘Well . . .’
‘Thirdly, you’re a man who loves justice.’
‘Did Hortensius tell you that, too? Hortensius wouldn’t know a just man from—’
‘No one told me. That I deduced for myself, in the last half hour. No man speaks his mind as candidly as you have who isn’t a lover of justice. I’m offering you a chance to see it done.’ He leaned forwards in his chair. ‘Can you bear to see an innocent man put to death?
Suddenly the curtain gave an audible snap. A breath of warmth eddied across the tiles and over my feet. The room had finally released its pent-up sigh.
‘You ask if I believe that Sextus Roscius is innocent of his father’s murder.’ Cicero spread his fingers and pressed the tips together. ‘The answer is yes. When you meet him, you too will believe in his innocence.’
It seemed at last that we might be getting down to business. I had had enough of the games passing back and forth in Cicero’s study, enough of the yellow curtain and the stifling heat.
‘How exactly did he die, the old man? Bludgeons, knives, stones? How many assailants? Were they seen? Can they be identified? Where was the son at the very moment the crime took place, and how did he learn the news? Who else had reason to kill the old man? What were the terms of his will? Who brings the charges against the son, and why?’ I paused, but only to take a sip of wine. ‘And tell me this—’
‘Gordianus,’ Cicero laughed, ‘if I knew all this, I would hardly be needing your services, would I?’
‘But you must know a little.’
‘More than a little, but still not enough. Very well, I can at least answer your last question. The charges have been lodged by a prosecutor named Gaius Erucius. I see you’ve heard of him – or has the wine turned to vinegar in your mouth?’
‘I’ve more than heard of him,’ I said. ‘From time to time I’ve actually worked for him, but only from hunger. Erucius was born a slave in Sicily; now he’s a freedman with the shadiest law practice in Rome. He takes cases for money, not merit. He’d defend a man who raped his mother if there was gold in it, and then turn around and prosecute the old woman for slander if he saw a profit. Any idea who’s hired him to take on the case?’
‘No, but when you meet Sextus Roscius—’
‘You keep saying that I’ll soon be meeting someone – first Caecilia Metella, now Sextus Roscius. Will they be arriving soon?’
‘Actually, it’s best if we pay them a visit ourselves.’
‘What makes you so certain that I’ll be coming along? I came here under the impression that you had work for me, but so far you haven’t even explained what you want. Nor have you made any mention of payment.’
‘I’m aware of your regular fees, at least as Hortensius explained them. I assume he would know.’
I nodded.
‘As for the job, it’s this: I want proof that Sextus Roscius is innocent of his father’s murder. Better than that, I want to know who the real murderers were. Even better, I want to know who hired those murderers, and why. And all of this in eight days, before the Ides.’
‘You talk as if I’d already accepted the job. Perhaps I’m not interested, Cicero.’
He shook his head and pressed his lips into a thin smile.
‘You’re not the only man who can deduce another man’s character before you’ve met him, Gordianus. I do know a thing or two about you. Three things, in fact. Any one of them would persuade you to take this case. First, you need the money. A man of your means, living in a big house up on the Esquiline – there can never be enough money. Am I right?’
I shrugged.
‘Secondly, Hortensius tells me that you love a mystery. Or rather that you hate a mystery. You’re the type that can’t abide the unknown, that feels compelled to wrest truth from falsehood, strike order from chaos. Who killed old Roscius, Gordianus? You’re already hooked, like a fish on a line. Admit it.’
‘Well . . .’
‘Thirdly, you’re a man who loves justice.’
‘Did Hortensius tell you that, too? Hortensius wouldn’t know a just man from—’
‘No one told me. That I deduced for myself, in the last half hour. No man speaks his mind as candidly as you have who isn’t a lover of justice. I’m offering you a chance to see it done.’ He leaned forwards in his chair. ‘Can you bear to see an innocent man put to death?
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