the main building into a large garden with a portico. The garden had a wall, but I could see a gate at the far end. That must’ve been where Cosmus was heading for when Veturina had seen him. If she had seen him: I wasn’t going to take all that lady had said quite on trust yet. Far from it.
‘Just along here, sir.’ Scopas led me along the portico and through a door back into the main building. ‘Here we are. The master’s suite is on your left.’
Where the corridor ended, in other words. Before going in, though, I looked to the right. There were several doors. ‘Which are the rooms your mistress uses?’ I said.
‘Third door along, sir. The rooms’re connected inside.’
Hardly more than half a dozen yards; yeah, Veturina had said that she didn’t want to be too far away. ‘And the latrine?’
‘At the far end of the corridor, sir, next to the bath suite.’
Check. I opened the first door on the right after the exit to the portico. A small, anonymous bedroom, obviously unused. ‘That other room empty as well, Scopas? The one between here and your mistress’s?’
‘Just a cupboard, sir. Linen press.’
‘Fine.’ Well, that was all pretty straightforward. It added up, too. I opened the door to Hostilius’s bedroom and went in.
Like Scopas had said, it was a small suite; the same sort of thing, presumably, as Veturina’s. The door led into a sitting-room that opened onto the portico outside and overlooked the garden beyond. It was a big room, light and airy, with frescos on the walls and a good mosaic on the floor, a couch and a table next to it, and a bookcase with most of the cubbies filled. There was a writing desk and a stool, too, and an alcove with a vase of fresh flowers.
‘The master spent a lot of time in here, sir,’ Scopas said. ‘He preferred it to his study and to the atrium, ‘specially in the summer.’
‘This where he died?’
‘That’s right. On the couch here. He was taken bad while he was reading. Luckily - or it might’ve been luckily, if it’d done any good - Sestus the gardener was just outside, and he ran for me. I sent someone straight off for Doctor Hyperion.’
‘When was this exactly?’
‘Late morning, sir, an hour or so before noon.’
‘Uh-huh. And you fetched the Lady Veturina at the same time, did you?’
Scopas hesitated. ‘No. Only when I reckoned things was as bad as they could get, sir. The master...well, you know the situation, Valerius Corvinus. They hardly met, hardly spoke at all, and he wouldn’t have her in here at any price.’
‘She was in her own room along the corridor?’
‘That’s right, sir. Sitting-room like this one, with a bedroom beyond. It’s where she spends most of the day.’
‘So where was the medicine bottle kept?’
‘On a tray in the bedroom. If you’d like to see, sir?’
We went through. It was almost the size of the sitting-room and just as well decorated: obviously the master bedroom of the villa, the one Hostilius and Veturina must’ve shared for most of their married life. There was big double bed with a richly-embroidered coverlet on it, several clothes chests, a shoe-rack and - next to the bed - a polished black-marble table with a tray on it. On the tray were a stoppered silver wine-flask and a matching cup.
‘I put them back where they’d been, sir, on the mistress’s orders,’ Scopas said. ‘The medicine bottle was there as well, of course, but -’ He stopped.
‘But Hyperion took that away with him. Yeah, that’s okay, pal, understood,’ I said. ‘Fine. So how did it work?’
‘The master had his routine, sir. Up about an hour after dawn, took a trip along to the latrine.’ He glanced at me. ‘Didn’t hold with chamber pots, the master, always said that a bedroom was no place for...well, you understand, sir. And he liked to sit and think in peace for a while before breakfast.’
‘He had breakfast in here?’
‘In the sitting-room. I brought it on a tray first thing when he
‘Just along here, sir.’ Scopas led me along the portico and through a door back into the main building. ‘Here we are. The master’s suite is on your left.’
Where the corridor ended, in other words. Before going in, though, I looked to the right. There were several doors. ‘Which are the rooms your mistress uses?’ I said.
‘Third door along, sir. The rooms’re connected inside.’
Hardly more than half a dozen yards; yeah, Veturina had said that she didn’t want to be too far away. ‘And the latrine?’
‘At the far end of the corridor, sir, next to the bath suite.’
Check. I opened the first door on the right after the exit to the portico. A small, anonymous bedroom, obviously unused. ‘That other room empty as well, Scopas? The one between here and your mistress’s?’
‘Just a cupboard, sir. Linen press.’
‘Fine.’ Well, that was all pretty straightforward. It added up, too. I opened the door to Hostilius’s bedroom and went in.
Like Scopas had said, it was a small suite; the same sort of thing, presumably, as Veturina’s. The door led into a sitting-room that opened onto the portico outside and overlooked the garden beyond. It was a big room, light and airy, with frescos on the walls and a good mosaic on the floor, a couch and a table next to it, and a bookcase with most of the cubbies filled. There was a writing desk and a stool, too, and an alcove with a vase of fresh flowers.
‘The master spent a lot of time in here, sir,’ Scopas said. ‘He preferred it to his study and to the atrium, ‘specially in the summer.’
‘This where he died?’
‘That’s right. On the couch here. He was taken bad while he was reading. Luckily - or it might’ve been luckily, if it’d done any good - Sestus the gardener was just outside, and he ran for me. I sent someone straight off for Doctor Hyperion.’
‘When was this exactly?’
‘Late morning, sir, an hour or so before noon.’
‘Uh-huh. And you fetched the Lady Veturina at the same time, did you?’
Scopas hesitated. ‘No. Only when I reckoned things was as bad as they could get, sir. The master...well, you know the situation, Valerius Corvinus. They hardly met, hardly spoke at all, and he wouldn’t have her in here at any price.’
‘She was in her own room along the corridor?’
‘That’s right, sir. Sitting-room like this one, with a bedroom beyond. It’s where she spends most of the day.’
‘So where was the medicine bottle kept?’
‘On a tray in the bedroom. If you’d like to see, sir?’
We went through. It was almost the size of the sitting-room and just as well decorated: obviously the master bedroom of the villa, the one Hostilius and Veturina must’ve shared for most of their married life. There was big double bed with a richly-embroidered coverlet on it, several clothes chests, a shoe-rack and - next to the bed - a polished black-marble table with a tray on it. On the tray were a stoppered silver wine-flask and a matching cup.
‘I put them back where they’d been, sir, on the mistress’s orders,’ Scopas said. ‘The medicine bottle was there as well, of course, but -’ He stopped.
‘But Hyperion took that away with him. Yeah, that’s okay, pal, understood,’ I said. ‘Fine. So how did it work?’
‘The master had his routine, sir. Up about an hour after dawn, took a trip along to the latrine.’ He glanced at me. ‘Didn’t hold with chamber pots, the master, always said that a bedroom was no place for...well, you understand, sir. And he liked to sit and think in peace for a while before breakfast.’
‘He had breakfast in here?’
‘In the sitting-room. I brought it on a tray first thing when he
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