I drew a deep breath. So much for the documents; whatever other secrets they might have contained were beyond deciphering now.
From beyond the statue of Minerva, I heard Pompey let out another wail of anguish. His guards quickly circled the garden, poking their swords into the shrubbery and gazing up at the roof, as Davus had done. One of then tried to draw Pompey away from the body, back toward the foyer. Pompey waved the man off. A moment later more bodyguards flooded into the courtyard, drawn by Pompey's cry.
"Diana! Davus! Back against the wall!" I said. "Davus, take out your dagger and throw it on the ground. Quickly! If they see you draw it out, they're liable to swarm all over you."
Davus's dagger was on the floor and his hands were pressed flat to the wall even before I finished speaking. In the next instant, three of Pompey's men were in the room, eyes wide and swords drawn.
From the garden, Pompey bellowed my name. "Gordianus!"
I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders. I turned to the brazier and pretended to warm my hands while I gazed into the flames to make sure that only ashes remained, then I turned back toward the door.
I looked the nearest guard in the eye. He was outfitted in full battle gear, including a helmet that hid most of his face. "Let me by," I said. "That's my name the Great One is calling."
The man stared back at me for a long moment, then grunted. The three guards drew apart just enough to let me pass through the doorway. One of them deliberately breathed in my face, making sure I caught the stench of garlic on his breath. Gladiators and bodyguards eat whole heads of garlic raw, claiming it gives them strength. Another made sure that my arm slid against the flat edge of his sword. I knew by such behavior that they were Pompey's private slaves, not regular legionaries; some slaves like to take liberties when circumstances put a citizen at a disadvantage. I didn't like the idea of leaving Diana and Davus alone in the room with three such creatures.
I took a breath and walked to the center of the garden. Pompey heard the sound of gravel crunching under my feet and looked up. His plump, round face was made for laughter or casting sardonic glances; expressing grief, his features seemed all askew. I would scarcely have recognized him.
He loosened his embrace of the body, gazed at his kinsman's face for a moment, then looked back at me. "What happened, Gordianus? Who did this?"
"I thought you might have an answer to that question, Great One."
"Don't answer me in riddles, Finder!" Pompey released the body and got to his feet.
"You can see for yourself, Great One. He was strangled here in my garden. You see the garrote still around his throat. I was about to set out for your villa, to bring you the news myself-"
"Who did it?"
"No one in the household saw or heard anything. I left Numerius alone for a moment, to go into my study. And then…"
Pompey clutched a fistful of air and shook his head. "He's the first, then. The first to die! How many more? Damn Caesar!" He glared at me. "Do you have no explanation for this, Finder? No explanation at all? How could it have happened, here in the middle of your house, without anyone knowing? Am I to believe Caesar can send down harpies from the sky to kill his enemies?"
I looked him straight in the eye. I swallowed hard. "Great One, you've brought armed men into my house."
"What?"
"Great One, I must ask you, first of all, to call off your bodyguards. There are no assassins lurking in my house-"
"How can you assure me of that, if you never saw the man who did this?"
"At least call your men out of my study. They have no reason to stand watch over my daughter and son-in-law. Please, Great One. A crime has occurred here, yes, but even so, I ask you to respect the sanctity of a citizen's house."
Pompey gave me such a look that for a long, dreadful moment I expected the worst. There were at least ten bodyguards in the garden. There might be more, elsewhere in the house. How long would it take them to ransack the place and kill everyone in it? Of course, they wouldn't destroy everything or kill everyone, only Davus and me. The things of value and the slaves would be confiscated. As for Bethesda and Diana… I couldn't bear to follow the thought to its conclusion.
I looked into Pompey's eyes. In his youth he had been extraordinarily handsome- a second Alexander, people called him, just as brilliant and just as beautiful, a commander touched by the gods. With age he had lost his beauty, as his bland features receded amid the growing fleshiness of his face. Some said he had lost his brilliance as well; his lack of foresight and unwillingness to compromise had allowed the current crisis, with Caesar defying the Senate and marching on Rome while Pompey responded with indecision and uncertainty. Pompey was a man with his back against a wall, and at that moment he was in my house, furious with grief, accompanied by a large bodyguard of trained killers.
I looked at him steadily. I managed not to flinch. At last the moment passed. Pompey took a breath. So did I.
"You have nerve, Finder."
"I have rights, Great One. I'm a citizen. This is my home."
"And this is my kinsman." Pompey lowered his gaze, then stiffened his jaw and looked at the guard in the doorway to my study. "You, there! Call your fellows out of there. All of you, back into the garden."
"But Great One, there's a man in here with a dagger at his feet."
"And a very pretty girl in his arms," added a sniggering voice from inside.
"You idiots! Numerius wasn't killed with a dagger. That much is obvious. Come out of there and leave the Finder's family alone." Pompey let out a sigh, and in that moment it seemed to me that the worst possible outcome had been averted.
"Thank you, Great One."
He made a face, as if displeased at his own restraint. "You can show your gratitude by offering me a drink."
"Of course. Diana, find Mopsus. Have him bring wine." She looked at Davus, then at me, then went into the house. "You, too, Davus," I said. "Into the house."
"But father-in-law, don't you want me to stay and explain-"
"No," I said, grinding my teeth, "I want you to go with Diana. Look after Bethesda and Aulus."
"If he knows something, then he must stay!" snapped Pompey. He looked Davus up and down. "You look familiar. Oh, yes, it comes back to me now. You're the one I lent to Gordianus a couple of years ago, to guard his house while he was off down the Appian Way doing some work for me. Only you guarded his daughter a bit too well, as I recall. I'd have taken your hide off, and then your head. But Gordianus wanted you, and so I let him have you, and here you are. What do you know about this?"
I watched the color drain from Davus's face. Pompey spoke to him in a tone suitable for addressing a slave, and Davus responded subserviently out of ancient habit. He lowered his eyes. "It's as my father-in-law says, Great One. There was no scream, no cry. No one heard footsteps, or anything else. The assassin came and went in silence. The first I knew of it was when my father-in-law gave a yell and I came running."
Pompey looked at me. "How did you come to find him?"
"As I said, I left him alone here in the garden while I stepped into my study for a moment-"
"Only a moment?"
I shrugged and gazed down at the dead man.
"What was he doing here? Why did he come to visit you?" asked Pompey.
I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you might be able to answer that question, Great One. Did you not send him to me?"
"I sent him into the city to deliver some messages, yes. But not to you."
"Then why did you come here, if not to find him?"
Pompey scowled. "Where is that wine?"
The slave boys appeared, Androcles bearing cups and Mopsus a copper flask. Casting furtive wide-eyed glances at the corpse, they made a mess of pouring the wine. I joined Pompey in his first cup, but he drained his second cup alone, downing it without relish as if it were medicine. He wiped his mouth, handed his cup back to Androcles and dismissed the boys with a curt wave of his hand. They ran back into the house.