often—”
“Never mind that,” Pliny snapped. “Who saw you there? Did you spend the night with a girl?”
“Philaenis, yes, she’s my favorite.”
“And she’ll vouch for you?”
Argyrus’ color deepened to a dangerous shade of purple. He struck his thigh with his fist. “It’s Sophronia! She’s put you onto me. Balbus and her. I see what this is all about. She wants you to think I did something to him? Killed him?”
“What will Philaenis say if we question her?”
Argyrus’ eyes darted around the room. He was frightened now. “Philaenis will say whatever my sister tells her to say, damn her. I give her gifts but Sophronia owns her, the barbarian slut!”
“Watch your tongue!” Suetonius shot back, half rising out of his chair.
Pliny gave him a warning look. “Calm down, your sister hasn’t accused you of anything.”
“Then why am I here?”
“To clarify a few things for us. You would, of course, lose control of her money if she were to marry Balbus.”
“Marry him! Don’t make me laugh. She doesn’t want a husband. She poisoned her last one, you know. Oh, yes. Poor man developed a flux, turned yellow, and shriveled up and died screaming with pain. She hates men. Can’t stand to be controlled by anyone.”
Suetonius glowered at him. “Her husband drowned at sea.”
Argyrus attempted a laugh. “Is that what she told you?”
“Let us come back to the matter at hand,” said Pliny. “You can’t deny you had reason to resent Balbus’ attentions to her.”
“Doesn’t mean I killed him! Look at me. Do I look like I’d be a match for that man in a fight? Do I look like someone who skulks around in the woods in the middle of the night?”
Pliny looked at him sharply. “Who said anything about the woods?”
“Well—I mean, that’s what they said, isn’t it? Riding accident in the woods.”
“We said it was a riding accident, we didn’t say where.”
“You did—I mean, well it’s obvious, isn’t it?—” Panic flickered in his eyes. His head swiveled from Pliny to Suetonius and back. “What are you going to do to me? Don’t torture me, I couldn’t stand it, I’m not strong. Please. I’ll—I’ll swear an oath on the altar of Zeus—anything!”
“What’s an oath to you?” Suetonius sneered.
Argyrus puddled the floor around his feet.
“No,” Pliny held up a hand, “no. I’m not going to torture you. Or keep you here.” Indeed, he couldn’t imagine this pathetic figure overpowering Balbus. “But I warn you not to leave the city and not to talk to anyone about this interview. You understand me? You can go.”
“And stay away from Sophronia,” Suetonius growled.
***
“All right but he could have hired assassins,” Suetonius argued. “I wouldn’t have let him go so easily.”
“And you, my friend,” Pliny replied, “are letting your emotions rule your head. Argyrus is a miserable character, but a murderer? Now that I’ve seen the man, I don’t know.”
They sat once again in Pliny’s office together with Nymphidius, Marinus, Aquila, and Zosimus. Servants had brought in their lunch on trays.
“You say he knew about the woods,” said Marinus.
“Yes, but it is a reasonable guess, isn’t it? Look, as far as motive goes, he’s the likeliest suspect we have, but as for means and opportunity?” Pliny shook his head.
“But then that applies to any suspect,” said Nymphidius. “We’ve been through this before. Who might have known where Balbus was and who was the other horseman?”
“The likeliest person to know where he was is someone who followed him from his home that morning,” Pliny replied. “And that brings us back to Fabia.”
“But only if she knew about his affair,” Suetonius reminded him. “Sophronia was pretty sure she didn’t.”
“And, of course, she’ll deny it if I ask her,” said Pliny wearily. “I’ve been remarkably unsuccessful in getting that woman to admit anything. I honestly don’t think I have the stomach to go back there again.”
“Well, where do we go from here then?” said Aquila.
Pliny looked around the table, hoping to see inspiration in some face. And found none. “There is still too much we don’t know. Why was he where he was? Where was he going? Someone, somewhere knows the answer. We need to dig deeper. Zosimus, my boy—” he smiled at the young man whose forehead still bore the mark of his recent wound, “our clew of thread has so far led us up against a blank wall. We need another clew.”
They talked a while longer to no purpose. Then, as the others got up to leave, Zosimus begged a moment to speak to Pliny privately.
“Patrone, I’m sorry