What purpose brought you all together? You’re a small fish, Didymus. Give me the bigger fish and you may yet save yourself. Unless we can conclude this quickly I will have to leave you in prison for several weeks, even months, while I resume my tour of the province. You don’t want that, do you? Come now.”
There was a long moment of silence. Outside, a distant trumpet call signaled the changing of the guard. The banker picked an invisible speck of lint from his tunic, shifted slightly on his stool. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Governor. I’m an honest man. I have nothing to do with any secret cult. I worship the same gods as everyone else. And, as I’ve already told you, I never had business dealings with the procurator. You say you know I killed him? You don’t know any such thing.”
“Balbus was murdered on the morning of the fourth day before the Ides of October. Where were you?”
“At home or in the bank. Ask my wife and son, they’ll vouch for me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. It’s of no importance. We know where you were. You knew exactly where to intercept Balbus on his way to the cave.”
“I don’t know anything about a cave.”
“Let’s talk about Glaucon. Where did you get the poison you used on him?”
“I never!”
“His whole family died—wife, children, mother, the lot. Surely you feel badly about that?”
Didymus passed his hand over his eyes. “I didn’t poison anyone.”
Pliny drew another page from his folder. This is a question that Glaucon submitted to Pancrates’ oracle. Will I be punished for slaying the lion? Pancrates couldn’t understand it, but I do. Balbus was the Lion. It seems Glaucon was suffering remorse, perhaps even on the verge of confessing. I’m less clear about why you set a fire that killed Barzanes, the high priest of your cult.”
At the mention of Barzanes the banker sucked in his breath, he hooked a foot behind the leg of the stool and squirmed. “You can’t think I…I don’t know any Barzanes.”
“To kill that venerable old man, that was a desperate step. What did you think he might tell us?”
The night wore on. Pliny and Suetonius took turns firing questions at the banker with such rapidity that he hadn’t time to answer one before the next was asked, circling back again and again to the same points: How long had he belonged to this cult? What hold did he have over Glaucon? Where did he get the poison? Who helped him set fire to the tenement? How many initiates are in the cult? What did he do with the money he owed Sophronia? And again and again, who is the Sun-Runner? Through it all Didymus rocked back and forth on his stool, gazed here and there in the room, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and denied everything. The lamps guttered and had to be refilled. Towards dawn his cupid’s bow mouth contracted into a tight O and he stared at Pliny with unblinking eyes. Clearly he was done talking. Pliny summoned his lictors and had them take the banker away, this time to a cell in the dungeon. He and Suetonius regarded each other wearily.
Suetonius yawned. “I don’t know about Didymus, but I’m ready to confess to anything.”
Pliny made an effort to smile. “That should be amusing. We’ll save that for another day.”
“Is it possible he’s telling the truth?”
Pliny leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “He’s lying, I’m sure of it. But I have no proof and he knows it. And with the businessmen baying at my door I need an ironclad case before I proceed against him. I can’t hold him much longer or I’ll have a riot on my hands.
“What now?”
“Get some rest. We’ll have another go at him in a few hours. I have one trick up my sleeve. I’m reluctant to use it but if I have to, I will.”
***
Pliny slid under the covers, careful not to wake Calpurnia. He stretched his legs, arched his aching back, closed his eyes and was instantly asleep. He dreamed of rats. Rats running over his feet, up his legs. In a terror, he sat bolt upright. The first gray light of dawn sifted through the latticed windows.
“What is it?” Calpurnia murmured.
“Rats.”
“What! Where?”
“Not here, I didn’t mean here. I had a dream about them. Do you believe that dreams tell us things?”