“No. Keep to the subject.” After that, I did not dare ask about the possibility of Gaia’s parents divorcing, let alone the relationship between Scaurus and his aunt. I would have to tackle that with somebody, though. Somebody else.
“So Gaia settled down, still living here with her mother, and three years later her name has gone into the Vestals’ lottery. I understand you are opposed to that?”
“My opinion is immaterial.”
“Excuse me. I simply wondered if there had been anger in the family home which might have caused a bad response in a sensitive child.” He made no answer. That chin came up again, warning me I strayed too far into an unwelcome area. “Very well. Gaia Laelia’s own reaction to her proposal as a Vestal is relevant, you will concede. A motive for her disappearance might be that she hates the prospect and fled to avoid it. Yet I am told by all sources that she was delighted. This, sir, is why I am inclined to believe that her disappearance is some childish accident.”
“She is a careful child,” he disagreed. No children are careful.
“And intelligent,” I said. There was no flicker of grandfatherly pride. If I had been discussing Julia Junilla at home, either Pa or the senator would have been orating in full flood immediately. “I met her, as you know. Which brings me unavoidably to this question: Why would your granddaughter seek out an informer and announce that her family was trying to kill her?”
The old man was ready, and full of contempt. “Since it was untrue, I can offer no reason for her claim.”
I kept my voice quiet. “Did you punish her when you found out?”
He hated having to answer. He knew if he did not tell me, the servants would. “It was explained to her that she had erred.”
“Was she beaten?” I made the suggestion neutrally.
“No.” His lip curled as if disdaining the thought. I wondered. Still, Vestals have to be perfect in every limb. Her mother, wanting Gaia to remain eligible, would have protested against a beating, even if she dared not argue about much else.
“Was she confined to her room?”
“Briefly. She should not have left the house without permission.”
“When she left the house, where was her nurse?”
“Gaia had locked her in a pantry.”
Numentinus had expressed no emotion, but I let him see me smile slightly at Gaia’s spirit and initiative before I continued in the same neutral tone as before: “Was the same pantry used as a cell when Gaia disappeared yesterday?”
“No.”
“Who can best tell me what happened then?”
“Discuss it with my daughter-in-law.”
“Thank you.” I had finished with him. I might as well not have started. He knew that. He looked very pleased with himself. “I shall just check your room, if I may, then you need not be disturbed here again.” I scanned everywhere quickly. Flat walls; no curtained arches; only small items of furniture-apart from one chest. “May I look in the chest, please?”
Numentinus breathed; well, he seethed with annoyance. “It is not locked.”
I half expected him to come and look over my shoulder. In fact, he sat like stone. I walked quickly to the great wooden box and lifted the lid. It was so heavy I nearly dropped it, but I recovered and held it, one arm braced. The chest contained scrolls and moneybags. I let the old man see me shift them aside enough to check that no child was hidden in the base, then I replaced the scrolls and bags as found, lowered the lid gently, and made sure I showed no visible interest in the contents.
“Thank you, sir.” The coinage did raise another issue, however. “ It is possible, I am afraid, that Gaia Laelia has been abducted by some criminal element, with a financial motive. Would your family be known as wealthy?”
“We live simply and very quietly.” Numentinus had answered only part of the question. I did not pursue it. After my Census work, I would soon sniff out his financial situation.
“This is a large house. I want to keep a record of rooms as I check them. You only moved here recently; did the agent provide a room plan, by any chance?”
“You may have it.” He clapped his hands. A slave appeared instantly from outside and was dispatched to the steward. “That slave will accompany you in your search.” Supervision; I had expected it.
“Thanks. Was this house an outright purchase, or do you rent?”
I expected him to tell me he had bought the place, probably expressing horror that anyone should think such a family would be beholden to a landlord. “I rent,” he said.
“Long term?” It must be, if he had the landlord’s approval for the building work I had seen in the atrium. He nodded haughtily.
“I am grateful for your frankness. I hope the questions were not too painful. I shall see your daughter-in-law next.”
The slave was already back, saying the chart would be found for me.
“One final point, sir. I offer my sympathy for your late wife’s death. I believe it was recent?”
“The Flaminica suffered from a tragic illness that came upon her last July.” Laelius Numentinus spoke out so abruptly I pulled up. It was the first time he had volunteered more than a minimal answer. Did he love his wife? “There is no need-absolutely no need-for you to concern yourself with that. Her death was sudden, though nothing untoward.”
I had never supposed it was. I had only wanted to ask him if Gaia had been particularly fond of her grandmother, and perhaps troubled by her death. Instead I said nothing and followed the slave out.
XXXII
IT TOOK A while for me to be admitted to see Caecilia Paeta. I used the time to familiarize myself with the house plan; I marked off the room where I had seen the ex-Flamen, then covered two more while I waited. They were medium-sized reception rooms, very lightly furnished and probably not used. Given that the family had been here nearly a year, I was surprised how little progress they seemed to have made in settling in. Did they lack practical application, or had there been a reluctance to face the fact that they were staying?
The Flaminia, their official residence on the Palatine, would have been officially furnished. I had already noticed that what they owned here was old and of good quality-family pieces, probably-yet there was not much of it. Like many an elite family, these people appeared to have money, but less ready cash than they needed. Either that, or when they needed to reequip they had been too caught up in their wrangles to find time to go shopping.
The reception room I was called to next was typical: too much bare space and no style. Caecilia Paeta was much as I remembered from her visit to Maia’s house, though she looked more drawn. Several frightened maids had flocked to protect her from the immodesty of being interviewed by an informer. She sat hunched in a single basketweave chair, pulling a light stole too tightly around her shoulders, while they squatted on stools or cushions in a circle around her and stared at the floor.
Once again, I kept my voice quiet and my manner calm, though not subservient. I would have to know much more about the situation here before I started throwing my weight about. But I could already feel the tension knotted around this household. In the mother’s silence as she faced me, I could sense the years of oppression that had crushed any spirit out of her.
What kind of life did she face? Abandoned by her husband who, if Numentinus had his way, would never be allowed to divorce her, she was denied the normal right to rejoin her own family and start afresh. Her father-in-law had probably thought little of her to begin with; bullies loathe their victims. When she failed to hold his son, it would seem logical to the tyrant to despise Caecilia more. Now she had lost her child.
“Don’t give up hope.” I had not meant to be kind to her. She had not expected it, either. We shared a moment of uncomfortable surprise. “Look, we won’t waste time. I need to know everything that happened yesterday, up until it was noticed that Gaia was missing. I want you to describe the day.”