The Mammoth Book of Roman Whodunnits Read Free

up for it or not?”
    It occurs to me that when my mother taught me to speak, she entrusted a deadly weapon to my worst enemy. “Of course,” I said.
    “Now you’ve examined the body,” Scipio said, as we sat opposite each other in his tent behind big cups of wine, “I expect you’ll be wanting some background on Acer. Right?”
    I nodded slowly. I was reluctant to open my mouth just then, for fear of what might come gushing out of it. It’s embarrassing when strangers can see what you’ve been eating lately.
    “Fine,” he said. “The main thing about Acer was, he was a Senator. Big man in the Senate, all through the war; supported Fabius after Trasimene, stuck with him after the Metaurus, when everyone else was on my side about the invasion of Africa. I respected him for that, but nobody much else did. Probably that’s why he was so keen to come out here, to show them all he was big enough to accept the Senate’s decision even though he didn’t agree with it. So hewrote to me asking for a command; and he’d been a good soldier when he was young, fought against Demetrius in Illyria, so I didn’t mind accommodating him, and anyhow, he was family. Did well in the battle, too; I’d tucked him away at the back of the heavy infantry where he couldn’t get hurt, but an elephant broke through the line and went crazy, caused a real mess. Acer was back there with the reserve; he charged out in front of the horrible creature, on foot, alone, and actually managed to keep it pinned down until the archers shot off its crew and our people were able to get ropes on it. Not quite sure how he managed it, because every time he told the story it was slightly different, but a man who was there said he stuck a spear right up through its lower lip, then danced about in front of it dodging and yelling, and somehow contrived not to get trampled or swatted. Not bad work for a man in his fifties.”
    I nodded. Vitellius Acer had been living on borrowed time after that, no question. It’s a Roman knack, doing bloody stupid things that History later turns to gold, like the contents of Midas’ chamber-pot.
    “Anyway,” Scipio went on, “that tells you he was brave, impetuous, not the sharpest needle in the case maybe, but he had nerve.”
    “Enemies,” I said.
    Scipio laughed. “Oh, he had enemies all right,” he said. “In politics, the number of enemies you make is one of the most reliable ways of keeping score. I can give you three names straight off the top; Servius Gnatho, Publius Licinius –” he paused, and grinned. “And me, of course.”
    I hadn’t been expecting that. “You,” I said. “But I thought –”
    “I liked him, actually,” Scipio said. “And he was a sort of cousin, and he did well in the battle. Fact remains, he was a very effective supporter of Fabius Maximus, and thereforemy sworn enemy, politically. Also,” he added, with a shrug, “he hated me like poison, which made him a security risk, if you follow me. Oh, I didn’t kill him, and I didn’t tell anybody else to take care of it, either. Trouble with being the man in charge, though, you get a lot of people who’re always trying to guess what you want well in advance, so they can suck up to you by doing it. Killing my acknowledged enemy is just the sort of thing some ambitious hothead’d do on the offchance there’d be a nice reward.”
    “In which case,” I said quietly, “you wouldn’t want him caught, right?”
    “Wrong.” He looked all Roman at me, down his nose. “Unauthorized murders aren’t approved procedure in my army.”
    “Fine,” I said. “And approved murders?”
    He smiled. “War is approved murder,” he said. “But Hannibal didn’t kill this poor sucker.”
    Thing about being a lawyer, you get used to the other guy being the straight man. “You assume,” I said. “But there’s escaped prisoners, spies –”
    “Or maybe he was hit by extremely solid lightning. But it’s rather