Vatia studied the splotches of dried blood. “Those could have been here for days.” He shrugged. “Or, you might be right, and the body was indeed stored here. Poor fellow.” He shook his head and left the bedchamber, Avitus and I on his heels. “Who lives in these rooms? Or are they vacant?”
I thought of the small girl I’d seen in this doorway when I came to visit Chryseis earlier today. She’d ascended tonight after the mob dispersed instead of returning here.
I kept this fact to myself. If the girl and her family had nothing to do with this, I didn’t want Vatia hauling them to the watchhouse to be locked away. I sensed he simply wanted someone to turn over to the cohorts for the crime, and he might not be too particular who it was.
Even if the girl’s family did have a part in this killing, I didn’t want Vatia near them until I discovered the truth of it. They might have been bribed or forced to help, unwilling participants in a murder, and they’d face execution if so, the little girl included.
Vatia had turned from me to Avitus. “Come to the watch house with me, Avitus. I want your report on what you saw here to go with mine. I need a reliable witness.”
Avitus hadn’t seen much more than Vatia had, but while Avitus scowled in displeasure, he couldn’t disobey.
Vatia gave me an abruptgood nightand marched out. Avitus went with him, still scowling. We heard Vatia snap at someone on the stairs and then scuttling footsteps as the curious person retreated.
Cassia bent and lifted a small object from the floor.
“What is that?” I went to her, the scent of her simple woolen cloak soothing in this place of death.
“A feather.” She held up a white broken quill that had long ago graced the wing of a bird. “From his helmet, I think.”
I thought about the helmet that covered Rufus in the other room. It had a crest of white and black feathers, and now I realized what was wrong with it.
“The helmet is a Thracian’s,” I said. “Rufus was a myrmillo.”
Cassia’s brows went up. “Is the costume significantly different?”
Her question told me she’d never been to gladiatorial games. “The helmets both have crests but are not exactly the same. The swords are quite different—the myrmillo carries a straightgladius, but the Thracian’s sword, thesica, is curved.”
“Perhaps the killer did not know that. Or decided one costume was as good as another.”
I rubbed a finger under my lower lip. “If he has fixed on gladiators, I’d think he’d be ardent about the games. He’d know the difference, and exactly which of Aemil’s gladiators took what role. I was almost always a secutor. Ajax also was a secutor, and his body was dressed correctly.”
Cassia tucked the feather into her cloak. “Which makes me wonder where this person obtained the gear.”
“If it is a man or woman wealthy enough to serve gilded food, they’d be wealthy enough to collect gladiator gear. But I still wonder why the mistake.”
“When we find him, we will ask him.” Cassia stepped past me and out of the apartment, returning to Chryseis’s.
I didn’t bother to tell Cassia she’d be nowhere near this killer when he was caught.
Martolia huddled by Rufus’s now-covered body. When we entered, Martolia sprang up and hurled herself at me, latching on to me and burying her face in my chest.
“Who is she?” Cassia asked softly as I awkwardly patted Martolia’s back.
“Martolia. Merope’s sister.”
“Ah.” Cassia came to her, gently unwinding her arms from my body. “I’m so sorry, Martolia. We will see you safely home.”
Martolia turned to Cassia and flung her arms around her. Cassia started, but then gathered Martolia to her. “There now,” she murmured.
I gestured for Cassia to wait with Martolia, and I left the room and took the stairs upward to find the family who’d once lived across the hall from Chryseis.
Chapter 10
Cold came at me as I reached the top of the building. The roofs on many insulae were full of holes, letting in wind and rain in the winter, heat in the summer. A chilly winter day meant icy dankness on the upper floors.
Both apartments were occupied, I could tell by the noise behind the doors. I thumped on one of them.
A woman yanked it open, sending me a belligerent glare that turned into a fearful recoil as she beheld me. I gazed past her at the family huddled around a flickering oil lamp but I did not see the girl among them. I held up my hand to reassure the woman and pulled the door shut for her.
