“My idea,” said Terentia, with relish, “is to use my husband’s money after I inherit! Ventidius caused this. He owes some return to the family. His wealth can make Ariminius Modullus happy, and provide for Laelia’s future care.”
“And what about Scaurus? Is his lack of brainpower why he never became a flamen?”
“Of course. The highest posts were open to him in theory. Appointing him would have been a shambles. Even his father had to admit that. Scaurus would never remember the rituals-even if he could summon the will to try. Caecilia Paeta thought, when they were first married, that she could help him through it, but in the end even she lost heart. Rituals have to be carried out exactly.”
“Ah, the old religion!” I groaned. “Appeasing the gods by the mindless repetition of meaningless words and actions, until the divine ones send good crops just to win themselves some peace from the mumblings and the smell of burning wheatcake crumbs!”
“You blaspheme, Falco.”
“I do indeed.” And I was proud of it.
Terentia decided to ignore my outburst. “My nephew’s wife, like my niece’s husband, could only endure so much. Ariminius will look after himself when he is ready; he has reason enough to leave, after all.” I wanted to ask what she meant, but she was in full flow, unused to interruptions. “Three years ago, Caecilia was breaking down; she had to be relieved of the burden of her marriage, but Numentinus would not face the problem. I put Scaurus on the farm to keep him out of harm’s way, and a sensible girl of mine looks after him.”
“The lovely Meldina?” I leered.
“You have the wrong idea again, Falco. Meldina is happily married with three children. To persuade her to do this, I have to accommodate her husband and family as well.”
“Ah! Excuse me, but does Numentinus play no part at all? You appear to have assumed responsibility; does the rigid ex-Flamen really accept you managing his children for him?”
“He watches feebly, complaining. His children are a great disappointment to him-so instead of attempting to put matters right, he absorbs himself in honoring the gods. As Flamen Dialis, he had an excuse: every hour of his time was occupied with his duties to Jupiter. My sister was no better. In a serious crisis, they both used to chew bay leaves and put themselves into a trance until somebody else had sorted it out. Thank goodness, as a Vestal I could command authority.”
Everything Terentia Paulla said could be true-or it could be some maniacal distortion of the truth. Was she really a dedicated savior of these hopeless people, or was her constant fanatical interference beyond belief? An intolerable strain from which they could not shake themselves free?
I kept reminding myself, the Arval Master had implied that this woman had run mad and cut down her husband like a blood sacrifice. The more she talked, in that angry yet well-controlled tone, the easier it was to believe that she could easily have killed her husband if she had decided it was necessary-and yet the harder it became to envisage her turning the death into a stagy tableau, conducted in a crazy trance.
Surely she would have wanted it quick, clean, and neat? Instinct said she would have made the crime itself undetectable-or at least concealed the perpetrator. If ever a killer had the intelligence and the nerve to get away with it, that was Terentia Paulla. Even if she had done it and, in her haughty way, had chosen to admit the deed, I reckoned she would have waited beside the body, then made her confession brisk and businesslike. The scene described by the Master of the Arvals, where a raving bloodstained woman was apprehended, then coaxed into confessing, did not fit at all. Nor did his description of a pathetic creature who would be taken into care match the cool woman talking to me here.
“So what about Gaia?” I asked her carefully.
“Gaia is the one shining star among this family. From who knows where-my family most likely, and even perhaps from her mother’s sideGaia has acquired intelligence and strength of character.”
“Yet you are very unwilling to see her follow you into your own profession as a Vestal?”
“Perhaps,” said Terentia, for once very quietly, “it is time one member of this family grew up to lead a normal life.”
I felt a reply would be intrusive.
“I would like to see some changes, Falco. Gaia will be dutiful, whatever role in life she undertakes.” She paused. “Then, as a Vestal, I must consider my order. I cannot knowingly approve of her selection. The potential for scandal is too great. She is a wrong choice for Vesta-and the burden on Gaia herself would be intolerable too, if a ghastly murder in her close family ever became public knowledge.”
“The lottery will be taking place now,” I said. “She’s out of it. If somebody has hidden her away to avoid her selection, she can be safely released.”
“Nobody did that. Nobody has deliberately harmed her either,” Terentia assured me.
“I’d like to ask Gaia how she felt about that.”
