The Circus Maximus Murders!!! Chapter III
Originally Posted April 4, 2001
Author: L. Didius Silva [Reposted with permission]


I finally got up the nerve to walk across the street and see if Piso was at his desk. The Vth Cohort of Vigiles was responsible for the safety and security in Districts I and II of the Urbs, sort of a combined police force / fire department. Sullius Piso was its Watch Commander and my oldest friend. Unfortunately, we weren't on the best of terms right now. He had been part of the team I had assembled to rescue Rubrius Messalla's wife. His share of the reward for the successful rescue was to have been 2500 sestertii. Of course, when I went noble and freed her to escape with her lover, he hadn't gotten a single copper. And even though he had agreed with me that she should be freed, the loss of 2500 sestertii, added to the pay he lost by coming with us, had put a terrible strain on his purse and on our friendship.

Sitting on a bench outside their door, soaking up the warmth of the beautiful Aprilis day, sat Piso's hand-picked Punishments Officer Marcus Capillius Glaber. Glaber was a tall, handsome man, the kind of man that some would call a "Lady-Killer". He liked to run a little olive oil through his curls to make his hair glisten and he had so many muscles that they fought each other for prominence on his chest and shoulders. He was killing flies with his whip. He was deadly accurate; a casual twist of his wrist, the whip would flick out like a tongue, one less fly in Roma. I had once watched Glaber ply his whip on the back of a suspected arsonist they had apprehended. He had never allowed one cut to cross another on the man's back. When the arsonist had finally fainted from the caress of his whip, Glaber had used a few easy flicks to cut his initials on the man's buttocks, sort of his trademark as it were. Yes Glaber was a true artist.

His own private junior fan club of four girls, average age of thirteen, were sitting on a nearby wall watching him. Occasionally, he would deign to glance their way and slip them a wink. Their stomachs would get all buttery, and fill with butterflies, and they would break out into fits of giggling and then argue about who he'd actually winked at. Below them, probably older sisters of the girls on the wall, strolled two sixteen year old hopefuls. They slowly ambled back and forth in front of Glaber, arm in arm, in deep conversation, trying not to be noticed by him. In fact they had spent the last two hours trying not to be noticed by him. Glaber knew that eventually they would get tired and go home. But they were young and they would be back again tomorrow. He knew it and they knew it.

"Hey Glaber! The boss in?"

"Inside," said Glaber.

I walked into the combined office / storage area of the Vth Vigiles. Besides a desk and a chair, the room was cluttered with grass esparto mats, shovels, mattocks, ropes, buckets, ladders, and a water pumping engine. Off to the right was a small holding cell where arsonists and seventh story burglars could be kept overnight until they could be taken before a Tribune for a formal interrogation. Most crimes are done at night, and during the day only a skeleton crew would be in. But don't think that all the Vigiles did was to lay around and work on their tans. It was a hard dangerous job usually relegated to public slaves. The slaves joined up with the promise of freedom and citizenship at the end of their time. A man joined the Legions for twenty years. He joined the Vigiles for six. The reason for the difference was intentional. Only a very few lived out their six-year tour in the Vigiles and won their freedom and citizenship.

Piso came walking in from the back area. He had washed up and was drying himself off on an old tunic. He stood and looked at me, then said, "No!"

"I haven't asked you anything yet, Piso."

"The answer is still no. You've got that stupid 'I'm in trouble again' look on your face."

We both stood there without talking.

"All right, out with it. What's the problem now."

"I just wanted to see if you had an extra ticket for the Megalesian Games."

"What happened to yours?"

"I lost them."

He looked me up and down in disbelief and immediately spotted the severed ends of my purse strings still dangling from my belt.

"Don't tell me you got taken by a cut and run artist? HAW! HAW! HAW! Are you here to fill out a report, Citizen?"

He sat down at the desk and grabbed a wax tablet and stylus.

"Tell me Citizen, can you give me a description of the perpetrator?"

"Oh stuff it, Piso. Very funny. I'm surprised that you're stuff isn't read at the Theatre of Marcellus."

He put down the stylus, but continued to chuckle under his breath.

"Why don't you see if any are left at the Circus Office?"

"That was next on my list."

"Well I'll go with you. I was just going to walk over and place a few bets."

"Shame on you, Piso. You know betting is illegal in the Urbs. Which one do you use?"

"Fabatus, the ex-legionary. He has a stall between the Temple of Mercury and the Temple of Venus Obsequens across from the Circus. You?"

"The same one. He's always been dependable in the past."

"O.K., Let's go."

On the way out the door Piso said: "Glaber watch the store. I have to take care of some important official business."

"O.K. Boss. While you're there, put five denarii on Crescens of the Green Faction for me."

"Right," said Piso. Then he leaned over to me and said just loud enough for Glaber to hear: "Crescens!?! He hasn't a prayer unless Scorpus is sound asleep at the reins."

L. Didius Silva © 2000,2001