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The Code of Silence

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4.

The actions of the tax Quaestor had had a paralyzing impact on the people in the Turnacum Prefectura. Particularly among the people doing business. One evening Claire’s husband got a tip that the Quaestor had also put his focus on their tax declarations. Claire and her husband realized they better would save what could be saved, and flee! Her husband had meanwhile made it safely over the Rhine, into Germania, with their savings and as much as valuables he could carry with him. He had insisted she would accompany her, he would not leave her behind, but she had stubbornly refused and insisted he would depart already. Officially, he was the owner, she was only an employee (‘secretary-dispatcher’) in the business, so she convinced him, the worst that could happen was a firm interrogation, which, she asserted him, she could handle!

Her objective was to save more assets, like recuperating her concealed share in the business. Their villa and its household effects were already longer made property of a mailbox company, registered in Hibernia, hence out of reach of the Emperor too, and she managed last minute to put a few more things out of reach of the Quaestor, by entrusting it to the same company.

It took her a day to have things fixed, with the assistance of her consultant. In the evening she got the message that her husband had arrived in Franconofurd, and she promised him she would leave in the morning as early as possible. He once more insisted she would depart immediately, but Claire said she needed some sleep first. Two hours later, the Quaestor’s arrest team stood at her bed.

The next 36 hours, Claire would have no sleep at all. She had anticipated a firm interrogation, indeed, but she had anticipated it would at least be civilized. She soon found herself however, in a cold basement of the castrum in Castrilocum, tied stark naked to a chair, confronted with rude and ruthless interrogators, who used all means to intimidate and threaten her. Touching her body, her privates, squeezing her breasts, slapping her, keeping her awake with cold water showers, while meanwhile, she had to endure a barrage of questions and accusations.

Then came female interrogators. They seemed to comfort her, attempted persuading her to cooperate. They even more touched her, apparently caressing her, but meanwhile menacing her, convincing her to cooperate with them, since the male interrogators were authorized to use even harsher methods, including rape.

“Make yourself no illusions! The fact of being a woman will not protect you! On the contrary! They can do whatever they want to do with you, whatever they desire, without limits! And we will not hold them back! Absolutely not! We will watch it!”

On the desk in front of her, incriminating evidence against her piled up. Proof of manipulated tax declarations, written in her handwriting. With the signatures of her husband and herself! There was little to deny. But meanwhile, it had become clear to the Quaestor’s interrogators, that her husband had fled to Germania with lots of valuables, and that lots of Claire’s economical and financial assets had been legally saved out of reach of the IOT jurisdiction. Beside some written-off tools and machines, and a few pieces of worthless office furniture, there would be little to confiscate! Something that made the interrogators even more angered. After she had confessed almost anything she could not deny – since the evidence lay in front of her – they kept pressing on her. It appeared more and more that the interrogation had become a purpose on its own, a sort of revenge, to vent their frustration that her both husband had escaped, and that she had arranged things in her own favour.

When she thought, there would be nothing anymore to extract from her, they confronted her with a new pile of papers :

“Explain this!?”

There was nothing to explain anymore, but the interrogators insisted. They released her from the chair, she had been sitting on for hours, without sleep, food or drink, in her own urine, and dragged her by her hair to a bench, where she was strapped on, belly down. They put a gag into her mouth, with a hollow tube, and connected it to a water hose. Then, they forced another hose into her rectum, and then they opened the water tap. First through her mouth. Within seconds, Claire fought in the straps, violently shaking, her eyes wide open. As the tap was closed and the hose disconnected, she roared and coughed, gasping to air. Just calming down, a voice said :

“From the back!”

The tap was reopened and by switching a valve the water was now led to her rectum. Again she fought against the restraining straps, with a scream of pain.

“OK! Enough!”

A woman stood in front of her. She was tall, slim, had long stiff black hair, dark eyes and a square cheek.

“Good day, Claire! My name is Livia Metella, Special Imperial Tax Quaestor! Do not look so surprised! Haven’t you never seen a woman in a public service? Bad luck for you, dear, since we women are usually tougher than our male colleagues! Because we have to proof ourselves twice as hard, AND because, if we accept that job, it is because our character is gifted by more extreme zeal!”

Claire looked up to her, too exhausted to reply. The Quaestor continued :

“They call me the she-cat, since, once I have caught my prey, I never let go, and play with it, until I get extracted from my prey what I wanted. Now, Claire, you are in my claws and I will make you regret the tricks you did! And you will pay for that cowardice husband of yours too! If he has at least an inch of a honorable man, he would take his responsibility, come home, submit to my authority and be with you to share your fate! But I doubt he will, and you shall suffer alone for the crimes of the both of you!”

The Quaestor then grabbed Claire’s hair, pulled it and looked straight into her eyes:

“You are of that Resourcers cult, right!? One of these narcissists, who think they are Serapis’ chosen ones!? Well, you better pray to Serapis that He will not let you down, when I shall have you nailed, because that’s what I am going to do with you! To a real cross, with real nails, like that so called messiah of yours! I bet, your Serapis has already abandoned you, since I have been told that the Serapis of your cult hates losers!”

Metella pulled harder at Claire’s hair. Ignoring Claire’s moaning of pain, she continued :

“We can give you more water sessions, Claire! It feels terrible, when we flush it through your mouth, isn’t it? Drowning on the dry! We can go on with that a bit! Don’t worry! Your stomach can take a bit! You will feel sick a while, afterwards, but that passes! But from the back, that’s also painful, right!? Keep in mind, Claire, that bowels are not so strong as a stomach. A bit more of this, and we wreck your bowels and your rectum! That means, you will never shit normal anymore! Anything will drop out like that! A life in diapers, and stinking all the time! No more social life! Such a terrible fate, you shall beg to get crucified! Understand!?”

Without waiting for an answer, Metella dropped Claire’s head:

“Lock her up!”

Claire got unstrapped, her head buried between her arms on the bench. Her husband would not return! Even more, during their last phone call, the evening before she had been arrested, he had expressed his worries, one moment, that she would get into trouble. At the time, she was still confident she would join him the next day, but she had told him, almost ordered him, not return, in case it would go wrong, regardless of what would happen to her. It would neither make sense for him to try to get her out of the Quaestor’s hands, nor that they both would be tried together. Although she missed him now, she really hoped he would use his common sense and stay where he was.

And concerning Serapis, she suddenly realized she had never, during her interrogation, even thought about Him, leave prayed to Him. That Quaestor woman was right! Serapis had already let her down!

As she got dragged into her cell, still all naked, she was hardly aware that her tormentors gang raped her before leaving her behind.

(to be continued)
 
4.


The next 36 hours, Claire would have no sleep at all. She had anticipated a firm interrogation, indeed, but she had anticipated it would at least be civilized. She soon found herself however, in a cold basement of the castrum in Castrilocum, tied stark naked to a chair, confronted with rude and ruthless interrogators, who used all means to intimidate and threaten her. Touching her body, her privates, squeezing her breasts, slapping her, keeping her awake with cold water showers, while meanwhile, she had to endure a barrage of questions and accusations.
I wonder how Skyler White's Quicken approach would've worked out for Claire in this universe...

 
the worst that could happen was a firm interrogation, which, she asserted him, she could handle!
She wouldn't be the first to make that mistake, and probably not the last, either... :rolleyes:

she had anticipated it would at least be civilized.

Did she go to the Barbara Moore School of Over-optimism? :confused:
 
5.

“Gentlemen! Here is the coroner’s autopsy report!” Chief-constable Octavianus announced.

Sulcus and Bulbus eagerly started reading it. Reading the report reminded Bulbus of the cold, wet and windy evening at the courtyard of the farm in Maurandiacum. He recalled how the smell of the manure in the wet soil heap had mangled with that of the corpses of the victims. Actually, he had seen worse. The bodies, initially lying face down, had been preserved fairly well, for having been buried a few weeks. The faces of the victims had been recognizable easily. According to the forensics, it could have been that the manure mixed with the soil, may have protected them from faster decomposition, by ‘attracting’ most of the components that contribute therein. An interesting case for testing at a body farm.

Being confronted with decomposing bodies of crime victims, in all its sometimes gore aspects, was one of the rather unpleasant sides of the job of a superintendent-detective of the crime division. Not so for the coroner, apparently. When the corpses had been delivered at the morgue, he looked even a bit disappointed for they had been comparatively well preserved after such a long time. It appeared to Bulbus that, the more a corpse looked gore, and the more terrible it was stinking, the more pleasure and job satisfaction that particular coroner seemed to have in his job!

“The husband got killed by numerous stabs, most likely with a farmer’s fork!” Sulcus commented.

“The wife probably hit with a spade! Both the flat blade and the edge of it!” Bulbus added.

“Then, both got strangulated as a finisher! Someone wanted the job well done, Mister Bulbus!”

“I completely agree, Mister Sulcus! The murderer, or murderers, apparently did not bother to conceal that they inflicted a violent death to their victims!”

“By Jupiter! Mister Bulbus! That last chapter!”

“What … does that mean!? Who…? What do you think, Mister Sulcus!?”

“It could mean, two things, Mister Bulbus! Either, there have been more accomplices, or our suspects are innocent!”


****

(three days later)

The burial place of the murder victims had been discovered, after Sulcus and Bulbus had compared the photographs in the newspaper, with those, they had taken previously, during their forensic survey of the farm. It was soon clear that the shape of a heap of soil, prominently visible on the pics in the newspaper, had been altered. As if someone was telling, through the newspaper : ‘Here, you have to dig!’. It actually turned out to be the spot, where the bodies of the murder victims had been buried. The autopsy report concluded that the soil heap had not been the original burial place, but that the bodies had been moved, and that, before the removal, they most likely had been hidden under a dung heap. This made the discovery even more mysterious, since, indeed, the translocation would have needed man- and machine power. How could this have happened undetected, on a known crime scene, and who did it – since no one in the neighbourhood seemed to have noticed it?

Although the forensic report could only give an estimation of the moment the bodies had been removed, with a margin of plus or minus two to three days, it was no doubt clear that it had happened when the current suspects, the young couple, had been in closed custody for interrogation, so, a judge had decided to have them released.

“So, Mister Bulbus, we found the bodies, but we lost our suspects! It looks like we have to start all over again!”

“I am happy for our suspects, Mister Sulcus! It would have been great injustice if we had kept them in prison and sued them for murder! I think, the verdict of the magistratus, to release them, was simply just! Despite the objections uttered by our esteemed Chief-constable Octavianus!”

“Any clue, Mister Bulbus, where to start now!?”

“I have… something, Mister Sulcus! As you noticed, I entered the office a bit later without having given previous notification!”

“I already wanted to inquire you about it, Mister Bulbus! Lucky for you, Octavianus is somewhere, sweating out the frustrations of his defeat in the courtroom, yesterday, or you should have smoked a cigar in his office! Tell me! What clue do you have?”

“You recall, Mister Sulcus, that I have driven our ex-suspects home, yesterday, after their release?”

“Go on, Mister Bulbus!”

“An empathic man as I am, Mister Sulcus, I did not just drop them before the gate of the farmstead and drove away. I gave them some advice, to pick up their life again. I showed them where we have found the bodies – they were relieved to know – and then I have asked them, if they had themselves any clue of a solution, that they might tell me on the spot, or they could contact me, without any obligation of course. They are still convinced that the woman’s parents have been murdered in a robbery. Of course, this could be a motive, since about ten thousand sesterces that is at least some amount, one would…hmm, commit a murder for!”

“I agree, Mister Bulbus, we have had robbers who had committed a murder for a much smaller amount! We must again consider robbery as a plausible hypothesis!”

“Right, Mister Sulcus. But then, the woman asked me a question : who had informed us about the disappearance?”

“That was…”

“Yes, Mister Sulcus, the murdered woman’s sister! That’s what I told them too! And so, I got informed about another family broil! That sister has a ten percent share in the farm estate, inherited through her grandparents. She picks up a profit, every year, but the last weeks before the murder, that sister had become pressing to get bought out, what the victims had refused.”

“Mhhh, Mister Bulbus, you bring up a motive here, for a murder and theft of the money, but allegedly a tiny one, so tiny that it will never convince a magistratus, to start a prosecution!”

“I know, Mister Sulcus, but since I suddenly had obtained potentially hot information, I did not want to have it become cold again, so I immediately drove on, to the sister’s home, just to have a word with her, nothing else.”

“Good thinking, Mister Bulbus! And!?”

“She was not home, Mister Bulbus, but I had enough to go inquire elsewhere – which I did, so I was later at the office – and we have an appointment with her, here on the square, tomorrow at 2 pm!”

“Now, you make me curious, Mister Bulbus!”

“I already made a summary of the facts that I collected, Mister Sulcus, with a timeline! See it yourself!”

Bulbus started to outline his investigations to Sulcus. Suddenly, they were interrupted by a loud voice!

“Ah! You two! There you are, completely with empty hands now, apart from two cold dead bodies that will tell you nothing anymore! And Bulbus, you should explain me why you were late without notification! Or did you think I had not noticed that!? I want a word with the two of you, for the complete stalemate, this investigation is stuck in! In my office! Both of you! Immediately!”

Chief Constable Octavianus was back. Sulcus and Bulbus stood up, exchanging a look with each other, confident that they would not enter Octavianus’ office with empty hands.

(to be continued)
 
6.

The next day, around 01:30 pm, on the Forum of Castrilocum.

“Mister Bulbus! In the… theoretical hypothesis that I would ever make a promotion to a Chief-constable, do you think I would become a grumpy bureaucrat, such as our Octavianus?”

“I am afraid, Mister Sulcus, you will! No Chief-constable can escape that fate!”

“By Jupiter, I’d rather shoot myself, in that case!”

“If the… theoretical hypothesis you just mentioned would become real, Mister Sulcus, and you would start behaving bureaucratically grumpy towards me, like our Chief-constable Octavianus, I will certainly remind you of that promise, you just made!”

“Hmm! In your place, Mister Bulbus, I would not push your luck in front of your Chief-constable!”

“But, Mister Sulcus! One thing! I have never seen our Chief-constable Octavianus switch so fast from grumpy mood to happy mood, as he did yesterday!”

“I noticed it too, Mister Bulbus. For him, the Maurandiacum case is solved now! But I would suggest for ourselves to avoid jumping to conclusions. First, because Octavianus always thinks a case is already solved, once we come up with a possible suspect. And two, don’t forget, by the way, that our Chief-constable is of the orthodox line, and that he hates Resourcers. That made him so upset about that recent newspaper headline, that his office was attacked because of the murder of -just – two Resourcers! And our new susp…”

“There she is, Mister Sulcus, Livia Metella!”

A woman approached. She was tall, slim, had long stiff black hair, dark eyes and a square cheek.

“Madam Metella!? I am superintendent-inspector Sulcus, and this is my colleague superintendent-inspector Bulbus, which, I heard, you already met?”

“Indeed, Mister Sulcus! Nice to meet you! I heard you are interested in one of our clients, as I call them, Claire Brogilaigh?!”

“Yes, Ma’am Metella! We would like to ask her a few questions, concerning one of our cases!”

“I know, Mister Sulcus! Your colleague already mentioned it : the Maurandiacum case!”

“Do you have found yourself any clue, she could be involved in it Ma’am?”

“Actually, no, Mister Sulcus! We tracked down transfers and transactions of income that has been kept concealed for the Imperial Treasury! And even more important, we try to retrieve as much as possible of the money and the assets and values. We did not get clues of money derived from any criminal act as such! Of course, Claire’s husband is no doubt an accomplice in the fraud operations we are investigating, but he has fled to Germania, and for the moment, he is out of our reach. Is he involved in criminal activity?”

“We don’t know, Ma’am. That’s one of the things we would like to inquire Claire Brogilaigh about! She is a relative of the victims and we have reason to investigate her about the murder. We hope to find elements in her tax file that could help us in the inquiry!”

“All I know about it, Mister Sulcus, is that she had transferred money to her husband, between his leave and her arrest, nearly equaling the sum of money claimed to have disappeared at the Maurandiacum estate. She used the service of her tax consultant for it, one we also have in our custody! He will perform here also, today, and a corrupt employee of the Turnacum office too! Ah! There they are!”

They turned towards the scaffold, almost permanently erected on the forum, except for during festivals or other special events. Although public floggings were a nearly weekly event, in some parts of the year almost daily (any day except for the Days of the Sun, Mars and Jupiter), the arrival of the condemned always caused some rumour and jeering by people on the forum. Such executions always drew a crowd of some thirty-forty regular onlookers. According to the notice, attached at the steps towards the scaffold, there would be five public floggings that day. Four men, and one woman, named Claire Brogilaigh, 41 years old, from Sunniacum. She was sentenced for tax fraud, with conspiracy as aggravating circumstances.

Held by the arms, each of the convicts mounted the scaffold. Claire was brought to pole III. She was wearing a dirty, ragged dress. Standing before the pole, her dress was taken off, and, as usual for a flogging, she was shackled all naked. Her wrists were attached to the pole over her head, then her ankles, and finally, a belt was slung over her waist, and attached to the pole too.

Claire wasn’t that tall, Bulbus estimated her some five and a half feet. She had rather wide hips, and wide shoulders, but relatively long legs, and comparatively small, wide set breasts, which were a bit sagging. Although she had developed some belly, she showed little body fat. Her legs and arms were very wiry, very tight. She had a round face, a bit a heavy chin, and waving brown hair, down to just above her shoulders.

Claire’s face showed no emotions. She only seemed to struggle that, due to her smaller tally, her feet did not reach fully to the scaffold floor, and she had to stand on her toes and the most forward part of her foot soles.

“She will get thirty, the maximum! The full number of course! No suspended strokes! She pays for her husband being on the run! I think she realizes it well!” Metella commented. “The next pole holds Claire’s tax consultant, Idrus Loxuru. He is also a tax collector, for the Lutosa district. When we came to arrest him, he had intention to kill himself! He had prepared everything to cut his wrists! Old school! In a hot bath, you know! But apparently, committing the final act made him hesitate! When we caught him, he was outraged for interrupting his intentions. But in his eyes, I could spot some relief too, because we had intervened!. He, and Corentus Bhoghall, that corrupt tax functionary from the Turnacum tax office, will get the full thirty too, without suspended strokes! That’s obvious, considering the position of power and trust they held!”

“What’s going to happen to them, after this sentence?”

“Normally, Claire Brogilaigh will get a few years of forced slavery! For her applies the ‘three strokes is out rule’. If she would do it two more times, she would end on the cross. But if she would be involved in a criminal act, such will be considered aggravating circumstances. In case a capital crime has been committed to conceal fraud, or money obtained from a capital crime is involved, the credit of two strokes can be forfeited. But that decision will be left to a judge! For the tax collector and the functionary, they will be out anyway. No second chances! Instead of his self-inflicted knife cuts, Loxuru will get our nails through his wrists! Again, because of the abuse of their position, and because they had pledged an oath to the emperor. So, unless the magistrates would be in a very unusual mood of leniency, no mercy for them!”

The flogging had started. First a thief (twenty strokes), then a man who had drawn a knife during a tavern brawl (fifteen strokes).

Then, it was Claire’s turn. The executioner took position behind her. She clearly was aware of it. With an anxious look, she stared over the heads, over the forum, to infinite. Then, as she heard the ‘woosh’ of the first stroke, she closed her eyes and held her breath.

(to be continued)
 
7.

Pole IV.

On my right side, a man named Corentus Bhoghall is tied to a post, with number V. Corentus is, or, rather was, an account manager at the tax office in Turnacum. Before Special Imperial Questor Livia Metella and her team struck, he was responsible for the formal approval of tax declarations submitted by tax collectors. This procedure is often a matter of discussion, since administrators like him have the discretionary power to either approve or reject tax deductions and taxation proposals. The whole investigation by the Imperial Questor was about an established practice of closing ‘deals’ about those declarations in exchange for a ‘fee’ for the account manager. Several heads fell, the stable of ‘fees’ was cleaned, and some paid the bill.

The sad thing for Corentus Bhoghall is, that there should be more from the tax office in Turnacum here – well, I heard some administrators and tax collectors are or were to submit the same punishment in Turnacum! But making a clean sweep in a rotten office is one thing, politics is always around. At least some of Bhoghall’s superiors and colleagues, who approved and applied the same practices, should be here too, but on one hand, it would be a bad sign to the people to fully display the level of established corruption in the imperial tax offices. That could cause grunt and trouble among the population. Moreover, some of Bhoghall’s superiors were enjoying political protection. Probably, a zealous Imperial Questor like Livia Metella would have wanted it differently, but she too has to accept a political consensus about that! She was the investigator in the affair, not the judge! It’s the way, things work!

Mind you, the others from the tax office don’t get simply away with it! A bargain has been offered, especially to those enjoying political protection. Those found guilty of unallowed practices have been demoted and transferred to a faraway post, or simply sacked, or forced to retire early, and all have a big fine to pay! All this happened rather discrete! But unlike Corentus Bhoghall, and those unhappy few in Turnacum, they will not be publically exposed to humiliating corporal punishment.

Bhoghall’s mistake has been, that he had likely conducted his modus operandi too much in a public way. He discussed contested tax files with the tax consultant, in expensive restaurants, with a good meal, of course paid by the consultant’s client (and we managed to make that cost tax deductible!). He hence allowed to drop disputed tax charges, in exchange for cashing a ‘fee’ of up to ten percent of the amount. It would not have made him wealthy, but It allowed him some luxury, particularly for funding his expensive hobbies, travels and sustaining a bigger car. Others did the same, occasionally, or at least not so regularly, but he had made a system of it. I have dined with him more than once to settle things for a client. I bet, some restaurant keepers, who had themselves suspicious tax declarations, have testified against him, hoping for some clemency from La Metella.

Hence, he was the ideal scapegoat for public penance! A subordinate account manager of the tax office, no political protection, and Celtic roots! I see him, his face hidden in shame behind his tied up arms. Getting his rags all torn off, before a crowd, was clearly a shocking experience for him. I hope he can keep himself together, while his bare pale skin stands exposed, waiting for receiving the stinging kisses of the lash. Well, I can confirm, it is shocking and confronting, that last remnant of dignity being taken away, facing an eager crowd! Meanwhile, I realise that I am in that same peril myself, and I have to do my best to ignore the humiliating shouts from the crowd, mocking on my bodily imperfections,

Long ago, at school, I hated it to speak for an audience. Reciting poetry in class felt like a terror. Then, people advised me to fix my view at a distant point, over the heads of the onlookers. It worked, and gradually, I got used to face my audience. But this is both an audience and a public appearance of an unusual kind. I revert to the old school trick, looking over the heads of the onlookers, and I hope it will sufficiently work. I also hope, Corentus Bhoghall knows the trick himself!

What’s left for me? No more prospect than a cruel death on a cross, so has been made clear to me! My life is over and a terrible end awaits me! For Corentus the same! If I only would had have the guts to cut my wrists lately! But saying is easier than done for such acts! One more breath, only one, I had said to myself, in that hot bath! Repeatedly!

The fact that both Corentus Bhoghall and me have been singled out for a more severe punishment, also has to do with our involvement with the person shackled to the post on my right. Corentus Bhoghall was account manager for the tax district of Sunniacum, where I was active as consultant (my assigned tax district was in Lutosa, but the ‘fee system’ was all the same there!).

As I look to my left, on pole III, I see Claire Brogilaigh!

She had contracted me as a tax consultant, which was allowed, as she resided and in another tax district and had no business interests as where I was assigned as a collector! I know her as a strong woman, a strong character, tough in business. The kind of women you either admire or hate! A fast thinker, a good memory, and a very fluent talker. She knew what she was doing, and I sometimes wondered why she needed a tax consultant, with her profound knowledge of fiscal and administrative law. Of course, there is the general rule, one better leaves a business accountancy to a consultant, for they all work with standardized structures, what is much easier for the tax collector and the tax officials. A business that draws up is own tax declaration, makes it more difficult for itself, and draws attention, for not to say, suspicion from the tax collector and the tax office.

I sometimes felt pity for her husband, himself a hard worker, and very good in his business, with a good network and the technical skills he needed. But she was the financial expert, and when they disagreed about that mater, when they were in my office to discuss their tax declaration, she always got it right, and she often made that very clear to him, in a sometimes demeaning way! She really had the temper to do it!

I certainly liked her a lot – she and me understood each other better on financial affairs – and I shall not hide that I found her even attractive, the way she looked, the way she behaved, and the way she dressed and made up herself! I shall neither hide, that I had sometimes fantasized about a cozy diner with her, and talking about other stuff than tax deductions, and about ending in an intimate encounter. Of course I could not, she was a married woman, and obviously, it would have gone against all rules of integer conduct of my profession (obviously, many will remark that I have squandered my integrity far beyond the line, much further than by dating a client).

I admit, I have more than once imagined how she would look like naked, under her stylish clothing – I had envied her husband for the privilege he had. Here, my secret fantasy becomes true, to see her naked! Too bad it is not in cozy intimacy, but publically, in the most demeaning circumstances, on a scaffold on the main forum of Castrilocum, where she, and me, and some others stand prepared to receive a harsh corporal punishment!

Being secured to post IV, next to her, I cannot get my eyes of her (it comes up to my mind that, if I had cut my wrists that evening, I never would have enjoyed this view – always look at the bright side of things!). The way she is outstretched, arms over head, her head bent somewhat backward, looks very exciting!

Claire too has to dodge sometimes demeaning shouts about her body. As yet, the crowd’s attention is mainly going to the criminals on poles I and II getting flogged. I hear their cries of pain, knowing that is harm is coming into my direction. Something to be ignored too! Then the officials and floggers move to Claire’s post.

“Claire Brogilaigh from Sunniacum! Thirty lashes for organized tax swindle, conspiracy and lack of cooperation with the authorities!”

“Let us fuck her first, the Resourcers whore!” someone shouts from the crowd. I have to hold myself back from shouting “Shut up!”

I see Claire nodding that she is ready! Then she throws one -anxious -look at me.

Little I can do, but nodding to encourage her!

Claire would not have been Claire, if she would not have tried to keep strong. The first three lashes, she tries to hide her pain. But she could neither suppress groaning, nor her facial expression the she was really in pain. On the fourth stroke, she utters a scream, which almost sounded like a liberation, that she had surrendered to the supremacy of the whip!

She attempts to escape the torment, but the restraints around her wrists and waist give her no space for doing so! The strokes come down on her with full force!

I watch her entire flogging, every stroke. With mixed feelings ranging from disgust and anger, for the torment she is subjected to, over pity, to excitement, since her moves and screams are in some way erotic too.

It is over for her. She hangs half limp to her wrists. Her skin gradually turns red. Even redder are the welts. Some trickle a bit of blood.

They move towards me. I face the wood. One look to the left, where the tax Corentus Bhoghall awaits his turn. I see him in fear! I better would be feared too!

I nervously writhe, as in an attempt of my mind to run away! But the restraints holding my limbs and waist are very tight! I will be a sitting duck for the flogger! Making myself smaller!? Clinging to the post? For the next minutes, my only friend will be this wooden post!

“Idrus Loxuru from Castrilocum! Thirty lashes for organized tax swindle, conspiracy, abuse of authority, treason and perjury to the emperor and lack of cooperation with the authorities!”

‘In medio itinere vitae nostrae.
Inveni me in silva obscura
nam via recta periit.’


Just think it's like reciting a poem in public!

“Look over the heads of the onlookers!”

And perhaps, someone will even find my flogging erotic too! My last naughty thought before…

‘whooosh!’


(to be continued)
 
8.

A vilicus oversaw the execution. He did the counting of the strokes and kept the time. The usual pace was twelve, to a maximum of fifteen strokes per minute (the executioner was supposed to count to four before raising his arm for the next stroke). Fifteen strokes was the minimum, which subjected the condemned for at least a minute to the terror of the whip.

In about twenty minutes after the beginning, the execution was over. The convicts, moaning and trembling, trying to stay upright, fighting their pain and humiliation, would remain exposed for the remaining time of an hour.

“So!”, Livia Metella said, “they are yours now! From the moment they have recovered, you can interrogate them, and then, the magistrates will decide. We would only appreciate that, if they reveal something concerning IOT matter, that you will keep us informed in turn! Mind you, Claire Brogilaigh is a tough bitch under interrogation, much tougher than the men! And since our investigation is closed, you can always consult our files about them!”

“This is the first time, a tax fraud file mixes up with one of our homicide cases. Tell me, these tax collectors make a bid for the highest. I would think, they have to pay that amount to the IOT. If they can collect more, they win, if they collect less, they lose money.”

“It is not that simple, Mister Sulcus! The bidder who wins, has to secure a bank guarantee of the amount of his bid! While he collects taxes, he gradually balances that guarantee, under the supervision of the prefectural tax office. Besides that, the tax collector can reclaim expenses. He can of course get into trouble, when he does not balance his bid. When he collects more, the surplus is not his gain. The IOT wants its share of it, too. After all, there is not only the bid, but also the individual taxation rates that have to be met with. It is usually with these surpluses that the collectors try to cheat, for their own profit. Now one thing, who is a better expert in tax legislation, than a certified tax collector, so they are demanded as tax consultants too. The only restriction is, that they may not act as a consultant, in the territory they are licensed to collect taxes. Such consultancy work is an insurance against not balancing the bid, since it pays well. Actually, it happens rarely that a tax collector cannot fulfill his bid, particularly, in this case, when they make secret agreements, to keep their bids low. That is forbidden, but it happens! And here, the prefectural tax office was aware of such illegal practices!”

“Sounds serious!”

“Indeed, Mister Sulcus! But that’s not all! In their other occupation, as tax consultants, they bargained about taxations, and particularly on cost declarations, with account managers from the IOT in Turnacum! Often successful, in a good restaurant, with a fee for the consultant and a bribe for the IOT man! Everybody was winning by such arrangements, except for the Imperial Treasury, of course!”

“Did Claire Brogilaigh too..?”

“Yes, she did! She had hired that Loxuru as a consultant for that! He bargained deals with that Corentus Bhoghall from the Turnacum office, who just gave a show too, here! You hear! Celts! Always conspiring!”

“Was there anything remarkable in Claire’s tax file?”

“There were lots of irregularities! But one stood out! A cost declaration of ten thousand sesterces! Claire keeps stating it was an investment in the Maurandiacum farm, an injection of capital, to improve its efficiency. Other moments she said it was a loan. A risky one, she claims, because the farm and its equipment are desperately worn out, so it could have been throwing money through the window. And that is her explanation why her tax consultant asked a fee of twenty-five percent on the fiscal recuperation of that so called risky investment!”

“That’s a high fee?”

“Considering the usual rates between five and ten percent, it is! Such high rates are always suspicious!”

“I guess, it should be visible in the bookkeeping of the farm!?”

Livia Metella laughed.

“These farmers in the High Plains are both negligent and cunning, when it concerns bookkeeping! Furthermore, they are averse of banking, officially because it is against their religion, but rather because they do not trust banks, and obviously because working with cash is much more concealed. Nothing of any kind of accountancy is in good order there! They are subjected to a sort of flat tax, a lump sum based on a fixed profit rate on their real estate, cattle and acres of land! Much less than their real fiscal income! But mind you! Behind closed doors, they know their finances to the very last asus, but well-hidden for us!”

“I would expect that such exceptional transactions would be double checked!?”

“We did, Mister Sulcus, and we found nothing in the farm! I bet, if we had not intervened, then Bhoghall and Loxuru would have settled the question in the Ollam Igni in their usual way, and Claire Brogilaigh would have got her retribution!”

(to be continued)
 
9.

“Sulcus and Bulbus! In my office! Immediately! Briefing on the Maurandiacum case! What about that Brogilaigh woman?”

One : she reported the disappearance to the police, actually before the young couple even got fully aware that something was wrong.

Two : since, she hardly has showed interest in the disappearance case.

Three : she has a motive : recuperating as much money as possible from her share in the farm.

Four : her husband, who was physically able to help in the crime, has only fled to Germania after the bodies had been moved. In the timeline, he still was around all the time.

Five : after Claire’s husband had fled to Germania, Claire transferred an amount of money to him, approximately the same as the amount that has been claimed to be stolen from the farm.

Claire denies all accusations. She admits she had pushed her sister to get herself bought out of the farm, because she needed money for investing in their own business. She states that she had already brought up the matter more than once, weeks before the Questor started the investigation. She denies having murdered her sister and her brother in law, leave having buried the bodies, or having removed them. A bit conflicting, with these ten thousand sesterces she claims to have intended as an investment in the farm. But Claire keeps stating it was a loan, a desperate move to improve things! And frankly, the farm looks worn out!

Claire herself accuses her niece and her niece’s husband, the previous suspects, as possible culprits, having committed the murder out of fear of being disinherited and having set it concealed as a robbery!

Superintendent-detective Sulcus discussed the progress in the inquiry with his chief.

“Push on this suspect!” Chief-constable Octavianus said “I think, we are hot, this time!”

“Sir, so far, we have merely circumstantial evidence! No witnesses, no confession!” Bulbus replied.

“But we have a motive! An opportunity!” Octavianus continued.

“I don’t see that little lady charging with a fork, or with a spade, or a fork and a spade, and certainly not in a one against two situation, Sir! That seems unlikely!”

“Right, Bulbus, and therefore, she had an accomplice! That is obvious! Find him! That runaway husband, perhaps?”

“Sir, according to witnesses, he was supervising works, the time the murder must have taken place!”

“What witnesses?”

“Employees and contractors, Sir!”

“They may be biased, or wanting to protect business! Perhaps the husband has helped with moving the bodies! Why not? Check the witnesses again, if necessary! Perhaps, there was someone else who helped her!? That tax collector Loxuru!? He is an accomplice, isn’t he!?”

“Of some financial transactions he is, Sir, but he is over sixty! I neither see him charge with a spade or a fork!”

“Bulbus! He could have helped with moving the bodies!”

“Moving the bodies was impossible without machines, Sir! I do not see a tax collector moving a crane! Besides, what motive did he have to…?”

“Bulbus! He may been pressured by that Claire woman! Criminals sometimes do exceptional things to hide a crime, things they would never do under normal circumstances! Perhaps she had promised to go to bed with him, in exchange for his help!?”

Superintendent-detective Bulbus gave up.

“Don’t you see, Bulbus!? All clues fit! Gentlemen, finish this job! Get it successfully closed! Everybody will be satisfied : me, the Chief Officer, the press, and of course, the both of you, that you succeeded again in helping justice done! It isn’t such a difficult case to solve after all! And by the way, you have other cases to investigate, for which you will have more time to take care of! Now, out, you two!”

Sulcus and Bulbus left the Chief Constable’s office and returned to their desk.

“Mister Sulcus! You could at least have given me a bit more support, inside there! Octavianus’ hurry to get this case solved and closed in a rush, is not the way I like doing things!”

“I know, Mister Bulbus! But the Chief-constable obviously wants to score to the Chief Officer, anyhow, and then get rid of the case! After all, for him, it is merely a brawl ran out of hands, between Resourcers, in the High Plains! Not that sensitive to make a miscarriage of justice! And admit it : we have closed and won cases with even less convincing circumstantial evidence!”

“That is true, Mister Sulcus, but…”

“Put it out of your mind, Mister Bulbus! To me, Claire is guilty! The same for that tax collector! It will make no difference, and actually, if she would be crucified, would we care a lot? She will make a good example anyway! Don’t let yourself be carried away too much by considerations!”

“I think, the best we can do, Mister Sulcus, is to press on with interrogating the suspects!”

“Carry on, Mister Bulbus, if you think, that will put away your doubts!”

****

(three days later)

“Mister Sulcus! I give it up! There is no way they will tell us! Unless we proceed to harsher interrogation methods!”

“Don’t hide the word ‘torture’ behind an euphemism, Mister Bulbus! I see no point of using such methods! Our tax collector knows, that all that awaits him is a humiliating suffering on a cross! I even have the feeling, it cannot come fast enough for him, so that it will be over! And our Claire, well, I think she is more and more aware that the same fate awaits her, whatever she does, making her hardly cooperative either!”

“But, Mister Sulcus, Chief-constable Octavianus insisted we would push on them! We still are stuck in the same circumstantial evidence, we had a week ago!”

“Don’t’ worry, Mister Bulbus! The case against them is meanwhile being reinforced.”

“Reinforced? What do you mean, Mister Sulcus?”

“I have heard from credible sources, that our Octavianus has been lobbying with the Corps of Magistrates. He will not risk to lose another case. It seems, that coupling this case to the IOT fraud investigation, gives the affair a boost, Mister Bulbus! And vice versa, since Madam Metella and her IOT can take advantage of it too! It’s a kind of mutual leverage, all involved parties will benefit from such an outcome, and gain prestige! I am afraid that all our suspects, including, Claire Brogilaigh, will soon be cruxmeat!”

“So, all parties will benefit, except of course, these parties in the case, that are destined to dance on the cross, Mister Sulcus! By the way, I have the impression that we are put on a side track here!”

“It’s politics, Mister Bulbus! Claire is a Resourcer, a Resourcer with Celtic roots, who murdered to fraud the emperor’s treasury!? And there is a tax collector, not the most popular kind of people anyway, particularly when they cheat treasury too! And don’t forget our corrupt IOT account manager also! I advise you to also submit to the course of justice and switch off our personal conscience objections against it!”

(to be continued)
 
10.

A week later.

Claire got visit by Arthus Gwenn, a Resourcer priest, in order to give her spiritual support, the last hours before her execution. She gave him a letter for her husband. She had already made clear to be ready for her execution, just hoping that some friends and relatives would not attend it, since she did not want them to see her like that. The priest emphasized that the execution would be public, and no one could be banned from coming to watch it, either to support her, or just to enjoy the show, or for the pleasure to see her suffer. Certainly, there were people hostile to her, those who envied her success, and those who especially had disliked it, because they were Resourcers. The priest warned her also, that the taunting and mocking of the crowd would be topping her already harsh experience during the flogging, because even in the struggle on her cross, it is always hard to ignore. There would be people, among which lewd men, who would only be there for the lust of seeing her struggle naked on a cross. Some would shout the most demeaning words towards her, and she would be totally exposed and defenceless! Was she ready for all that?

She said she was! She had determined herself to accept her fate, but she knew her last hours would become difficult!

Father Gwenn said he would prepare her soul, so she could appear before Serapis with a clean sheet, having accomplished all the debt for her sins through her ordeal on the cross, ‘like the Messiah!’

They prayed together, but the prayer rather felt for her as a therapy to suppress her own deep fears, than as a reconciliation with Serapis for her eternal soul. She did not look so far as the judgement of her soul by Serapis. That was beyond a frightening thick fog in her mind : her ordeal on the cross to come.

“If there is anything, a burden, you want to relieve your soul from, you can always tell me now! It will be safe with me! And if it would be something, you fear Serapis will judge you about, then I can already bring it up to Him, and have a good word for you! Since, for Serapis, no soul hides secrets, He does not know off!”

Claire hesitated a few seconds, and then, she shook her head, in silence.

****

Nimiacum is a small village just north of Castrilocum.

Located where three already ancient Roman roads, coming from the north, join. It is famous for its sanctuary that dates back to before Roman conquest, and where since, the Goddess Vesta is venerated.

Nimiacum is also one of the four assigned crucifixion sites in the Prefecture of Turnacum. Located near the bifurcation of the three highways, near the sanctuary, and within walking distance of Castrilocum, the place handles all the condemned convicted by the assistant prefect of Castrilocum. It is a deliberate policy to carry out the executions in the region where the condemned have lived.

It could sound weird that, on a lawn just close to the sanctuary of the Goddess of Home, Fire and The Intimate, such cruel executions were carried out. But, since Vesta also protected the homeland security of the empire, this contradiction was perceived as normal by the visitors of the sanctuary. The protective spirituality of the goddess finds its opposite in the cruel experience of the crucified, which just enhanced the feel of warmth and protection, spread by Vesta over the righteous ones.

From the outskirts of Castrilocum to the crucifixion site is about a mile to walk. The condemned had to walk this mile, dressed in rags, and with their hands locked in stocks, symbolizing the ancient practice when the crossbeam was carried in the neck during the via cruxis. The stocks of each prisoner was linked by a chain to another, keeping them together, forcing them to march in the same pace, and avoiding escape attempts. Condemned were allowed to wear simple slippers.

It would be a busy day for the crosses. No less than ten condemned were to be crucified. So, the guards had even split them up in two coffles. The reason for this high number, had of course to do with the impact of Questor Metalla’s clean sweep of the imperial tax services. Apart from Claire Brogilaigh, also former tax collector and consultant Idrus Loxuru, and former tax office civil servant Corentus Bhoghall. The lot of condemned numbered another swindling tax collector, from Sunniacum, and a former colleague of Bhoghall. They had been sentenced for their participation in the fraud of two other condemned, two brothers who had their business in Nimiacum itself. These two had since years a very bad reputation for deceit, fraud, theft, violence, threats, scamming and even sabotage of their competitors. Claire’s husband had more than once uttered his annoyance about the way they behaved, and most likely, in other circumstances, he and Claire would have been relieved about their sentence, since it looked like that they always got away with things, others had to respond for. That was, of course, until Questor Livia Metella struck. But now, in a twist of cynical irony, Claire was joining them to the cross, and to make things worse, she, as only woman among the convicts, had to endure their lewd words towards her.

The remaining three had been condemned for crimes such as murder, robbery, rape,… These criminals seemed neither to bother a lot about their nearing cruel fate, defying with loud shouting and even harassing the other condemned. Although just a mile long, the march seemed endless for Claire, and fatiguing, since the scant footwear was hardly suitable for outdoors. Above everything, came the feeling of humiliation : the looks and shouts of the people, the stocks,…

Once arrived, with little ceremonial, the condemned were stripped naked, laid down on the lawn and tied to their patibulum. The onlookers then could see a very efficient execution team at work. The executioners gathered around the condemned, pushed down the body, and with rarely more than four hammerblows, each wrist was nailed simultaneously, by an executioner on each side. Then the ankles simultaneously to the sides of the stipes. The cries of the condemned were muffled with a cloth over their mouth. Onlookers could hardly hear them. The onlookers saw, partly covered by the executioners, the legs and torso of the condemned shiver up frantically during the nailing, at least, as much as the pressure of the executioner’s assistants allowed them to do. The real terror, the condemned experienced, remained concealed. Finally the cross was erected and slid into a precast hole in a concrete basement. The skilled teams needed hardly a minute to nail and erect each of the crosses. With two teams at work, the crosses of Claire and the other nine were up in ten minutes. Not the nailing is the punishment, but the time after it.

Once the crosses had been raised, Claire had to pull herself together! The interrogations had already immersed herself into a terror she had never imagined. Afterwards, the sentence and the waiting for the execution had given her some relief, as if the worst had been over. She had turned off her mind of what was about to come, even during the march to the crucifixion site. Then, the executioners had really jumped upon her, pressed her down, muffled her, and nailed her to the wood. Like the other convicts, she had screamed and struggled the unbearable pain. Hardly was it over, or her cross stood already upright, something she only realized when it came to a rest with a thud, that painfully shook her entire body.

Heavily breathing, struggling with her bodily weight, that seemed to pull her from the cross, with the pain, with the sudden restraint, she could not suppress a loud roaring, despite the fact that she felt, particularly as the only woman of the crucified, all taunting looks directed to her.

The executioners were doing some last finishing, climbed a ladder, slapped her hard in her face a few times to stop her yelling, and hung a titulus around the condemned’s ankles. Hers read : Claire Brogilaigh :Tributum elabi. Homicida.

Judicially, Claire Brogilaigh, former tax collector and consultant Idrus Loxuru, and former tax office civil servant Corentus Bhoghall, and all the others of the lot were dead. Agony was all left to them.

(to be continued)
 
she knew her last hours would become difficult!
You could say that...

Nimiacum is a small village just north of Castrilocum.
I thought, "what the heck, I have to give it a try." So I put 'Castrilocum' into Google Maps and it gave me a place called 'Thornhill' just off the A76 in Dumfries and Galloway.

And I've missed tonight's Caledonian Sleeper... :(

former tax collector and consultant Idrus Loxuru,
A well-known scoundrel! :eek:

Judicially, Claire Brogilaigh, former tax collector and consultant Idrus Loxuru, and former tax office civil servant Corentus Bhoghall, and all the others of the lot were dead. Agony was all left to them.
Wow! That was one efficient crucifixion. @thehangingtree would be proud!
 
I thought, "what the heck, I have to give it a try." So I put 'Castrilocum' into Google Maps and it gave me a place called 'Thornhill' just off the A76 in Dumfries and Galloway.
Keep on searching! :)

A well-known scoundrel! :eek:
Sure! One better has no affairs with such pathological imposters! :eek:

Very well written, Lox! Keep going!
Claire Brogilaigh is crucified! But is she guilty of the massacre at the Maurandiacum farm? Is his the end? Superintendent-detectives Sulcus and Bulbus are around, witnessing the executions! Will new elements show up? Stay tuned, by Jupiter! :periodico:
 
11.

“So, Mister Bulbus! There she goes! The last desperate dance of her life has begun!”

“Judicially, she is already dead, Mister Sulcus!”

“Right, Mister Bulbus! But she has many hours ahead to realize that and think about it! That’s the beauty of crucifixion! That’s making it so exciting!”

“Likely, Mister Sulcus, you know what I am thinking about!?”

“Sure, Mister Bulbus! You are thinking what you always think in this situation : did we nail the right one!?”

“Right on the nail, Mister Sulcus!”

“To me, Mister Bulbus, she is guilty! I am convinced of it for the full two hundred percent! As is that miserable tax collector there!”

“Mhhh!”

“Claire has written a last letter to her husband. It will only be delivered when it will be all over for her. It reads about like this : ‘Honey, when you read this, I will be dead! Judges have condemned me to the cross for the murder of my sister and her husband! I am sorry, things went like this! Stay where you are, live on, don’t look back, just don’t forget me! Love! Claire’. Surprisingly brief, isn’t it, Mister Sulcus?”

“Judges have condemned me… to the apology! And no claim of innocence, Mister Bulbus? Do I spot a concealed confession? Or have I become too much professionally biased?”

“Mhhh!”

“Anything that makes you still doubt, Mister Bulbus?”

“Actually, Mister Sulcus, I give it ….ninety-five percent!”

“Explain yourself!?”

“A conviction solely based on circumstantial evidence, Mister Sulcus, is always a good incentive to think back, to debrief ourselves, whether we have really investigated all possible options!?”

“Didn’t we, then, Mister Bulbus?”

“I recall you, Mister Sulcus, we had that young couple! They behaved suspiciously! Their statements were conflicting! We quickly pushed further, convinced that they had committed a crime, covered up by a robbery!”

“Right! Go on, Mister Bulbus!?”

“I still have this question : why did someone move the bodies, after our initial searches had found nothing? Why did someone put the press upon the case!? In the High Plains, a closed community that is practically a no go zone for reporters? Well, I have contacted the reporter, discretely! He has confirmed, local people have accompanied him to the farmstead! I did not ask their names, he was no suspect. Very unusual, in the High Plains, such a cooperation with the press! A page wide photo of the courtyard on the front page,! That was a clear statement : ‘gentlemen detectives, look at this!’. We did, we compared the front page with our photographs, and we clearly saw someone had messed on the place! The photograph in the newspaper read as ‘here are the bodies!’ It was as if someone wanted us to find those bodies. Obviously, clearing from guilt the young couple, that was in jail, and whom hence could have absolutely nothing to do with the moving of the bodies! You see what I mean, Mister Sulcus?”

“I see what you mean, Mister Bulbus! But our suspects convicted here, were free all the time!?”

“Mister Sulcus! Our crucified convicts are maybe wicked people! But I see none of them able to stab a farmer’s fork into a man’s body, or chop a woman with a spade! I see none of them able go to a courtyard, start digging and move two corpses! That tax collector neither, I do not see him able to carry a heavy body, without getting a heart attack! It needs more force, and manpower than him and that woman Claire, to carry out such a job! Imagine the hundreds of pounds that had to be moved, twice!”

“All right, Mister Bulbus, according to you, two of these crucified are the victim of a judicial error!?”

“Mister Sulcus, all I want to tell, is that we always must reconsider ourselves over a closed case, in order to keep our minds on target! We must avoid that we miss the truth, and fail to serve justice, because we make it ourselves easy and keep pushing on what seems to be the easiest solution! We must keep all options open!”

“Was there another trail to investigate, Mister Bulbus!?”

“During their first interrogation, the daughter and the son in law were unanimous, that the victims had neither enemies, nor feuds with other families in the High Plains. So we excluded that option, and they turned the suspicion on themselves. Maybe, Mister Sulcus, they lied about it!?”

“Why, should they lie about it, Mister Bulbus? They could have helped us with our investigation a lot?”

“The High Plains, Mister Sulcus! The code of silence! They may have protected someone!”

“Who, Mister Bulbus?”

“Mister Sulcus, during the investigation, I have picked up something from the local constabulary! Remember, the victims were angered about their daughter’s marriage with a simple farmhand. They were negotiating with another farmer’s family. I found out whom these people were. So here is my alternative version : that family had its honour deeply offended by the daughter’s marriage with a farmhand! They wanted a compensation! It came to a quarrel, they killed the parents and took the money. Perhaps the young couple, or one of them, was a witness of it, hence their confusing statements! They were silenced with the promise that the ten thousand sesterces sufficed as a financial compensation for the dishonour of the offended family, hence they could keep the farm, if they cooperated. The family concerned had the workforce to hide the bodies on the courtyard, and remove them, in an attempt to clear the young couple from guilt! All under the umbrella of the code of silence! No one will tell us about it!”

“Mister Bulbus! Claire had about the same amount of money transferred to her husband in Germania, through that tax collector, after her sister disappeared!”

“That is right, Mister Sulcus, but that could be a coincidence of timing. Claire has always claimed it was her own money, all right, profits not declared to the tax offices, she has confessed that, but I agree, it is a tempting example of circumstantial evidence! Just think, the arrival of Questor Metella was weeks after the crime, and unforeseen by all!”

“So, Mister Bulbus, according to you, we made a mistake!” Sulcus said this, while looking at the squirming crucified, who were clearly in deep and despair discomfort.

“I did not say that, Mister Sulcus! But I repeat, a bit of self-reflexion is always fruitful for future cases!”

“Right you are, Mister Bulbus! Chief-constable Octavianus is satisfied, and so is the Chief Officer in Turnacum! Everybody is pleased, because we solved the case, we can add this success to our honours list! And frankly, I don’t give a damn whether those two are guilty or not. For all their scheming with taxes, they deserve the cross! Tax fraud is stealing from the emperor, stealing from the emperor is stealing from the people, and stealing from the people is stealing from me either, since I pay taxes and I get paid with tax payer’s money! I hope, their crucifixion will set a good example!”

“Honestly, Mister Sulcus, I have no remorse or bad feelings about the outcome of this case either, concerning the tax fraud! I hope it will instigate the people in Rome to finally forbid to combine the office of tax collector with that of private tax consultant! And I do not believe in innocence either! By the way, I think that, for our tax collector, spending a few cruel hours on the cross, is a merciful solution, since he would have nowhere to go, broke, too old for hard work,… Looking at him, I do not expect him to make it to the evening! His face is all red, he is heavily breathing, and every motion demands an huge physical effort. Without that stabilizing sedile, he would already have…passed away. But tell me, what happened to your old principle that it is bad to crucify the wrong convict, not because you care about the error, but because the real culprit walks away with it!?”

”Like I always say, Mister Bulbus, we should crucify all suspects, then we have a big chance that the real culprit is among them!”

“Now, you talk like Chief-constable Octavianus, Mister Sulcus! Do I spot a very first hint of higher career ambitions, here!?”

“Hello Father Gwenn!” Sulcus said, ignoring the question and greeting the priest, who most of the time supported Claire in her agony.

“Poor Claire suffers, as she is supposed to suffer, gentlemen! But she has put her fate in the hands of Serapis, and accepts her verdict!”

“Father Gwenn!” Bulbus asked “You should not answer this, if you don’t want to! But to your personal opinion! Would Claire be capable of committing a murder?”

“You are asking my opinion about a guilt question in a case you investigated, detective Bulbus? Do I spot doubts in your conscience? I suggest, in that case, you look at her! What does your conscience tell you?”

Bulbus stared at Claire’s cross, without answering.

“Frankly, detective Bulbus, even though you and me do not worship the same deity, I am always open for a private conversation, to reveal what is troubling your mind, under the rules of silence of a confession of course! After all, we, priests of Serapis have become a sort of spiritual psychotherapists, those days!”

“I you are referring to the proportionality of the sentence, in relationship to the crimes committed, Father, who clearly wanted to make an example That’s the judges’ verdict, not ours!”

“I understand, detective Sulcus! Dura lex, sed lex! But if you ask my opinion, as a human being, who participates in society, and, among which, reads newspapers, and not as an envoy of Serapis, then, I tell you : I do not think Claire would be capable of committing a murder! None of them! Remember, Gentlemen, you still have not solved that question of alleged moving of the bodies of the murder victims! The logistics of that operation needed man- and machine power! Which, speaking as an ordinary citizen, should worry me, since at least a few of these involved are still walking around! Are we, us, ordinary people, safe, then!?”

“Father, in case you would ever consider a career switch, you could always join our crime investigation team!” Sulcus said, ironically.

“Haha, thanks for the offer, detective Bulbus! I tell you! My personal impression, Gentlemen, is that the murder has everything of an execution!”

“An execution, Father!?”

“By people they knew! People they trusted! People who did not give them any chance! A cold blooded execution, not a brawl that ran out of hand! And I don’t believe than poor Claire would be capable of that!”

“Sure, Father, we have gone a hundred times over that consideration!” Sulcus replied.

“Actually, Gentlemen, it’s not because I am an envoy of Serapis, that I do not enjoy worldly pleasures. I like reading crime novels too! Isn’t the question of guilt in a murder case derived from three elements : motive, means and opportunity?”

“Sure, Father!”

“In that case, I would not deny that Claire has a motive! But the opportunity? There is no proof that she was on the crime scene during the murder!? From the published prosecution documents, I conclude that it was even never clarified, where on the farmstead, the murder has actually taken place! Gone the proof of the element of opportunity! And the spade and fork used for the massacre have not been found either! Gone are the means! Claire has been executed only for a motive that fit the prejudices of a prosecution, which adds more importance to closing cases and scoring therein, than finding the truth! That, Gentlemen, is why I keep giving Claire the advantage of the doubts, and still believe in her innocence!”

“Interesting! Thank you, Father! We will not trouble you further with it!”

“No problem, Gentlemen! If you allow me now, Claire needs my support!”.

The priest returned to Claire’s cross.

“Mister Bulbus! It seems that Father Gwenn follows your ‘settling a bill’ scenario, but without brawl!?”

“That’s it! By Jupiter! How stupid have we been! Mister Sulcus! We are just two bungling idiots!”

(to be continued)
 
I thought, "what the heck, I have to give it a try." So I put 'Castrilocum' into Google Maps and it gave me a place called 'Thornhill' just off the A76 in Dumfries and Galloway.
I see why - in a document dated 1541, Tibbers Castle is described as ‘castri locum et montem lie Mote de Tibberis nuncapatus extendendem ad duas acras terrarum’, ‘the place and mount of the castle called the Motte of Tibbers extending to two acres of land’. The site of the castle is near Drumlanrig, the grandiose abode of the Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry. Thornhill is a douce wee toun just to the south, actually on the A76.
 
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