Lustrum

On the fourth day, the defence began the job of trying to extricate Clodius from this morass of filth. It seemed a hopeless task, for no one, not even Curio, was in serious doubt of his client's guilt of the actual offence. Nevertheless, he did his best. The core of his case was that the whole episode had been a simple matter of mistaken identity. The lights had been dim, the women hysterical, the intruder disguised – how could anyone be sure it was Clodius? It was hardly a convincing line. But then, just as the morning was nearing its end, Clodius's side produced a surprise witness. A man named C. Causinius Schola, a seemingly respectable citizen from the town of Interamna, some ninety miles from Rome, came forward to say that on the night in question, Clodius had actually been with him in his home. Even under cross-examination he was quite unshakeable on this point, and although his was only one voice set against a dozen on the other side, including the firm testimony of Caesar's own mother, he cut a strangely believable figure.

Cicero, who was watching from the senators' benches, beckoned me over to him. 'This fellow is either lying or insane,' he whispered. 'On the day of the Good Goddess ceremony, surely Clodius came to see me? I recall having an argument with Terentia about his visit.'

Now that he mentioned the occasion, I remembered it as well, and I confirmed he was correct.

'What's all this?' asked Hortensius, who was, as usual, sitting next to Cicero and had been trying to listen to our conversation.

Cicero turned to him. 'I was saying that Clodius was in my house that day, so how could he possibly have reached Interamna by nightfall? His alibi is preposterous.' He spoke entirely without premeditation; had he thought about the implications of what he was saying, he would have been more cautious.

'Then you must testify,' responded Hortensius at once. 'This witness needs to be destroyed.'

'Oh no,' said Cicero quickly, 'I told you at the start, I want no part of it,' and beckoning to me to follow, he got up at once and left the forum, accompanied by the two well-muscled slaves who these days acted as his guard. 'That was stupid of me,' he said as we climbed the hill to his house. 'I must be getting old.' Behind us I could hear the crowd laughing at some point made by one of Clodius's supporters: the weight of evidence might be against him, but the mob was all on his side. I sensed that Cicero was uneasy with the day's proceedings. Quite unexpectedly, the defence seemed to be taking charge.

Once the trial had adjourned for the day, all three of the prosecutors came to see Cicero, along with Hortensius. The instant I saw them I knew what they wanted, and I secretly cursed Hortensius for putting Cicero in this position. I showed them into the garden, where he was sitting with Terentia, watching little Marcus play with a ball. It was a perfect late afternoon in early summer. The air was fragrant with blossom and the sounds rising from the forum were as drowsy and indistinct as insects humming in a meadow.

'We need you to testify,' began Crus, who was the lead counsel.

'I suspected you were going to say that,' replied Cicero, with an angry look at Hortensius. 'And I think you can guess my reply. There must be a hundred people apart from me who saw Clodius in Rome earlier that day.'

'None that we can find,' said Crus. 'At least none that is willing to testify.'

'Clodius has frightened them off,' said Hortensius.

'And certainly none that has your authority,' added Marcellinus, who had always been a supporter of Cicero, right back to the days of the Verres prosecution. 'If you can do this favour for us tomorrow, and confirm that Clodius was with you, the jury will have no choice except to convict him. That alibi is the only thing standing between him and exile.'

Cicero looked at them in disbelief. 'Just a moment, gentlemen. Are you telling me that without my testimony you think he might walk free ?' They hung their heads. 'How has this happened? Never has a more guilty man been set before a court.' He rounded on Hortensius. 'You said that acquittal was “utterly impossible”. “Have some faith in the good sense of the Roman people” – wasn't that what you told me?'

'He has become very popular. And those who don't actually love the man at the very least fear his supporters.'

'We were also damaged by Lucullus,' said Crus. 'All that business about sheets and hiding behind screens has turned us into a laughing stock. Even some of the jury are saying that Clodius is no more perverted than the men prosecuting him.'

'So now it is my responsibility to make good your damage?' Cicero threw up his hands in exasperation.

Terentia had been nursing Marcus on her lap. Suddenly she set him down and told him to go indoors. Turning to her husband she said, 'You may not like it but you must do it – if not for the republic's sake, then for your own.'

'I said before: I want no part of it.'

'But nobody stands to gain more from sending Clodius into exile than you. He has become your greatest enemy.'

'Yes he has – indeed he has! – and whose fault is that?'

'Yours – for encouraging his career in the first place!'

They argued back and forth for a while longer as the senators watched, bemused. It was already widely known in Rome that Terentia was not the usual humble, obedient kind of wife and this scene was bound to be widely reported. But although Cicero must have resented her for contradicting him in front of his colleagues, I knew that he would have to agree with her in the end. His anger stemmed from his recognition that he had no choice: he was trapped. 'Very well,' he said finally. 'I'll do my duty for Rome, as always, although it may be at some cost to my personal safety. But then I suppose I should be used to that. I shall see you in the morning, gentlemen,' and with an irritated wave of his hand he dismissed them.

After they had gone, he sat brooding. 'You realise that this is a trap?'

'A trap for whom?' I asked.

'For me, of course.' He turned to Terentia. 'Consider it: out of the whole of Italy, it finally turns out that only one man is in a position to challenge Clodius's alibi – and that man is Cicero. Do you think that is a coincidence?' Terentia did not respond; nor had it occurred to me until he mentioned it. He said to me, 'This witness of theirs from Interamna – this Causinius Schola, or whatever his name is – we ought to find out more about him. Who do we know from Interamna?'

I thought for a moment, and then with a sick feeling in my heart I said, 'Caelius Rufus.'

'Caelius Rufus,' repeated Cicero, striking the side of his chair, 'of course.'

'Another man you should never have brought into our house,' said Terentia.

'When was the last time we saw him?'

'Months ago,' I answered.

'Caelius Rufus! He was a drinking and whoring companion of Clodius back when he first became my pupil.' The longer Cicero pondered it, the more certain he became. 'First he runs with Catilina and then he takes up with Clodius. What a snake that boy has been to me! This wretched witness from Interamna will turn out to be a client of his father's, you can rely upon it.'

'So you think Rufus and Clodius have plotted between them to entrap you?'

'Do you doubt they're capable of it?'

'No. But I wonder why they would go to all the trouble of creating a false alibi purely in order to lure you on to the witness stand to destroy it. Clodius wants his alibi to go unchallenged, surely?'

'So you think that someone else is behind it?'

I hesitated.

'Who?' demanded Terentia.

'Crassus.'

'But Crassus and I are entirely reconciled,' said Cicero. 'You heard the way he praised me to the skies in front of Pompey. And then he let me have this house so cheaply-' He was going to say something else, but then he stopped.