Lustrum (38 page)

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.

Terentia turned the full force of her scrutiny on to me. 'Why would Crassus go to such lengths to cause your master trouble?'

'I don't know,' I lied. I could feel my face turning red.

Cicero said quietly, 'You might as well ask, why does the scorpion sting? Because that is what scorpions do.'

The conversation broke up soon afterwards. Terentia went off to attend to Marcus. I retired to the library to attend to the senator's correspondence. Only Cicero remained on the terrace, staring thoughtfully across the forum to the Capitol as the shades of evening began to spread.

The following morning, pale and silent with nerves – for he knew full well what kind of reception he was likely to receive – Cicero went down into the forum, escorted by the same number of bodyguards he used to have around him in the days of Catilina. Word had got out that the prosecution was unexpectedly calling him as a witness, and the moment Clodius's supporters saw him pushing his way towards the platform they set up a gale of booing and catcalling. As he climbed the temple steps towards the tribunal, some eggs and dung were thrown, which provoked the most remarkable counter-demonstration. Almost the whole of the jury got to their feet and formed a cordon to protect Cicero from the missiles. Some even turned to the crowd, pulled down their collars and pointed to their bare throats, as if to say to Clodius's lynch mob, 'You will have to kill us before you can kill him.'

Cicero was well used to giving evidence on the witness stand. He had done it in at least a dozen cases against Catilina's co-conspirators in the last year alone. But never had he faced a
cockpit such as this, and the urban praetor had to suspend the court until order could be restored. Clodius sat looking at Cicero with his arms folded and a grim expression on his face: the behaviour of the jury must have been deeply troubling to him. Sitting by Clodius's side for the first time in the trial was his wife, Fulvia. It was a cunning move on the defence's part to produce her, for she was only sixteen and looked more like his daughter than a married woman – exactly the sort of vulnerable young girl guaranteed to melt a jury's heart. She was also a descendant of the Gracchi family, who were immensely popular with the people. She had a hard, mean face, but then being married to Clodius would surely have been enough to curdle even the sweetest nature.

When at last the chief prosecutor, Lentulus Crus, was called on to examine the witness, an anticipatory silence fell. He crossed the court to Cicero. 'Although the whole world knows who you are, would you please state your name?'

'Marcus Tullius Cicero.'

'Do you swear by all the gods to tell the truth?'

'I swear.'

'You are familiar with the accused?'

'I am.'

'Where was he between the sixth and seventh hours on the day of the ritual of the Good Goddess last year? Can you give the court that information?'

'I can. I remember it very well.' Cicero turned from his questioner to the jury. 'He was in my house.'

An excited murmur ran around the spectators and the jury. Clodius said very loudly, 'Liar!' and his claque set up a fresh chorus of jeering. The praetor, whose name was Voconius, called for order. He gestured to the prosecutor to continue.

'There is no doubt about this?' asked Crus.

'None whatever. Others in my household saw him, as well as I.'

'What was the purpose of the visit?'

'It was a social call.'

'Would it have been possible, in your opinion, for the accused to have left your house and been in Interamna by nightfall?'

'Not unless he put on wings as well as women's clothes.'

There was much laughter at this. Even Clodius smiled.

'Fulvia, the wife of the accused, who is also sitting there, claims to have been with her husband in Interamna that same evening. What do you say to that?'

'I would say that the delights of married life have obviously so affected her judgement that she no longer knows what day of the week it is.'

The laughter was even more prolonged, and again Clodius joined in, but Fulvia stared ahead of her with a face that was like a child's fist, small and white and clenched: she was a terror even then.

Crus had no further questions and returned to the prosecutors' bench, yielding the floor to Clodius's advocate, Curio. He was no doubt a brave man on the battlefield, but the courtroom was not his natural arena, and he approached the great orator in the manner of a nervous schoolboy poking a snake with a stick. 'My client has long been an enemy of yours, I believe?'

'Not at all. Until he committed this act of sacrilege we enjoyed friendly relations.'

'But then he was accused of this crime and you deserted him?'

'No, his senses deserted him, and then he committed the crime.'

Again there was laughter. The defence counsel looked annoyed.

'You say that on the fourth day of December last year my client came to see you?'

'I do.'

'It is suspiciously convenient, is it not, that you should suddenly remember that Clodius came to see you on that date?'

'I should have said that the convenience in the matter of dates was all on his side.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Well, I doubt he spends many nights of the year in Interamna. But by a remarkable coincidence, the one night he does happen to find himself in that distant spot is also the night a dozen witnesses swear to have seen him cavorting in women's dress in Rome.'

As the amusement spread, Clodius stopped smiling. Clearly he had had enough of watching his advocate being batted around the court, and he gestured to him to come over to his bench for a consultation. But Curio, who was nearing sixty and unused to ridicule, was losing his temper and had started waving his arms around.

'Some fools no doubt will think this is all very witty wordplay, but I put it to you that you have made a mistake, and that my client came to see you on another day entirely.'

'I have no doubt about the date – and for a very good reason. It was the first anniversary of my salvation of the republic. Believe me, I shall always have particular reason for remembering the fourth day of December.'

'And so will the wives and children of the men you had murdered!' shouted Clodius. He leapt to his feet. Voconius at once appealed for order, but Clodius refused to sit and continued yelling insults. 'You behaved as a tyrant then, as you do now!' Turning to his supporters standing in the forum, he gestured to
them to join in. They needed little encouragement. Almost to a man they surged forward, jeering. A fresh flight of missiles raked the platform. For the second time that morning, the jury came to Cicero's aid, surrounding him and trying to cover his head. The urban praetor shouted out to Curio, demanding to know if the defence had any further questions for the witness. Curio, who looked utterly dismayed at the way the jury were again protecting Cicero, signalled that he had finished, and the court was hastily adjourned. A combination of jurymen, bodyguards and clients cleared a path for Cicero through the forum and up the Palatine Hill to his home.

I had expected to find Cicero badly shaken by the whole experience, and certainly at first sight he looked it. His hair was standing up in tufts, his toga was streaked with dirt. But otherwise he was unscathed. Indeed, he was exultant, striding around his library, reliving the highlights of his testimony. He felt he had defeated Catilina for a second time. 'Did you see the way that jury closed ranks around me? If ever you wished for a symbol of all that is best about Roman justice, Tiro, you saw it this morning.' Still, he decided against going back to the court to hear the closing speeches, and it was not until two days later, when the verdict was due to be delivered, that he ventured down to the Temple of Castor to see Clodius sentenced.