The Thieves of Ostia scroll 1:: The Roman Mysteries

The Thieves of Ostia
Scroll I

Flavia Gemina solved her first mystery on the Ides of June in the tenth year of the Emperor Vespasian.

She had always had a knack for finding things her father misplaced: his best toga, his quill pen, and once even his ceremonial dagger. But this time there had been a real crime, with a real culprit.

It was a hot, still afternoon, for the sea-breeze had not yet risen. Flavia had just settled herself in the garden by the fountain, with a cup of peach juice and her favourite scroll.

'Flavia? Flavia!' Her father's voice came from the study.

Flavia took a sip of juice and quickly scanned the scroll to find her place. She would just read one or two lines. After all, the study was so close, just the other side of the fig tree. Her house - like many others in the Roman port of Ostia - had a secret garden at its centre, invisible to anyone on the street. From that inner garden it was only a few steps to the dining room, the kitchen, the store-room, a small latrine, and the study.

'Flavia!'

She knew that tone of voice.

'Coming, pater!' she called. Hastily, she set down her cup on the marble bench and placed a pebble on the open scroll to mark her place.

In the study, her father was desperately searching through various scrolls and sheets of parchment on the cedarwood table. Although Marcus Flavius Geminus was extremely competent aboard his own ship, on land he was hopelessly absent-minded.

'Oh pater!' Flavia tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. 'What have you lost now?'

'It isn't lost! It's been stolen!'

'What? What's been stolen?'

'My seal! My amethyst signet-ring! The one your mother gave me!'

'Oh!' She winced. Her mother had died in childbirth several years previously, and they both still missed her desperately.

Flavia touched her father's arm reassuringly. 'Don't worry, pater. I always find things, don't I?'

'Yes. Yes, you do...' He smiled down at her, but Flavia could see he was upset.

'Where did you last see it?' she asked.

'Right here on my desk. I was just letting these documents dry before I sealed them.'

Flavia's father planned to sail for Corinth at the end of the week. As a ship owner and captain, it was his responsibility to make sure the paperwork was ready.

'I left the study for just a moment to use the latrine,' he explained. 'When I returned, the ring was gone. Look: the documents are here. The wax is here. The candle is here, still lit. But my ring is gone!'

'It wasn't the wind, there's no hint of a breeze,' Flavia mused, gazing out at the fig tree. 'The slaves are napping in their rooms. Scuto is sleeping under the jasmine bush: he didn't even bark. Yes, it's a mystery.'

'It's one of the few things of hers I have left,' murmured her father. 'And apart from that, I need it to seal these documents.' He ran a hand distractedly through his hair.

Flavia had an idea: 'Pater, do you have another seal?'

'Yes, but I rarely use it. My suppliers might not recognise it...'

'But it has Castor and Pollux engraved on it, doesn't it?'

Her father nodded. Castor and Pollux, the mythological twins known as the Gemini, had always been linked to the Geminus family.

'Well then, everyone will know it's yours. Why don't you use that ring to finish sealing the documents, and I'll try to find the stolen one.'

Captain Geminus's face relaxed and he looked at his daughter fondly.

'Thank you, my little owl.' He kissed the top of her head. 'What would I do without you?'

As her father went upstairs to search the chest in his bedroom, Flavia looked around. The study was a small, bright room with red and yellow plaster walls and a cool, marble floor. It was simply furnished with a cedarwood chair, the table which served as a desk, and a bronze standing-lamp. There was also a bust of the Emperor Vespasian on a pink marble column beside the desk.

The study had two doors. One small folding door led into the atrium at the front of the house. On the opposite wall a wide doorway opened directly out onto the inner garden. This could be closed off with a heavy curtain.

Now this curtain was pulled right back, and sunlight from the garden fell directly onto the desk, lighting up the sheets of parchment so that they seemed to glow. A little ink pot blazed silver in the sunshine. It was fixed onto the desk, so that it would not go missing. For the same reason, the silver quill pen was attached to the desk by a silver chain. Flavia rolled the chain absently between her thumb and forefinger and observed how it flashed in the direct sunlight.

Suddenly her keen grey eyes noticed something. On one of the sheets of parchment - a list of ships' provisions - was a faint black mark that was neither a letter nor a number. Without touching anything, Flavia moved her face closer, until her nose was inches from the sheet.

No doubt about it. Someone - or something - had touched the ink while it was still tacky and had made this strange V-shaped mark. As she looked closer, Flavia could make out a straight line between the two leaning lines of the V, like the Greek letter psi.

At that moment, something rustled and flapped in the garden. Flavia glanced up and saw a large black and white bird sitting on a branch of the fig tree: a magpie. The bird turned its head and regarded her with one bright, intelligent eye.

In an instant, Flavia knew she was looking at the thief. She knew magpies loved glittering things. The bird had obviously stepped on the parchment before the ink had dried and then left its footprint.

Now she must discover where its nest was.

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