Imperium

among the sweetest—especially considering that technically it was not a victory at all but a defeat. He selected the evidence he needed to take back to Rome, and Lucius, Frugi, Sositheus, Laurea, and I each carried a box of documents down to the Syracusan forum, where Metellus had set up his tribunal. An immense throng of people had already gathered. Carpinatius was sitting waiting for us. He fancied himself as quite a lawyer and presented his own case, quoting all the relevant statutes and precedents establishing that tax records could not be removed from a province, and generally gave the impression that he was merely the humble victim of an overmighty senator. Cicero hung his head and put on such a mime of dejection I found it hard to keep a straight face. When at last he got to his feet he apologized for his actions, conceded he was wrong in law, begged forgiveness from the governor, promised gladly to return the documents to Carpinatius, but—he paused— but there was one small point he did not understand, which he would be very grateful to have cleared up first. He picked up one of the wax tablets and studied it in bafflement. “Who exactly is Gaius Verrucius?”
    Carpinatius, who had been smiling happily, looked like a man struck in the chest by an arrow fired from very short range, while Cicero, in a puzzled manner, as if it were all a mystery far beyond his comprehension, pointed out the coincidence of names, dates, and sums in the tax company’s records and the claims of bribery compiled by the Syracusan senate.
    “And there is another thing,” said Cicero pleasantly. “This gentleman, who did so much business with you, does not appear in your accounts before his near-namesake, Gaius Verres, came to Sicily, and he has not done any business with you since Gaius Verres left. But in those three years when Verres was here, he was your biggest client.” He showed the accounts to the crowd. “And it is unfortunate—do you see?—that whenever the slave who wrote up your records came to put down his name he always made the same slip of his stylus. But there we are. I am sure there is nothing suspicious about it. So perhaps you could simply tell the court who this Verrucius is, and where he can be found.”
    Carpinatius looked helplessly toward Metellus as someone in the crowd shouted, “He does not exist!” “There never was anyone in Sicily called Verrucius!” yelled another. “It is Verres!” And the crowd started chanting: “It is Verres! It is Verres!”
    Cicero held up his hand for silence. “Carpinatius insists I cannot remove these records from the province, and I concede in law he is correct. But nowhere in law does it say I cannot make a copy, as long as it is fair and properly witnessed. All I need is help. Who here will help me copy these records so that I can take them back to Rome and bring this swine Verres to justice for his crimes against the people of Sicily?”
    A plantation of hands sprang up. Metellus tried to call for silence, but his words were lost in the din of people shouting their support. Cicero, with Flavius to help him, picked out all the most eminent men in the city—Sicilian and Roman alike—and invited them to come forward and take a share of the evidence, whereupon I handed each volunteer a tablet and stylus. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Carpinatius frantically struggling across to Metellus, who, with his arms folded, scowled down from his raised bench at the chaos in his court. Eventually he turned and strode angrily up the steps and into the temple behind him.
    Thus ended Cicero’s visit to Sicily. Metellus, I am sure, would dearly have liked to have arrested Cicero, or at least prevented him from removing evidence. But Cicero had won over too many adherents in both the Roman and the Sicilian communities. To have seized him would have caused an insurrection, and as Metellus had conceded, he did not have the troops to control the entire population. By the end of that afternoon, the copies of the tax company’s records had been witnessed, sealed, and transferred to our guarded ship in the harbor, where they joined the other trunks of evidence. Cicero himself remained only one more night on the island, drawing up the list of witnesses he wished to bring to Rome. Lucius and Frugi agreed to remain behind in Syracuse to arrange their transportation.
    The following morning they came down to the dock to see Cicero off. The harbor was packed with