'Is she attractive?' Tullia forced herself to ask me as we hurried down into the dark little street.
'Money always is.' Pausing to check for observers, I asked nonchalantly, 'What was his attraction-good in bed?'
Tullia laughed derisively. I took a deep, happy breath.
Safely in the gloom of the wineshop, I grasped the girl by her shoulders. 'If you decide to ask him about this, make damn sure you have your mother with you!' Tullia was staring at the ground stubbornly. She probably knew already that he could be violent. 'Listen, he'll tell you he has a reason for that document-'
Abruptly she looked up. 'Getting the money he talks about?'
'Princess, all Barnabas can ever get now is a freedman's grave.' She might not believe me, but at least she was listening. 'He will tell you he was married to this woman once, and needs her help to acquire a large legacy. Don't fool yourself; if he ever gets the legacy, there's no future for you!' The barmaid's eyes took on an angry glint. 'Tullia, he already has an Imperial posse tailing him-and he's rapidly running out of time.'
'Why, Falco?'
'Because according to the Encouragement of Matrimony laws, a woman who stays single more than eighteen months after divorce cannot receive legacies! If he wants to inherit anything using his ex-wife, he'll have to move fast.'
'So when were they divorced?' Tullia demanded.
'No idea. Your friend with his eyes on the cash was the husband; better ask him!'
Having laid my bait, I nodded farewell and pushed through the brawny clientele to the outer door. Outside, two customers had come across my abandoned flagon and promptly tucked in. I was all set to express my indignation when I noticed who they were. At the same moment the two freebooters, who were Anacrites' watchdogs, recognized me.
I backed indoors, gestured expressively to Tullia, then barged through the crush and opened the door she had used to let me out when I had been there before.
Ten seconds later the spies burst indoors after me. They stared round wildly, then spotted the open door. The paviours parted tolerantly to let them run over there, then closed once more into an impenetrable pack.
I hopped up from behind the counter, waved at Tullia, and skipped out the front way: the oldest dodge in the world.
I made sure I disappeared by a route that would avoid spy number three if he was back in the main street.