I would have liked to see the round-up, but I had the next-best thing. Petronius would tell me later about it. I went to dinner at his house. By the time I arrived, having gathered up my family, Pa was there as well. He had decided to move in and lumber Maia and Petro with his presence. The other friends of Posidonius were going back to Rome, their task done, or at least, rendered unnecessary by Theopompus" attackers. Maia looked momentarily flustered by the sudden influx. She was embarrassed because Privatus, who owned the house, was making one of his visits. She could hardly object if he wanted to inspect his new statue installation, the weeing Dionysus, now positioned on a new plinth in a garden pond, but although Privatus always assured them that they were welcome to treat the place as their own, and urged them to entertain as much as they liked, Maia shared my reluctance to be under too much obligation.
We could all go out to eat."
No, we won't," decided Pa. Let the builder give us a treat!" He had still not recovered from having a new bath house built. I was only surprised he did not immediately invite all of Posidonius" other friends to call in for refreshments before they hit the road. He would have done it, if he had thought of it. Winking at Maia, I went to talk to the contractor myself, as a polite gesture. All I could think of was to mention that I had been impressed by the display put on by the booted ranks in the Forum yesterday.
Why thanks, Falco! Our lads always give a good show." The man with the strands of hair raked over his bald patch positively preened. I had found him adjusting the pressure in his wine god's outlet pipe. He was wearing a particularly obnoxious tunic with a bad shine on the nap, and was obviously sneering at the less impressive display by the Rome vigiles; I was sorry I had volunteered to make friendly over tures. How's your search?" he enquired of me. You were telling me last time about your missing scribe?"
Still missing."
How does this look?" He was still fiddling with the fountain waterworks.
His kidneys are in fine fettle, but I'm inclined to say, the effect is a bit diuretic."
Has something terrible happened to him?"
Your Dionysus?, Oh, my scribe. It seems likely."
But you're no closer to solving it?" Privatus seemed very keen to point that out. Gritting my teeth, I found myself retaliating. By the way, is it some of your boot ranks who set up that phoney vigiles patrol house by the Temple of Hercules?" Privatus looked startled. Better tell them the game's up," I said gently. Brunnus may have been relaxed about it, but Marcus Rubella is very hot on scams. It's not just time for your boys to move on, Privatus, it's time to close their bribery shop down."
I don't think I like what you're saying, Falco."
I don't like it either," I commiserated. One thing I have found out about Diocles is that his aunt died in a house fire, needlessly. Apparently Diocles had gone for help to your fake group. All the local people know better of course, but he was from Rome. He must have really believed that if an alarm was raised, they would come running." Privatus was listening now. He was like a wound-up automaton, moving slightly from one foot to the other, full of pent energy, ready to dart into action. But there was nothing he could do. I carried on with the torment. Of course now I've recognised them as your boot-boys, it could raise the whole issue of the builders" role in fire-fighting…" Privatus assumed the utterly reasonable gaze which contractors use to delude complaining clients. I expected him to talk about suppliers having let him down despite incredible efforts on his part. Or to blame the weather.
What evidence do you have that we were to blame, Falco?"
Enough," I assured him. It's been a year now, hasn't it? And as you see, the affair of the scribe's aunt simply will not go away." I slapped him on the shoulder. Of course your guild is extremely powerful; I'm sure you can survive a negligence claim, should it happen. Though with Diocles missing, who is there to claim? But the Emperor may hear about what happened. He will be sent reports on how your guild operates… Did you know that the scribe's aunt was an imperial freedwoman?" Vestina's time at the Palace would have predated the current Flavian dynasty, but I failed to mention that. Privatus knew he must keep smiling. I had him on the run; I left him to squirm.
By the way, Privatus, I don't like the look of that outflow. I think your wine god needs a good doctor to squeeze his prostate." Privatus did not join us for dinner. Petronius came in after we had finished. While Maia produced a foodbowl she had kept for him, he told me that every Cilician with a name known to the vigiles was now residing in custody. It was quite a large number. Rubella was in his element processing them; Fusculus, still on duty, was deeply unhappy; soon, they would have to call in caterers to supply gruel for the prisoners, but there was little hope of Fusculus himself getting a meal tonight. Petro's chubby deputy already had a rumbling stomach.
I can see the logistics are not easy," I smiled. I bet Rubella himself has a three-course snack with a red wine chaser hidden in his office .. Did the Cilicians come quietly?" With a wry smile back, Petro nodded. They are all farmers nowadays, Marcus, my boy. Farmers are model citizens. You should know that. You're half rural."
Nothing odd about me. All good Romans have country cousins you included."
None of us can match you for the weirdness of the cousins, though." Petronius looked tired. He had had a long day, starting when he was called out to the saltpans. His skin looked stretched, his hair stuck up in untidy spikes, his eyes had a faraway stare. This did not seem the moment to confess that I had been taunting his landlord. He reached for wine, drinking fast, for numbness.
So who did you get?" I asked him. Who are the stars on your Cilician watch list?"
Cratidas, Lygon, Damagoras."
I thought the old fellow had no record?"
He does now. I put him on the list, after you discussed him."
Oh it's my fault! What about the negotiator, the so-called
Illyrian?"
We still don't know who he is. Rubella has to persuade a prisoner to tell him."
No chance. It would amount to a confession."
Quite." Petronius was so weary, he just stared into space. Maia reached over and took his winecup from him gently, knowing that any moment he would nod off and drop it. He was almost asleep, or he would have stopped her taking the cup. Maia drained what was left. He shook his fist vaguely; my sister captured his hand and held it. The fond couple. So long as one or other of them was too exhausted to fight, they would survive together. I sat for a moment, thinking about the Illyrian. I did not rate that tale he told the kidnap victims, that he was an outsider, a neutral intermediary. He always handled the ransom money; he must have an umbilical cord straight to the gang. Maybe he was the ringleader. He would have heard by now that all of the others had been rounded up. I wondered how he would react. There was nothing he could do, except lie low in whatever lair he frequented. But he must be questioning whether the vigiles had serious evidence or had just made a hopeful pass. He would realise that he himself had never been identified or he would be in a cell now. In this situation, some villains would flee. I reckoned the Illyrian's nerve would hold.
I keep wondering if it's a pseudonym for Florius," said Petro abruptly. He was so keen to capture this gangster of his, he saw Florius everywhere.
No, I reckon it's my long-lost tricky brother Festus, returned from the dead."
Festus!" Petro sat up in pretended horror. Now you're talking serious shit!" He slumped back, and we let him start nodding off again. Helena and I took our leave quietly. Helena, who was fond of Petronius, leaned over him and kissed his cheek; he smiled sleepily, acknowledging that he was too far gone to move. In the hallway, Maia was waiting with a bundle. You left this!" she accused me, drawing in her crimson skirts in distaste. It was Diocles' baggage. I had dumped the dirty laundry days beforehand, hoping that would be the last I saw of it. The house slaves had cleaned up the tunics, on the assumption that the garments belonged to their master; I peered at the results, but there was nothing I would be seen around town in. These looked like the clothes Diocles wore when he was disguising himself as some kind of labourer. There was a particularly vile slug coloured number. I told Maia she could give the lot to the slaves. Pa appeared. It was just like him to delay us at the wrong moment.
What did you think of old Fulvius?" he asked me. I yawned rudely. I thought we went through that."
What is he doing in Ostia?" Helena asked of Pa, as he held her cloak for her while she carried our sleeping daughter Favonia.
He came home. It's allowed, even if you're Fulvius."
And was that story true about him going to Pessinus but catching the wrong boat?"
The way he tells it now, he was just shipwrecked on the way."
So why ever was he going to Pessinus in the first place, Geminus? I looked it up, it's right in the middle of Phrygia!"
Attis syndrome," Pa replied, trying to be mysterious. Helena was unfazed. You mean Fulvius was a follower of the cult ofCybele?"
Well, Fulvius had a bit of a mixed-up personality…" In front of Helena, my father was now curiously shy. She glared until he told her what had always been rumoured about my uncle. Helena, this may shock you, we got used to it, but for a while, poor old Fulvius reckoned he wanted to be a woman."
Being one of my uncles," I said gently, he had to go the whole crazy way." Pa completed the story. He left home to go and see the experts at the shrine ofCybele about removal of a certain body part…"
Castration?" demanded Helena clinically. Pa blinked. I think he joined the navy instead."
That's hardly a solution to his problem!"
You don't know sailors, sweetheart."
No? What happened to the legend that sailors have wives in every port?"
They miss their wives when they are at sea." Helena shook her head at Pa reprovingly. So is Fulvius happy now?"
Happy?" Pa and I looked at each other. Fulvius will never be happy," I told Helena. If he had succeeded in getting to Pessinus and cutting off his implement, for him it would only have been another problem."
He would have spent the rest of his life regretting that he snipped his stick," Pa agreed with me. Helena calmly wrapped the end of her cloak around the child in her arms and let the conversation drop. Helena and I set off back to our apartment. The outer wall of Privatus" house still had my ropes and cleaning material beside it from when I was on watch. That would never have happened in Rome. I retrieved my bucket. At the old town gate, there were no lights in the upper room. I had forgotten to ask Petronius whether the woman who guarded the kidnap victims during their ordeal, Pullia, had been pulled in along with her lover Lygon. And if so, what had happened to the seven year-old we met that day, the lad Zeno? We had arrived at the right moment to find out. Fusculus and a couple of his men clattered down to street level. They had taken in Pullia earlier, and had just finished searching the gatehouse.
We found a load of drugs," said Fusculus, gesturing to a basketful of glass phials now being removed. Opium poppy, I reckon."
So tomorrow we can expect to see the vigiles staggering about the streets, blissfully comatose?" Fusculus grinned in his happy way. You want to volunteer to test the extracts?"
No, he doesn't," said Helena. But if none of the kidnap victims will testify, don't forget Marcus and Lucius Petronius once saw Pullia herself insensible after she had sampled the sleeping draught."
Looks as if the woman is the only one we can snare with evidence," Fusculus told us. Rubella thinks he may have to release the males." Helena was angry. A whole gang of men are terrorising victims, raping teenagers, extorting and killing, but you will hold only their female assistant!" As she stormed off growling, one of the vigiles let out a shout from the interior of the gatehouse. A small figure scuttled out, ducked around Fusculus, and hared off up the road. It was Zeno. No one made much attempt to catch him, and he legged it out of sight.