Small boys (whose mother would not thank them) were approaching with the aim of catching it. Chloe never liked men. She let them come within arm's reach, then fluffed up her feathers, hopped a yard in the other direction, and took off. Her tail flashed scarlet as she lifted. I joked, 'Better warn the local starlings they are likely to be mobbed!'
Helena was straining up to watch the parrot's flight. Chloe swooped in a defiant circle near her head.
'Marcus, can she live, if she's loose?'
'Oh that bird leads a charmed life.'
Chloe landed briefly. 'Chloe! Chloe!' Helena cried.
More desperate to catch her now someone else was interested too, the small boys lunged. Chloe slipped away from them, and fluttered to a rooftree far out of reach.
'Come down here and tell me who did it!' Helena screamed with frustration.
'Oh Cerinthus! Cerinthus! Cerinthus!' squawked Chloe obligingly.
Then we watched the parrot soar in ever-diminishing parabolas away into the hot blue Roman sky.
Chapter LX
There was nothing to gain by delaying any longer.
'Sweetheart! This job I do is stupid. You get knocked about; your house falls down; the most gorgeous woman you ever went to bed with is telling you she needs you; and yet off you go to round up villains-when you've just found out that the man the villains murdered is someone you would only have kept alive so you could murder him yourself.'
Shivering, I flung my black cloak round me. That reminded me; in my hat there were still my two cakes from Minnius, wrapped in his vine leaves so more or less free from dust. 'Take these; we'll eat them together at your father's house tonight,' I said, trying not to acknowledge Helena's painful need to stay close. 'Promise!'
She sighed. 'Father wants to see you anyway, now you're up and about.'
'It should cheer him up if I have to give you back to him!'
'We can talk about that,' Helena said; implying that there was nothing to discuss.
I banged my hat to shift some of the mortar dust, and rammed it on.
'You look like a messenger of vengeance! Anyone who sees you outlined in an archway will want to turn and run...'
'Good!' I said.
The dirt on my skin and in my hair was obsessing me; I sluiced off quickly at a bathouse while I laid my plans.
It was midafternoon. Enough of this mosaic now existed for me to feel confident that once I started to manipulate the tesserae, I could fill in the gaps by guesswork and good luck. I had to see Priscillus, the Hortensius women, and Severina Zotica. Cerinthus could be a false lead. But if I could discover where this Cerinthus hung out, I had to see him too.
I chose Appius Priscillus first, and at his house on the Janiculan. Fired by my new incentive, I chose well.
Tension cramped my guts at the thought of meeting the Phrygian bodyguards, but the Priscillus organisation had been stood down-off watch during the siesta. I knew from the disgusting brown sedan in the hall that Priscillus himself was there.
The first mistake his porter made was letting me in. The second was going off to tell his master a visitor had called, without noticing that the visitor was padding behind.
'Thanks!' I smiled at the porter, steering him out of the way as I went in. 'No need to introduce us-Appius Priscillus and I are old friends.'
I had a grudge against Priscillus, which was embellished with bitter envy once I entered the room.
It was a spacious study, with large pannelled doors folded back to give an amazing view across the Tiber towards Rome. In the hands of any competent designer, the effect would have been spectacular. Priscillus probably bought the house for its position, but then he completely wasted it. It was full of natural light-and nothing else but heavily sealed strongboxes. Priscillus begrudged the most basic sticks of furniture. He had confined himself to such dingy paint and fixtures that he managed to ruin everything; there should be a law against spoiling the potential of such a perfect spot.
I felt my nose wrinkling. Its glorious position made the house much more palatable than his business address on the Esquiline; but there was a sordid smell of neglect.
'The game's up, Priscillus. Time for you to leave Rome!'
Priscillus, the same rat-faced runt in what looked like exactly the same frowsty tunic, found his voice with a venomous wheeze. 'Don't waste my time, Falco!'
'Or you mine! I'm calling you to account for the murder of Novus.'
'You've nothing on me, Falco!'
'Oh no? What about your party gift-the excellent Falernian!
'There was nothing wrong with the Falernian,' Priscillus assured me a little too smugly.
'I'll go along with that!' I grinned. 'I tried a drop. A connoisseur might have said it overheated while it was standing in the dining room-but it was as smooth as I have ever drunk. On the whole best taken neat, however! The spices that came with it were a rather queer selection ...' He shot me a glance. 'Myself,' I said, 'I never take myrrh and cassia in a wine of real character. Too bitter. Though it's true that in an inferior vintage, myrrh will disguise a multitude of sins ..."
Enough said. I walked further into the room.
Priscillus started to run round under his fingernails with the pointed end of a stylus. 'What do you want, Falco?'
'Revenge, actually.'
'You'll be disappointed!'
'I don't think so.' My confidence was baffling him. He was too amazed even to send for reinforcements. I liked that. He was afraid I might have something on him so all I had to do was let him know I had. 'Priscillus, I know how Hortensius Novus was murdered. If it ever comes to court I'll be subpoenaed as a witness -'
'It won't.' He carried on digging out grime. Some of that silt probably found its way under his talons when he still had his milk teeth.
'Wrong. What I know is far too incriminating for Crepito and Felix to buy off the investigating praetor, however deeply he's in hock to Crepito.'
'How come you know so much?' Priscillus sneered.
'I found out while I was being hired to fend off the little gold-digger-'
'The girl did it!' he tried; a half-hearted attempt. 'She sat in this room, when she brought the invitation, and actually admitted that if she ever felt like disposing of an unwanted husband, she would poison him!'
'Novus was never her husband,' I responded logically. 'Useful though! Severina's presence must have seemed an ideal cover for the rest of you who wanted Novus dead. Don't think she didn't realise! I reckon her involvement was to come here and give you the idea. She set you up!
You were supposed to do it after they were married-but unluckily for her you couldn't wait.'
'What's your evidence?' Priscillus mooned morosely.