INCEPTIO (Roma Nova)

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INCEPTIO (Roma Nova) Page 16

by Alison Morton


  ‘Nonna.’

  She embraced me, tears threatening to ambush both of us. Pulling away, she didn’t say anything but studied my face. She smiled, like she was satisfied, or she recognised something. For the first time in my life, I knew I was in the right place.

  ‘You look wonderful, darling,’ she said. ‘Outstanding.’

  ‘I’ve learnt a whole lot about myself, Nonna. And how to stand my ground. I’m never going to be a victim again.’

  I spent the next few weeks shadowing Nonna. I was flattered she included me in her advisory work and asked for my views. I realised that I was now looking at the world in a different way. Like my mind had been re-booted along with my body.

  Inevitably, we saw Imperatrix Silvia again, but what a contrast to the previous time: she was more relaxed, I was more confident. I hadn’t noticed before how dry her remarks were, or her sense of gallows humour as she discussed tangled issues with Nonna. She questioned me in some depth about what I had achieved at my training camp.

  ‘You must build on this, Carina. Have you ever considered working in one of the military or police services? You’d be ideal for the PGSF. Another Aurelia.’ She smiled over at Nonna.

  No way.

  ‘I don’t think I’d fit in very well. Perhaps I could be a consultant of some sort, but that sounds pretty boring as well.’

  She laughed at my lame reply and bantered some more, but I saw something in her eyes that meant her brain was whirring away. Silvia projected a good sense of fun but, in the car driving back, Nonna said she never let it interfere with her duty. Or her resolve.

  Felix had provided me with the name of a training gym run by an ex-champion gladiator called Mossia Antonia. With a membership ranging from the prominent and powerful to anybody who could pay the fees, they insisted on noms de guerre for all members. If you recognised somebody, you had to act as if you didn’t know them. Weird, but that was the price of membership. I registered there under the name of Bruna. Their strenuous programmes with no quarter given left me breathless and my muscles drained, but I loved it and spent at least an hour of every day there.

  I decided to visit my businesses in person; I’d left them to fend for themselves for three months. I didn’t mistrust the managers, but it never hurt to do a little mystery shopping.

  I wore a long, dark brown, curly wig, black skirt and leather boots, a dark red, roll-neck sweater and black leather jacket. I applied dark eye make-up and bright red lipstick. I disguised myself, not only so they didn’t recognise me, but because it appealed to my sense of the dramatic. I had no idea just how dramatic it would prove to be.

  In a bar off the Via Nova, I sipped a glass of dry white and watched carefully. Nine tables toward the front of the bar by the picture window were occupied. Everybody had a drink in front of them, some were eating. I was pleased that no client was left more than a minute or two before a server approached them. Meals were brought promptly, and the place looked fresh and clean. I heard a few foreign accents; the tourist season was starting. The bar counter, cut from one piece of grey and blue veined marble, ran almost the whole length of the bar, only stopping where a door hung with a beaded curtain led through to the back. Standing at the far open end of the counter was Dania, my protégée, looking content with life. I wasn’t sure about the blonde hair, but the smile on her face and in her brown eyes was genuine.

  I was about to go over to her, reveal myself and crack a joke, when two men in their early twenties came in. One looked friendly enough, an open jokey face, the other quieter. Totally relaxed, they sauntered up to Dania but, when they reached her, they corralled her between them so intimately their clothes touched hers. She glanced around, looking every which way like she was searching for a way to escape. But she didn’t attempt to push them away. What was going on? I concentrated on tuning out the other voices and tried to catch their conversation. I couldn’t hear all of it, but I worked out they weren’t collecting for the Christmas Club.

  I shucked off my leather jacket, leaving it on the back of my chair, stood up and made my way to the door leading to the facilities. The jokey one moved aside for me, his eyes roving up and down my body as I passed. When his hand ran over my rear and pinched it, I reacted instantly. He was on the floor behind the counter in seconds, my boot heel on his wrist. I shifted my full weight onto that foot to prove the point. The diamond-sharp carbon fibre knife in my hand pointing at his face discouraged any further movement.

  I held the flat of my other hand out to the quiet one and said, ‘Don’t even try.’ He caught on quickly and remained still.

  ‘Okay, Dania, you go talk to your customers. I’ll take it from here.’

  Her mouth opened, she hesitated and looked at me. But she didn’t ask the question. She placed a hand on the counter for a few moments to steady herself; then hastened away with only one glance back.

  I looked at the quiet one and pointed to a booth in the back corner. ‘You go sit down at that table and stay there. No calls, no signals. Got it?’

  He nodded.

  The other one’s face was streaming with tears; I hoped he was in agony. I stepped back and he struggled up.

  ‘Fuck you, you little tart.’ His jokey face was screwed up in anger.

  ‘Nah, that’s the point,’ I said in a nasal voice. I was starting to enjoy this. ‘You be a good boy and go sit with your friend. Go.’

  Rocking on the balls of his feet, he hesitated for a few seconds.

  ‘Unless you would like me to mark your pretty face.’

  He sat. I joined them, but kept my blade in their sight.

  ‘Now, gentlemen. What seems to be the problem, apart from laughing boy here’s wandering fingers?’

  Predictably, they exchanged glances.

  Under the table, I stamped on laughing boy’s instep. It wasn’t fair, but the quiet one looked too self-contained. Laughing boy would give sooner.

  ‘You little bitch!’ He went to reach inside, but I already knew he had no concealed weapon from the fall of his clothes and his gait.

  ‘Oh dear, forget your popgun, did you, dear?’

  ‘What’s it to you, anyway?’ said the quiet one, trying to shift his weight. Was he thinking of attacking me?

  ‘I’m not happy when I see my colleagues being threatened. So enlighten me.’

  ‘We’re collecting dues.’

  ‘Yes? And what dues would they be?’

  ‘Insurance.’

  I laughed. Life was so like the movies.

  ‘You go back to your principal and tell her, or him, that none of my businesses pay protection money to anybody. And if any kind of accident or fire occurs, or if business drops off significantly in the very near future, I’ll hunt you, and them, down like the scum you are. Clear?’

  They nodded.

  ‘Now piss off out of here.’ I stood up, hands on hips, and watched them as they left. I walked back to the bar, sat on a tall stool and ordered another glass of dry white wine. I was perfectly calm, but inside I glowed with satisfaction. Dania served me herself, her fingers trembling.

  ‘Hello, Dania.’ I held my hand out and smiled in my old way.

  ‘Venus save us! Is that you, really?’ Her eyes were wide and her mouth not far behind. She scoured my face with her gaze, and then relaxed. ‘I’d never have recognised you.’

  ‘I’ve been away. How long have they been bothering you?’

  She looked down at the counter then scanned the open area. ‘This is the second time. They’re not violent; they don’t smash anything or openly frighten the clients. But they scare me.’

  ‘I’ve sent them home with a message. I expect they’ll be back but, with any luck, they’ll bring their boss with them.’

  She looked at me as if I was insane.

  ‘I’ll stay here until they come. Can you put me up?’

  She looked a little embarrassed.

  ‘Problem?’ I knew from the plan she’d submitted for the finance application that the building went ba
ck a long way, almost the whole block, so probably at least half a dozen rooms. Maybe she was letting them out as holiday accommodation.

  She didn’t answer my question immediately; one of the staff had an urgent query that needed her attention. I was phoning home to let them know I may not be there for a few days when I noticed a man pay at the till, but didn’t get a drink. Instead, he took a receipt, some kind of token, a keycard, then walked through the opening at the end of the bar counter, toward the facilities. I saw him disappear upstairs.

  ‘Expanding your income possibilities, Dania?’ I chuckled at her confusion when she came back. ‘I don’t really mind, you know, as long as you have the health checks and licences. Can you find somewhere for me?’

  ‘Of course I can, if you don’t mind sharing with me.’

  I spent the next day going through Dania’s accounts; they looked healthy. She gave me an insight into the tax system as experienced by the sole trader, which I found illuminating. Midway through the afternoon, we were downstairs discussing inventory when the fun restarted. Laughing boy and the quiet one came in, the drape of their coats betraying concealed weapons. Dania and I watched the quiet one turn the door notice to ‘Closed’ and usher the two remaining customers out. Dania started getting up, but I laid my hand on her arm and shook my head. Laughing boy stood in the doorway, scanned the room and, satisfied, gave way to a tall figure, dressed in black. He strolled in, looking around to discover what problem there could possibly be in such a place. His black eyes took us in during his sweep and, flicking over Dania, fixed on me. I stared back, willing him to drop his gaze. There was no way I would. I was one of Felix’s graduates and could play mind games all day.

  Eventually, he broke, sat down and said, ‘Wine,’ in a commanding but soft voice.

  Dania moved to obey, but I grabbed her arm so she couldn’t.

  He looked up, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Say “please”,’ I said.

  He was incredulous.

  I held on to Dania’s arm. He and I remained locked in a staring contest.

  He waved his hand in a bored, over-elaborate gesture. ‘Very well. Wine, please.’

  I nodded to Dania and she scuttled to the chiller, fetched a bottle and glass and delivered it to the table in record time. She managed to open it without spilling any, but her hand trembled as she poured. She retreated to the safety of the counter. I couldn’t blame her. He was a frightening man; he sat totally relaxed, confident of his own power and ability to intimidate.

  ‘Won’t you join me?’

  I took the chair opposite him, but moved it so his body shielded me from his heavies. A smile flickered over his lips.

  ‘Do I have the honour of talking to the owner of this bar?’

  ‘In a financial sense, yes.’

  ‘I understand you are reluctant to take out an insurance policy with us?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, have I received an incorrect message?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Really, my dear, you are a very difficult person to hold a conversation with.’

  I said nothing.

  His fingers tapped arrhythmically on Dania’s shiny blue table.

  ‘Are you trying to get yourself killed? I do hope not – it would be such a waste.’ He appraised me slowly, like I was a piece of prime horseflesh.

  I chuckled and leaned back in my chair, my left hand relaxed, hanging by my side.

  ‘Gods, woman, have you no sense of self-preservation?’

  ‘Yes, plenty.’

  He rose in his seat, leaned over me and found a carbon fibre knife on his jugular. I didn’t scratch his skin, just pressed firmly so he couldn’t misinterpret my message. Laughing boy shot forward but seconds later he clutched his hand and cried out. Another knife had flown out of my right hand, and now grew out of the back of his left.

  I stared into the black eyes that were as close to me as a lover’s.

  ‘Sit down,’ I commanded, ‘and, you two, back to the door.’

  I stood tall in front of my opponent, legs braced. I kept my voice level, but chill.

  ‘Firstly, I am not reluctant to pay protection money. I refuse to. Secondly, my message was clear. If you didn’t get it, I suggest your messenger boys need remedial training.’ I sighed. ‘But perhaps their knuckles dragging too near the ground indicate they’re unlikely to absorb or benefit from it. Thirdly, I don’t have a death wish but, on the contrary, a very strong sense of self-preservation. Try to remember that fact.’

  I sheathed my knife, picked up the bottle of wine and glass and placed them on the counter. ‘I think we’re done here. Please consider yourselves banned from the premises. With no likelihood of any change in the future.’ I strode to the street door and pulled it open, letting in the fresh air. I seized laughing boy’s wrist and pulled my knife out, wiping the blade on his pale coat. He turned white. His knees buckled, and the quiet one grabbed him as he collapsed.

  The black-eyed man clapped his hands together in slow applause. ‘Bravo,’ he said. His eyes fixed on mine as he walked the length of the bar toward the open door. As he passed me on his way out, he said, ‘You play a dangerous game, my dear, but I give you my respect.’

  He bowed and was gone.

  I drank a generous mouthful of the wine that Dania pressed on me. ‘So who is the black-eyed man? He has quite a presence, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Are you insane? That’s Apollodorus. I almost died when I saw it was him.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘He runs this area. They’re all petrified of him.’

  ‘Maybe so, but he doesn’t run this bar.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not now.’ She looked at me, doubt written all over her face. ‘You really think he won’t come back?’

  ‘No. I’ve banned him.’ I smirked.

  ‘Venus save us. You know something? You’re just as scary as he is.’

  I gave Dania my cell phone number and resolved to check out my other businesses. As I put my jacket on to go, I turned to her and said, ‘One last thing, Dania. If they want to know my name, tell them it’s Pulcheria.’

  XLI

  When I reached home that afternoon, I changed into jeans and tee and cleaned my face. Over supper with Nonna, I told her about my adventure.

  ‘Have I gone too far, do you think?’ I asked her.

  ‘No. Not at all. I’m impressed, Carina, and proud of you for having the courage to act so firmly. Juno alone knows there are plenty of other things to bother about without adding in petty extortion.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She hesitated, looked down at her plate, then back at me. ‘It something Silvia’s worried about; Conradus also mentioned it when he came to see me yesterday.’

  Those two names in the same sentence jolted me.

  ‘Sorry to go off at an angle, but when does Conradus visit? When did this start?’

  ‘He’s been dropping by once a week or so while you’ve been away. I didn’t say where you were or what you were doing.’ She played with her ring. ‘I’ve known him almost all of his life. I’ve supported and defended him when he needed somebody on his side.’ She smiled, looking down at the table. ‘I’ve paid the odd debt for him.’ She brought the knife and fork together on her plate. ‘Now you’re back, he’ll probably stop. I hope not. He made a grave error of judgement not telling you about the children, but he’s desperate not to hurt you, Carina.’ She touched my cheek with the back of her fingers – his favourite gesture. I swallowed nothing in particular.

  ‘I had hoped the two of you would form some kind of permanent attachment…’

  I opened my lips to reply.

  ‘…but I see it’s not the right time.’

  I ate my dessert in silence.

  We sat in the atrium later, darkness taking over from the day, Nonna pensive, me swallowing my regret.

  ‘So what’s the problem that’s causing everybody grief?’

  ‘Addictive drugs. We’ve
kept it down to what’s considered an acceptable level.’ She flicked the cover of her folder. ‘It’s never acceptable, of course, but sentences are harsh for dealing. The gods know that Health runs effective clinics and Social tries to pinch it out early, but we’ll never eliminate it entirely. Every time the odd tourist gets caught smuggling in a personal supply, we maximise publicity on how severely we deal with it.’ Her eyebrows pulled together in a frown. ‘But, now, significant quantities, and I mean hundreds of kilograms, are coming through and getting onto the streets.’

  No. That couldn’t be happening here. It was too horrifying. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I had seen the despair and damage done to people through their addictions when I lived in the EUS. You only had to look at any street corner or alley. Or the rich kids, like that little jerk Hartenwyck, trying to outdo each other at parties and ending up on the morgue slab.

  ‘But haven’t the police, the custodes, I mean, got this?’ I said. ‘They have a vice squad, surely?’

  ‘Unfortunately, they’ve discovered a corruption problem there. Seizures disappearing, leads being ignored. Even the PGSF is having a problem with it.’

  ‘Why on earth have they been called in? They’re special forces, spooks, aren’t they?’

  ‘Because it’s been designated as a threat against the state, their intelligence and operations people are supporting the DJ.’

  ‘DJ, the Department of Justice, run the police, right?’

  She nodded.

  ‘So they must have an internal affairs department?’

  She sighed.

  ‘Okay, Nonna, am I reinventing the wheel here?’

  ‘Not at all, darling. The main problem is who to trust. These drug pushers have certainly done their research. The potential income in an underexploited market like Roma Nova makes it very worthwhile for them. The big problem for the law and security services is that all the serving personnel seem to be known to these criminals.’

 

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