'I must have somehow forgotten to ask him!' Lenia grinned.
Helena Justina had been over at her parents' house and had missed the furore. When she came home shortly after me, I explained what had happened, trying to put an acceptable gloss on it. Helena could tell when I was disguising a crisis. She said nothing. I watched her tussle with her emotions, then she dumped the baby in my arms and briefly put her arms around both of us. Since I was bigger, I was the one who received the kiss.
She had bustled off, busying herself while she came to terms with the problem, when we heard a tremendous racket outside in Fountain Court. I was on my feet before I remembered not to react too sharply in case Helena noticed my nervousness; in fact she was out on the porch ahead of me. Across the road Lenia, watched by a jeering group of her staff, was giving a foully obscene mouthful to none other than the jaunty Balbina Milvia.
When the girl saw us, she scuttled straight across. I waved to Lenia to let me handle it, and curtly nodded to Milvia to come up. We wheeled her into what passed for our ornamental salon and sat her down while we stood.
'Oh, what a pretty baby!' she gurgled, immune to hostility.
'Helena Justina, take the baby to another room. I'll not have my daughter contaminated by street grime.'
'Falco, that's a terrible thing to say,' squeaked Milvia. Helena, set-faced, simply carried Julia off to her cradle. I waited for her return. Milvia stared at me, owl-eyed.
When Helena re-entered she looked even more angry than I was. 'If you came here to see Petronius Longus, don't waste your time, Milvia.' I had rarely heard Helena so contemptuous. 'He was badly beaten up this morning and has been taken to a safe house away from your family.'
'No! Is Petronius hurt? Who did it?'
'A rabble sent by your husband,' Helena explained coldly. Milvia seemed not to take this in so I added, 'Florius, in a touchy mood. This is your fault, Milvia.'
'Florius wouldn't -'
'Florius just did. How does he know what's going on? Did you tell him?'
Milvia faltered for once. She even blushed slightly. 'I think it must have been Mother who mentioned it.'
I bit back an oath. This was why Rubella had been forced to suspend Petro; Flaccida was too dangerous, and it was her life's work to cause trouble for the vigiles. 'Well, that was a bad day's work.'
'I'm glad Florius knows!' cried Milvia defiantly. 'I want -' 'What I am sure you don't want,' Helena cut in, 'is to destroy Petronius Longus. He is already seriously injured. Face facts, Milvia. This can only make him consider what it is he wants. I can tell you the answer to that: Petronius wants his job back, and as a loving father he wants to be able to see his children again.' I noticed that she had not mentioned his wife.
Milvia looked at us. She was hoping to find out where he was; she realised we were not intending to say. Used only to handing out orders, she was stuck.
'Give Florius a message from me,' I told her. 'He made a mistake today. He had two free citizens beaten up, in my case without lasting effects but it happened in front of witnesses. So I have an aedile, a judge, and two senior centurions who will support me if I take Florius to court.' Helena looked startled. I could not afford litigation; I would resent wasting my money, too. Still, Florius was not to know that. And as an informer I often did court work; at the Basilica there were barristers who owed me a few favours. I meant it when I told Milvia, 'Your husband will come unstuck if I raise a compensation claim. Tell him if he bothers either Petronius or me again, I shall have no hesitation.'
Milvia had been brought up by gangsters. Although she pretended to know nothing about her background, she must have noticed that her relatives lived in a world that thrived on secrecy. The publicity of a court case was something her father had always shunned (at least until the case where Petronius had had him arraigned). Her husband was a novice in crime, but he lived obscurely too. He gambled, an activity based on hints and bluff, and was now involved with rack-rents; that relied on heavy threat, not open writs.
'Florius won't listen to me.'
'You'll have to make him,' snapped Helena. 'Otherwise it won't only be his name that is spread all over the Daily Gazette. You'll be there among the scandals too. You can kiss goodbye to the last threads of respectability attaching to your family. All Rome will know.'
'But I haven't done anything!'
'That's the whole point of the Daily Gazette,' smiled Helena serenely. Trust a senator's daughter to know how to crush an upstart. There is nothing more ruthless than a born patrician lady wiping out a new man's wife. 'Forget the corn supply schedules, Senate rulings, articles on the Imperial family, Games and Circuses, portents and miracles. What Romans want to read about are people who claim they never did anything wrong having their love affairs exposed!'
Milvia was still little more than twenty – not yet sufficiently hard-faced to brave it out. She would be. But with luck, Petronius had met her before she learned to be bad with courage. Helpless, but like a true flighty bit, she changed the subject petulantly. 'Anyway, I came about something else.'
'Don't annoy me,' I said.
'I wanted to beg Petronius to help.'
'Well, whatever it is, your husband has prevented that.' 'But it's important!'
'Tough. Petro's unconscious – and he's fed up with you anyway.'
'What is it?' Helena asked her, having noticed an edge of genuine hysteria. I had noticed it too, but I didn't care.
Milvia was on the verge of tears. A poignant effect. Petronius would probably have fallen for it, were he not laid up. It didn't impress me. 'Oh, Falco, I don't know what to do. I'm so worried.'
'Tell us what it is then.' Helena's eyes had a glorious glint that meant any minute she would lose her patience and dot Milvia with a dish of marinading celery hearts. I was eager to see it, yet I preferred the idea of eating them. With any luck Ma had brought these for us; if they came from our family market garden on the Campagna, they would be flavoursome specimens.
'I wanted to ask Petronius, but if he's not here, then you'll have to help me, Falco -'
'Falco is very busy,' Helena responded crisply, in the role of my able assistant.
Milvia cantered on, undeterred: 'Yes, but this might be connected with what he's helping Petronius to work on -' The celery hearts were in danger again, but I was in luck. Balbina Milvia's next words gave Helena pause. In fact she silenced both of us. 'My mother has vanished. She hasn't been home for two days and I can't find her anywhere. She went to the Games and never came home. I think she's been captured by that man who cuts up women and puts them in the aqueducts!'
Before Helena could stop me I heard myself replying cruelly that if it were true then the bastard had appalling taste.
XLIV
I was ready to despatch the desolate Milvia with even more harsh words, but we were interrupted by Julius Frontinus on one of his regular check-up visits. He patiently signalled that I should carry on. I explained to him briefly that the girl thought her missing mother might have been seized by our killer, and that she was begging our help. He probably deduced that I didn't believe the piteous tale, even before I muttered, 'One problem in a situation like this is that it gives people ideas. Every woman who stays out an hour longer than usual at market is liable to be put down as the next victim.'
'And the danger is that the real victims will be overlooked?' It was a long time since I had been employed by an intelligent client.
Helena tackled the girl. 'When members of families disappear, Milvia, the reasons tend to be domestic. In my experience things get touchy when a forceful widow comes to live with her in-laws. Have you had any family arguments recently?'
'Certainly not!'
'That seems rather unusual,' Frontinus commented, uninvited. I had forgotten that to reach his consulship he would first have held senior legal positions; he was used to interrupting evidence with scathing quips.
'Balbina Milvia,' I said, 'this is Julius Frontinus, the illustrious ex-Consul. I seriously advis
e you not to lie to him.'
She blinked. I had no doubt that her father had inveigled fairly senior members of the establishment to dine with him – drinking, gorging, accepting gifts and the attentions of dancing girls, or boys: what top-notch power-brokers call hospitality, though the spoilsport public tends to view it as bribery. A consul might be something new.
'Have there been any disagreements in your home?' repeated Frontinus coolly.
'Well – possibly.'
'Concerning what?'
Concerning Petronius Longus, I was prepared to bet. Flaccida was bound to have taken Milvia to task for canoodling with a member of a vigiles enquiry team. Then Flaccida had her fun passing on the news to Florius. Florius for his part might well blame Flaccida for the daughter's infidelity, either because he imagined she was condoning it or at least for bringing the girl up badly. There must have been a hurricane of bad feeling in that household.
Helena smiled at Frontinus. 'In case you feel you may have missed something, sir, I should explain we're dealing with a major hub of organised crime.'
'Something else that could benefit from a commission of enquiry,' I teased him.
'One thing at a time, Falco,' said the Consul, unabashed. I gazed at Milvia. 'If you really think your mother may be dead, you don't seem very upset.'
'I am hiding my grief bravely.'
'How stoical!' Perhaps she was thinking that she would become even richer if Mama had been despatched. Perhaps that was why she was so eager to know for sure.
Frontinus banged a finger on the table, grabbing the girl's attention. 'If your mother has been taken by the villain we are chasing, we shall pursue the matter with vigour. But if she has just gone to stay with a friend as the result of a tiff, you should not impede my enquiry with a trivial complaint. Now answer me: has there been such a tiff?'
'There may have been.' Milvia squirmed and stared at the floor. I had seen naughty schoolgirls wriggle more efficiently. But Milvia had never been to school. Gangsters' children don't mix well, and their loving parents don't want them to pick up nasty habits, let alone moral standards. Education had been lavished on Milvia through a series of tutors, presumably terrified ones. There was not much to show for their efforts. No doubt they took the money, bought a few sets of Livy to leave around the schoolroom, then spent the rest of the equipment budget on pornographic scrolls for themselves.
'Was this trouble between your mother and you? Or was your husband involved?' If Petronius failed me as a partner, I could do worse than let the ex-Consul take his place. He soon got his teeth into an interrogation, and appeared to be enjoying it. What a pity he was going to govern Britain. A real waste of talent.
Milvia wrung her expensive skirts between her heavily beringed little fingers. 'Mother and Florius did have a bit of a scene the other day.'
Frontinus looked down his nose. 'A scene?'
'Well, rather a terrible argument.'
'About what?'
'Oh… just a man I had been friendly with.'
'Well!' Frontinus sat up, like a judge who wanted to go home to lunch. 'Young woman, I have to warn you that your domestic situation is serious. If a man discovers that his wife has committed adultery, he is legally bound to divorce her.'
One thing that must have been drilled into Milvia was that, in order to hold on to her father's money, she and Florius must never part. She was no wide-eyed idealist ready to sacrifice her cash for the sake of true love with Petro. Milvia was too fond of her caskets of hard gemstones and her fine quality silver tableware. Blinking like a shy rabbit, she quavered, 'Divorce?'
Frontinus had noticed her hesitance. 'Otherwise the husband can be taken to court on a charge of acting as a pimp. Allowing a Roman matron to be dishonoured is something we don't tolerate – I assume you realise that if your husband actually catches you in bed with another man, he is entitled to draw a sword and kill you both?'
All this was true. It would ruin Florius. He was hardly going to run his wife and Petro through in the proper fit of maddened rage, and subjected to the ancient scandal laws about pimping he would become a laughing stock. 'I like the Consul's sense of humour,' I said openly to Helena.
She feigned disapproval. 'His sense of justice, you mean, Marcus Didius.'
'I prefer not to be the agent of marital disharmony,' Julius Frontinus told Milvia kindly. He was a tough old shoot. He had dealt with dim girlikins before. He could see beyond their glimmering silks and wide painted eyes, to just how dangerous they were. 'I shall overlook what I have heard today. I can see that you wish to preserve your marriage, so you will obviously end your affair with all speed. And we all say, very good luck to you!'
Milvia was stunned. Her extortionist family owned a battery of tame lawyers who were famously good at discovering outmoded statutes with which to hammer the innocent. It was something new to find herself the victim of antique legislation, let alone to be subjected to delicate blackmail by a high-ranking senator.
Frontinus seemed so sympathetic she must have wanted to squeal. 'As for your missing mother, you are clearly desolate without her. You must make every effort to discover whether she has taken refuge with a friend or relative. Falco will conduct enquiries on your behalf if time permits, but unless you produce proof that your mother has been abducted this is a private affair. There could be many other explanations. Though if a crime is thought to have been committed, surely that is a matter for the vigiles?'
'Oh, I can't go to them.'
Frontinus looked at me. 'They might not be very sympathetic, sir. They spend a great deal of time investigating crookery in which the missing woman is heavily involved. Flaccida will not be their favourite maiden in distress.'
'I need help,' Milvia wailed.
'Hire an informer then,' said Helena.
Milvia opened her rosebud mouth to wail that that was why she had come to me, then she registered the word 'hire'. A fee would not, of course, have been levied by Petronius. Do I have to pay you, Falco?'
'It is considered polite,' answered Helena. She did my accounts.
'Well, of course then,' pouted Milvia.
'In advance,' said Helena.
Frontinus looked amused. For our work on his formal enquiry, we were letting him pay in arrears.
XLV
His illustriousness was not best pleased when I informed him later that he had lost half his team on sick leave. The way I told it, Petronius Longus, that selfless scourge of organised crime, had been attacked by a gang in retaliation for putting away the criminal Balbinus Pius. If, before he employed us, Frontinus had already been briefed on Petro's suspension from the vigiles, he would soon understand the connection with Milvia. I wasn't going to tell him unless he asked.
'Let us hope he recovers quickly. And how do you feel about carrying on alone, Falco?'
'I'm used to working solo, sir. Petronius should soon be back on his feet.'
'Not soon enough,' the Consul warned. 'I have just received a message brought by a very excited public slave.'
Then he came out with the real reason for his visit: there was news at last from Bolanus. Far from abandoning the case as I had been beginning to suspect, the engineer's assistant had been busy. He had stuck with his personal theory that the aqueducts which came to Rome from Tibur were the ones to investigate. He had organised systematic inspections of all their water towers and settling tanks, right out across the Campagna. Eventually his men extracted more human remains, a major find we were told – several arms and legs, in various stages of decomposition – near the inlets above Tibur.
Julius Frontinus looked at Helena apologetically. 'I am afraid I shall have to rob you of your husband for a few days. He and I need to make a site visit.'
Helena Justina smiled at him. 'That's no problem, sir. A trip to the country is just what the baby and I need.' Frontinus tried nervously to look like a man who admired the spirit of modern women. I just smiled.
XLVI
Flaccida's disappearance from home ga
ve me a chance to show off.
There was a day's pause before we left Rome, so I used that to investigate for Milvia. Needless to say, it was not as much fun as pursuing widows can be. All the widows for whom I had previously worked were not merely provided with twinkling inheritances, but highly attractive and susceptible to a handsome grin. In fact since I met Helena I had given up that kind of client. Life was risky enough.
The pause occurred while I waited for my travel companion to clear his private affairs, which were necessarily more complex than mine. He had a few million sesterces invested in land to demand his attention, and a Senate reputation to cultivate, not to mention his imminent posting to Britain. The preparations for three years at the edge of the Empire couldn't be left to his underlings; his toga folders and secretaries might not yet appreciate how terrible the province was.
Frontinus had insisted on supervising the Tibur investigations. So long as he didn't try to supervise me I wasn't arguing. As a Roman I had little neighbourhood knowledge and no remit except as a member of his aqueduct investigation team. His presence would strengthen my hand. Given the status of the landowners who patronised that district, resistance to enquiries was quite likely The filthy rich have more secrets to guard than the poor.
Seizing my chance, therefore, while his honour sorted out his own business, I took myself down to the Florius homestead and spied around outside. A slave trotted out to go shopping, so I collared him, slipped him a small coin, added a few more at his suggestion, and asked what the word was about the missing dame. He clearly hated Flaccida, and willingly revealed that no one in the household knew anything of her whereabouts. I did not trouble to knock and speak to Milvia.
There was definitely no vigiles presence in the street, or I would have spotted them. So I took a stroll back up the Aventine, barged in on Marcus Rubella in the Fourth Cohort's Twelfth District headquarters, and asked him outright what had happened to his surveillance team.
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