Yes, he knew. I reckon the King had already made his feelings felt. With a snarl, Verovolcus turned and strode towards the door. As a gesture of contempt, he knocked the Cupid from its side-table plinth. It lay on the floor, its iron arrow still rigidly in place. All the Britons stepped over it politely as they made their way out. Perhaps they thought it might bite their ankles.
Something close to peace returned to the bar. Customers took up the same seats as before, finding their drinks again. Some had a slight air of sadness, as if they had hoped their drinks had been spilt in the commotion.
I turned back to the girl. Now I was in no mood for messing. She started to smile but I cut short the pleasantry. "The angry man said it, sweetheart. The name's Falco. Marcus Didius Falco."
Her blue eyes were appraising my new mood. She had heard the name. Like others before her, she was in two minds whether this was good or bad. "You are the man from Rome."
Larius laughed briefly. "We are all men from Rome, Virginia."
He would learn.
To Virginia I said sternly, "So, tell me again- what time does the entertainment start' my tone hardened 'or does it?"
She knew what I meant. "She's not coming," Virginia admitted. "She is dancing somewhere else tonight."
My nephew and the Camilli were indignant. "You said' Justinus started.
I thumped his shoulder playfully. "Oh grow up, Quintus. The whole point of beautiful barmaids is that they lie to you."
"So why did she tell you the truth?" he raged.
"Simple. We are all men from Rome but Virginia knows that I am the important one."
LVI
we were all on our feet, to go hunting for Perella. Justinus was already at the door. As the stricken statue lay in their path, Larius and Aelianus cautiously picked it up between them and placed it back on its table. Aelianus jokingly lined up the bow, so it aimed at me.
I had been about to leave with the lads, but I turned back. "Who owns your cheeky table-top art?" I asked Virginia.
"The builder- at the moment." Clearly she did not appreciate the off-balance cherub. His peeping buttocks and his leer were wasted on this worldly girl. "He gave us it as part of the decoration scheme for the new rooms upstairs."
"Appropriate." I confess I sneered. Upstairs rooms in places that sell drinks have only one purpose, everybody knows. I gazed at the girl. "Will you be working there yourself?"
She was too young to be insulted so meanly, but perhaps it would make her think. The bar owner was bound to be planning a career move for her. Sophistication had hit Britain; disease and low morals had arrived.
"Certainly not!" Her indignation sounded real. The bar owner had not told her his intentions yet.
"Oh you will find it hard squeaking that you're innocent, once the stairs are built. Stairs in bars go up to private rooms and customers think rooms above bars have only one purpose." In Rome waitresses are officially designated prostitutes. It is among the infamous professions.
"That's libel!" snapped Virginia. The law tutors had been here too. Strange how quickly barbarian peoples learn to use the basilica courts as a threat. "I am a respectable woman-'
I glanced at Larius and laughed. "No. You've slept with my nephew, darling. He's married. Well, I'm married. We are all married except for the snooty one."
The Cupid fell over again.
"Shove a stick under it!" muttered Aelianus. Larius broke a splinter off a table edge and began to comply. Aelianus was fussing. "It's playing up again. You have to get it absolutely level or the bloody thing tips up '
"Not the best invention of Heron of Alexandria?" I jibed. The Cupid was too top-heavy.
"Pure Sextius," Aelianus growled, giving it a sharp punch in the stomach. It reacted with an angry clang.
Delaying for art criticism had served a purpose. A man emerged from one of the side rooms looking to refill an empty beaker. He saw Larius trying to wedge the statue upright and at once tried to sell it to him.
"Nice bit of bronze- feel that; absolutely genuine. Look at the lovely patina takes years to acquire, you know."
Larius stepped back, alarmed. He had seen enough fly salesman to know his purse was at risk. Aelianus scowled and jammed the Cupid's table into a corner of the room, where he somehow propped the bronze beast uncertainly upright against the wall. Justinus was still holding open the outer door impatiently, waiting for the rest of us. "Name of the gods, Marcus- we have to go!"
But I was looking at the newcomer.
It had to be the building contractor. He was somewhere between forty and fifty; he had lost most of his hair. His manner was urbane enough to come from outside Britain. Like all builders he wore a scruffy oversized tunic, creased in the body and loose in the sleeves, \with a wide neck. They live in old garments that won't be harmed by dust and heavy work- despite the fact they never lift a finger on a contract. The tunic was bunched untidily over a scratched belt. Only his boots were worth much and even they had been repaired.
He needed a shave and a haircut. He was one of those men who looks as if he never settled, but wears an outsize wedding ring. A wife probably put it on his finger, but whether she had stayed around afterwards was a different matter. He was well built, at least around the midriff; he could be prosperous. He had a direct, friendly air. |
He had noticed me staring. "Do I know you, legate?"
"We've never met." I knew a great deal about him, though. I walked across, holding out my hand. He took it, producing a personable smile. He had a firm handshake. Not as firm as mine.
"Falcof urged Justinus from the doorway. At my name, I felt the builder's grip slacken. He was trying to back off. I held on grimly.
"That's me," I acknowledged with a smile. "Falco. And you must be Lobullus?"
Lobullus returned a sickly grin. I stopped smiling.
"You're the uncle of Alexas, the orderly on the palace site, aren't you? He has told me all about you." I don't mind lying. People tell me enough untruths; I deserve to even up the score. And Alexas was one who had lied to me. "So you're working here at the Rainbow Trout- and starting the Great King's bath-house update?" Lobullus nodded, still distracted by my fierce grasp of his hand. "You get around," I commented. "The last I heard, you were finishing a long contract on the Janiculan Hill in Rome… Are you using a false name, or is Gloccus just a cognomen you leave at home when you take off as a fugitive?"
Aelianus stepped away from the side table, so he could move in to support me. We pushed the builder onto a stool.
"Didius Falco," I spelled out. "Son of Didius Favonius. You also know my dear Papa as Geminus. He may be a rogue- but even he thinks that you stink, Gloccus. Helena Justina, who employed you for owrbath house, is my wife."
"A very nice woman," Gloccus assured me. That was decent. I knew that on several occasions Helena had let rip at him in her best style. With cause.
"She will be delighted that you remember her. Pity she's not here; I know she has a word still left to say to you. Camillus Aelianus that's him over there- had the pleasure of meeting your own wife in Rome. She is much looking forward to your return home, he tells me. Plenty to discuss."
Gloccus took it cheerily.
"So where is your partner this evening, Gloccus? What chance of meeting the infamous Cotta?"
"Not seen him for months, Falco."
"Alexas is your nephew- but I thought Cotta was the one with medical relatives?"
"He is. We're all related. Cotta is family."
"So where is he?"
"We parted company in Gaul-'
"I shall want to know," I growled, 'in which town, which district of the town and which bath house you were both destroying when you did him in!"
"Oh don't say that! You've got it all wrong, Falco. Cotta is not dead."
"I do hope not. I shall be very annoyed if you deprive me of the pleasure of killing him. So where did he go?"