Saturnalia

Petronius grinned broadly. 'The big poppy at the Palace? Well that's all right; it doesn't count.'

Trust a public servant to take a realistic view.

In a few taut sentences I summed up the mission for him.

There was a reason why I was bringing Petronius into my confidence. I explained-though to him it was perfectly obvious-that with the whole of Rome to search and no clues, I stood little chance of finding Veleda, let alone both Veleda and Justinus, aided by only a handful of lackadaisical legionaries from Germany.

'This stinks.' He sounded calm.

'Surprised?'

'It's one of your jobs, you idiot. You're going to need our help as usual.'

'It's a rat's arse,' I agreed quietly. 'In which, as you so rightly notice, it differs from my usual commissions by not one digit of linear measurement. That Veleda is on the loose in Rome, and has been for over ten days, is a State Secret of some delicacy-'

'Everyone's heard about it,' scoffed Petro. He let out another belch; he claimed this kept him fit. Maia just glowered. They were like an old married couple; although both had been previously hitched to other people, most of us thought these two should have been sharing a bed from the start.

I carried on: 'Anacrites has been put in charge of an official hunt, using the Praetorians-' This time Petronius really swore. 'Right! If the Praetorian Guard, fired up with Saturnalia drink, find Veleda, she'll become a new, and ghastly, festival game.' The vigiles would not be delicate with her either, but I left that to his imagination. Petro was well aware that his cohort was composed of roughs and toughs; in truth he was proud of them. 'And the common people are terrified of barbarians invading the citadel, so they will tear Veleda apart.'

Maia, who had been silent and apparently absorbed in her Saturnalia list, looked up and inserted in a caustic tone, 'That is nothing to what Claudia Rufina will do if she catches her.' Petronius and I both winced.

'Give me a description to circulate,' Petro offered.

'I'd like this to be kept from your tribune, you know.'

'Be realistic, Falco. Rubella needs to know-and what's more, so do his oppos: you need this to be given to all the cohort tribunes because Veleda could be anywhere. She may know that you live on the Aventine and Justinus lives by the Capena Gate, but in what?-nearly two weeks-she hasn't come looking for either you or him. So by now she could be hiding up in any of the districts-assuming she is hiding up, and not being held by some bastards against her will somewhere.' I was protesting, but he stopped me. 'I can put it forward as a game the tribunes will all like: "find the lost prisoner first, to annoy the Praetorians". They will do it, and be discreet.'

I could see this would work. In theory the Praetorian Prefect looked after the Emperor, the Urban Prefect looked after the city by day, and the Prefect of Vigiles controlled the Night Watch; according to their rulebook, the three forces worked in harmony. In fact, there was serious rivalry. Bad feeling went back at least as far as when Emperor Tiberius found himself under threat from the usurper Sejanus, who had the loyalty of the Praetorians. Unable to trust his own imperial guards, Tiberius had cunningly used the vigiles to arrest Sejanus. The Praetorians now liked to pretend it had never happened-but the vigiles never forgot.

'You could also whisper to the Urban Cohorts why their big brothers are stonking all over the city; the Urbans will defend their patch. '

'Unfortunatelyour lot are not talking to the Urbans either. But I'd thought of that,' said Petro.

Of course if it became known that I had brought in the vigiles on a confidential, entirely Praetorian matter, my position would be… difficult. I decided I would deal with that if the issue ever arose.

I could now trust Petronius to put in place a city-wide search for the priestess. He understood that it needed to be an observation and reporting back exercise, nothing too visible. For all we knew, Veleda might have assembled a support group; they could be armed and plotting trouble. We also had to avoid causing general alarm.

I asked Petro for advice on where to start looking myself

'The obvious way to disappear,' he said, 'is for her to get a job in some backstreet bar.'

'Not feasible. She's never been in a city. She's never lived as a free woman anywhere. We call her a barbarian, though she's more sophisticated than you would expect-yet she'll stick out as a stranger. She's always held a position of respect among the tribes; she's been tended and protected-she lived at the top of a signal tower, for heavens' sake-so she won't know anything about normal life. She probably couldn't live alone unnoticed, even in her own country-' 'Does she have any money, Falco?'

'Probably not. She should have been stripped of her valuables.

Perhaps some jewellery. I can ask Pa to put the word out in case she tries to sell anything.' Ganna should be able to tell me what Veleda possessed. Anything worthwhile would find its way to the gem stalls at the Saepta Julia. 'I am told she wants to get back to Free Germany. It's the wrong time of year to travel and the alarm is raised. Unless she makes contact with sympathisers who are willing to help her, she can't even pay for the journey.'

'So she has to go underground.' Petro was thinking. He ticked off people I should contact. 'The German community in Rome.'

'Is there one?'

He shrugged. 'Traders. Must be. Your father should know, from colleagues at the Emporium.'

'Aren't traders by definition friends of Rome?'

'When were traders friends of anyone but themselves?' Petronius was cynical. 'Traders come from all over the place, you know that. They have no qualms about making money from their nations' enemies. Aliens can get here. There's probably some tight little nest of Bructeran barterers right under our noses, if we knew where to look. But don't ask me.'

'No handy list of Free German interlopers?' Petronius ignored my jibe about vigiles' lists. They kept one for informers, and I knew my name was on it. 'I can't think what the Bructeri would have to sell in Rome.'

'People come here to buy, Falco.' He was right there. He thought of another unpleasant group to search: 'Then assuming your priestess is destitute, she might find a refuge among runaway slaves.'

'And how,' I asked sarcastically, 'do I find them, given that their wronged masters have failed to do so? Aren't they invisible on principle?'

'Plentyout there. Doorways. Under the arches. A large colony sleeps rough among the tombs on the Via Appia.'

'I thought the necropolis was haunted by ghosts?'

'Be bloody careful if you go there!' Petro warned. He did not offer to accompany me, I noticed. 'There's one more place. She is a priestess-you could try looking in temples.'

Oh thanks very much. It must have escaped his notice how many of those there were in Rome.

One of his cats crept into the room. The beast could tell I was a dog man, so it smugly came straight for me, purring. Petronius started grinning. I was already flea-bitten after Stringy at the caupona, so I made my excuses rapidly and went home.

XII

My house seemed suspiciously quiet. It spoke of recent ructions. I didn't ask.

Helena and I sat in the kitchen and organised ourselves a quiet supper. We had the last of today's bread, some cold fish, olives and soft cheese. I scrutinised her carefully, but she seemed at ease. Being landed with the soldiers, in the run up to Saturnalia, failed to faze her. The truth was, Helena Justina liked a challenge.

From a corner of the room, our new cook Jacinthus watched. If he had seemed upset by us invading his territory, we would have let him choose the food and serve us, but he was indifferent. So we took over the scrubbed table where he was supposed to prepare things, I fetched a jug of white wine which we two kept to ourselves, and we carried on discussing the day as we always had done, cook or no cook. I had worked on occasions with various partners, including both of Helena's brothers. The person I most enjoyed working with was Helena Justina herself Non-judgmental, aware and intelligent, she had understood my approach and my routines pretty well PSTom the first time I met her. Ever since, she had been my confidante. She would help me chew over ideas, where possible she would accompany me to interviews, she researched backgrounds, worked out timescales, often came up with solutions. Importantly, she took charge of my finances. The best informer in the world is useless if he becomes insolvent.