I stared at my brother-in-law. He was now twenty-six or seven, a tall, slim, fairly fit man who had once had a career in front of him, though he had lost hope in that. He must have been able to keep himself clean at the Spy's house, but cannot have shaved for several days. He looked strained. It was more than his dread over the legionary's fate. Bruised circles under those dark eyes the women all fancied marred what could have been a handsome face. Among all that stubble, there was no trace of his normal wide-mouthed grin. 'We need to talk, Quintus.'
In low, level voices, we caught up. It took a while. Justinus maintained he had not known Ganna would be at the Temple of Diana; he was just hoping to find Veleda there. I picked up on that privately, but did not immediately demand how he had known her possible whereabouts.
During the mess with the Guards, Justinus had realised he was about to fall into Anacrites' hands again, so he made a bolt for it. He found a secret wooden stair that led up into the roof; sometimes the goddess made a ritual 'appearance' to the public, displayed at a window above the portico. Titus and Gaudus saw him go, knew he was vital to our task, and quickly ran after him. Later, when it was safe to descend, they had all gone to my house, but when the others returned and said Lentullus was seriously hurt, Justinus insisted on coming here. 'I keep remembering all we went through together in Germany. We all said Lentullus was hopeless – but he came good, Falco.' 'Oh I'll never forget him, swinging on the tail of that bloody great aurochs, without a fear, while the beast plunged about and I was trying to stick a tiny knife in its neck…'
'Heart of gold. You wanted him to keep me out of trouble – yet I ended up getting him into this. I'll never forgive myself, Marcus. He adored you and me.'
‘We gave him the biggest and most exciting adventure of his life. He won't blame you.' Justinus blamed himself, however.
I let him carry on maundering over Lentullus for a while. Then I stopped him: 'So have you seen Veleda?' He looked blank. It had to be an act. 'Or had you merely been in contact with her before Anacrites had you arrested?' He tried to sustain the innocent ploy, so I shouted, 'Camillus Justinus, don't mess me about!' 'Hush!' he remonstrated, gesturing to Lentullus. I fixed a straight glare on him. He must know I was assessing him. He must realise why. He had worked as my assistant for the past couple of years; he knew my methods. 'All right, Falco…' My gaze did not waver. 'I have not seen her.' 'Honest?' 'It's the truth.' 1 believed him. All his family were straight. While 1 had known Justinus keep things to himself-his past liaison with Veleda being one – 1 had never known him tell direct lies. 'You will need to prove it to the world – so give, Quintus!' 'Settle down. We're partners, aren't we? There is no necessity totreat me like a suspect.' There was every need for it. 'Wrong, Quintus. And if you are fooling around with Veleda, ourassociation ends right now.'
He cursed quietly. Then he told me. 'I knew when she arrived in Italy. You were still in Greece… It was supposed to be kept quiet, but Hades, everyone in Rome was talking about it. When she was at that so-called safe house, 1 did try to get messages to her.'
1 wanted to ask how, but first 1 needed to know ifI could trust him. So it was more important to know why. 'Were you hoping to take up where you two left off?' Justinus looked sulky. 'There was nothing to take up.'
'I remember,' 1 said drily. 'I can still see you now, alleging that nothing had happened between you and Veleda, when every single one of us on that ship knew it was a load of rubbish.'
'The ship!' he reminded me. 'She gave us the bloody ship, Falco. She saved our lives by letting us escape down the river. Don't you think we owe her something in return?'
'What? Provide her with a ship to return her to Germany? No, it's too late, Quintus. Rutilius Gallicus has brought her here and she's stuck with her fate. We'll all have to live with it… How did you know about the safe house?' 'What?' 'I want to know, Quintus. How did you know where they had put her? Did she write and tell you?'
'She has never written to me, Falco. 1 don't even know if she can write. The Celts don't believe in writing things down; they commit important stories, facts, myths, histories to memory.'
'Spare me the cultural lecture!… Not much point Anacrites putting up a written notice to lure her in,' 1 commented, to lighten it. 'Not much point in anything he does.' 'How did you get on with him, when you were at his house?' 'Relations were cool.' 'Did he try to recruit you?' 'As a spy? Yes, he did. How do you know?' 'The snake tried it on with your brother in the past. What did you answer?' 'I said no, of course.' 'Happy fellow. So how did you know Veleda's whereabouts?' 1 reiterated.
Justinus at last capitulated, mildly enough. 'I know a man. Slight acquaintance, baths and gymnasium, nothing special. We nod to one another, but 1 wouldn't say 1 ever let him strigil my back… When everyone was speculating about Veleda, 1 happened to mutter that 1 had once met her. He must have been looking for somebody safe to confide in. He was bursting to share the secret with someone – Scaeva told me.' 1 took a breath so hard it hurt. 'You know Scaeva?'
XLIII
'Gratianus Scaeva – brother of Drusilla Gratiana? Lived at the Quadrumatus villa? You know him, Quintus?' 'Only slightly.' 'Scaeva was passing messages for you?'
Justinus shrugged. 'He took letters from me. I got nothing back. Once he had given away where Veleda was, he lost his nerve fast. He was terrified of being found out. He wanted nothing more to do with me – but I kept seeking him out and insisting.'
'Did you want a reply from the priestess? Were you trying to resume your relationship?' Silence. 'Come on, lad. What were you playing at?' 'I don't really know.' I believed that. 'Wonderful. Every mess in the world is caused by some idiot who can't make up his ridiculous mind about a woman who's not interested.'
I hit him with the information that Scaeva was dead. Quintus looked shocked. It could be genuine. I told him exactly how it had happened. Then I watched him work out the implications. 'Do you think Veleda hacked his head off?'
My brother-in-law blew out his cheeks. 'That's possible.' He had seen her amongst her tribal warriors, when they were baying for Roman blood; he knew that her place as a venerated leader depended on showing she was ruthless.
I liked the fact that he did not rush to defend her. Even so, his personal predicament was grim. Whatever assurances he gave, it looked as if he and the priestess had colluded. 'What can you tell me about Scaeva? This is urgent, Quintus.' 'I don't know much. Until recently I tried to avoid him. He was always snuffling and carrying on about his health. Well, that's unfair; he was fed up with it himself He complained that he seemed to have spent every Satumalia of his life lying sick on a couch.' 'Well, I'm afraid it won't happen this year.' 'No.' Justinus looked thoughtful. Perhaps he was considering the transience of life.
I now grilled him on how he came to think that Veleda might have been at the Temple of Diana tonight. His answer made things even more ghastly: according to him, in one of his unanswered letters, he himself suggested it as a place of refuge. 'What happened to those letters, Quintus?' 'I don't know.' I hoped Veleda had destroyed them. If not, we had to find them. We had to retrieve and obliterate them. Another dirty task for me.
The thought crossed my mind that Gratianus Scaeva might have been killed because somebody discovered he was acting as an intermediary. If so, his punishment seemed vile. Still, the perpetrator may have deliberately set out to implicate Veleda. It was the kind of trick Anacrites might play. 'Right. Let's get it straight: Veleda comes to Rome. You think you owe her something for saving us. You offer help; Scaeva takes the letters; she does not reply.' She could have been carrying her reply along to Scaeva, the day Scaeva was killed. It was even possible Scaeva tried to wriggle out of taking her letter to Quintus, so that was why Veleda attacked Scaeva… Somehow I thought not. 'Even in two weeks of freedom she has not tried to contact you, apparently. So did you give up on her, Quintus?' He looked vague, as if he could not accept that he and the priestess were past history.