`So what do you reckon we do now?' I asked. Naturally I had my own ideas. I was convinced the brothel had been made the new centre of the Balbinus organisation.
`We need to know if Balbinus is inside Plato's.'
I agreed so far. `Or if not, when they are expecting him.'
`So we need an inside man,' Martinus said.
I glanced at him uneasily. `You mean one of us?'
`Jupiter, no! Unless,' he grinned, `you fancy volunteering?'
`If that's the plan, I fancy a long vacation on a pig farm in Bruttium!'
Martinus shook his head. `We need a single-handed worker. One who looks bent enough to be accepted without comment, but who has no real allegiance to the Balbinus mob.' He pointed a long finger at a pickpocket who for the past half-hour had been patiently working the crowds. `There's one I know. He'll do.'
We walked across to the unobtrusive pouch-snatcher and waited until he bumped into his next victim. Martinus instantly laid a hand on his shoulder, and just as quickly the man darted off. `Drop him, Falco!'
I knocked the snatcher's legs from under him, and Martinus sat down hard on his ribs. We tossed the purse back to the victim, who blinked in surprise, then looked at us as if he feared we were setting him up for some really complicated con. Sighing, Martinus waved him away.
We stood the pickpocket upright and grinned at him.
LVIII
`Me name's Igullius!'
He was a runt. I myself would never have let him nick my purse; I would not have let this ill-favoured, pathetic creature stand near enough to me to finger it. `His name's Igullius. Write it down, Martinus!' Martinus fetched out his note tablet and wrote it down. First, however, he courteously checked the spelling.
This pickpocket had a greasy face and oily hair. His breath was coming in short, frightened pants. It informed us that his breakfast had included hard-boiled eggs; his lunch was a garlic stew. The flavouring had been generous and was now pervading all the pores of his unhealthy skin.
Martinus and I stepped back. Igullius wondered if he dared make a run for it. We glared. He stayed put. Martinus explained like a kindly uncle that it was necessary for him to submit to a search.
Igullius was wearing a natural wool toga which Martinus lifted off him, using the tips of his fingers as if he thought he might catch plague. Somewhat to our surprise we found nothing in its folds. Igullius looked self-righteous. We surveyed what was left of him: battered boots and a rather wide-necked tunic, fastened tightly round his midriff by a nipped-in belt that was nearly bisecting him.
`Take off your belt,' I commanded.
`What for?'
`So I can thrash you with it, if you don't get a move on.' I sounded like a watch captain. Sometimes you have to lower yourself to obtain a result.
With a filthy look, Igullius hoicked in his rib-gripper and let the clincher off its notch. Purses tumbled from beneath his tunic with a melodious clink. One bounced on his kneecap, causing his leg to kick. `Ooh look, Falco, it's snowing denarii!'
`I'll see you,' the pickpocket replied defiantly as Martinus tweaked at the tunic in case there was more.
`I don't take.' The answer from Martinus came out sweetly and calmly. Igullius probably failed to realise this was the Forum Romanum district, whereas we were from the Aventine. The First Cohort ought to be in charge here, though typically none had been visible anywhere for the past hour. Martinus stooped, gathering the booty. `The game's up, Igullius. You're going to climb the tree; we'll crucify you.'
`I never did nothing.'
Martinus shook a couple of purses in his face. `We'll have to discuss that. Falco, let's take him to a private room somewhere.'
`Oh no!' Sheer terror now gripped our captive. `I'm not going in any cell with you!' Martinus had never intended taking him to the Fourth's patrol house; apart from the fact we did not want to involve Petronius, we were too far away. But the mere hint caused an extreme reaction. Somebody somewhere in the cohorts had a formidable reputation.
In fright Igullius made a sudden break. I grabbed- him and wrapped his arms around his back, holding him fast. Martinus was stuck with the flavoursome breath, but carried on bravely. `You stink and you steal. Give me one good reason to go easy on you, Igullius!'
The pickpocket had been in the streets long enough to know what was required. `Oh Jupiter! Well what have I got to do?'
'Co-operate. But you'll like it,' we told him. `We're going to give you the money to go with a prostitute!' We turned the pickpocket round, took an arm each, lifted him over a screever who was begging on the pavement with a piteous message, then marched him down the Sacred Way.
As we crossed the Via Nova into the shadow of the Palatine I noticed Tibullinus, the centurion of the Sixth. We had seen him at Ostia, and he had turned up when we were looking at the corpse of Nonnius. Tibullinus was too closely involved in events to let him notice us here. I gave Martinus the nod. Alert, he took the point. But Tibullinus was patrolling the Palatine in a style that seemed to suit him – laughing and joking with fellows he recognised. He did not see us..
We took our new acquaintance back to the Oily jug. This time we were more brisk with the woman. She had two choices – either to spend the next couple of days with a friend somewhere, or to pass them in a cell. Once again this threat worked miracles. She decided she had a sister who was longing to see her, and fled from our watching post.
Training Igullius was tiresome. We used the kind method, only thumping him when his eyes glazed. `That building over there is called the Bower of Venus -'
`That's Plato's.'
`Have you been there?'
`Of course.' He was possibly bluffing, but he wanted to appear a smart man about town.
`Well Plato's may be under new management, but we're not interested in the brothel itself. There's a phoenix in Rome. A person who is supposed to be banished has come home again.' Maybe Igullius knew. He was already pale. `His name is Balbinus Pius. Some of his men are hanging out in Plato's. Maybe he's there too. Maybe he's just hiring rooms for them. But if he visits his troops, we want to know. You see how it is, Igullius. You're going in, you're going to recognise a friend, or make a new one if you have to, but however you do it you're going to sit in a corner keeping quiet until you can come out and tell us a date and time when Balbinus will be available for interview.'
`Oh give me a chance, Falco! I'm dead if I try that.'
`You're dead if you don't,' smiled Martinus. He enjoyed playing the cruel executioner.
I took a hand again. `Now settle down, Igullius. We know you're not entirely bad, so we're giving you this fine job opportunity. You're going to be our undercover man. And to compensate your loss of earnings from your regular work, we'll find you a big ex gratia at the end of the day.'
`How about paying some in advance?'
`Don't be stupid,' said Martinus. `We're in the vigiles. We have to remember public accountability.'.
Igullius tried one last desperate wriggle. `That place is full of hard men. They'll spot a weed' in the garden straight away.'
`You've been there before, according to you. You'll have to make sure you blend 1n,' I said callously. `You're perfectly capable.
Anyone who can slide up and sneak purses even though he has breath that can be smelled at twenty paces can merge into a nest of mostly stupid criminals.'
We gave him the price of a whore to start him off convincingly, then pushed him on his way.