“That should be healthy for people in your line.”
“Oh Smaractus thinks he'll be rolling-but he'll be lucky!” sneered Asiacus. “They'll be wanting class acts there. Besides, the big operators will have all the contracts well sewn up long before.”
“Are they manoeuvring already?”
“You bet.”
“Will there be a lot of competition?”
“Sharp as knives.”
“Who are the big operators?”
“Saturninus, Hanno-not Smaractus. No chance!”
“Still, there should be plenty of profit to go round-or do you think things might turn nasty?”
“Bound to,” said Rodan.
“Is that a well-educated guess, or do you know for sure?”
“We know it.”
Helena sounded in awe of their inside knowledge: “Has trouble started?”
“Plenty,” Rodan said, boasting like a Celtic beer-swiller. “It's not so bad among the fighters' lanistae. Supplying men can be fixed without much trouble-though of course they have to be trained,” he remembered to say, as if he and his filthy partner were talented experts not simple brutes. “But the word is that there's going to be a huge venatio-as many big cats as the organisers can get hold of: and they are promising thousands. That's got the beast importers shitting bricks.”
Helena ignored the obscenity without flinching. “It's going to be a wonderful building, so I suppose they will inaugurate it with appropriately lavish shows. Are the beast importers afraid they cannot meet the demand?”
“More like, each one is afraid the others will meet it and he'll lose out! They all want to make a killing!” Rodan collapsed, laughing hoarsely, overcome by his wit. “make a killing, see-”
Asiacus put on a show of greater intelligence, bashing Rodan sideways in disgust at the terrible pun. They sprawled over even more of the pavement while Helena politely stepped back to make more room for them.
“So what are the importers up to at the moment?” she asked, still as if she were simply gossiping. “Have you heard any stories?”
“Oh there's plenty of stories!” Asiacus assured her (which meant he had heard absolutely nothing definite).
“Blackening each other's character,” suggested Rodan.
“Dirty tricks,” added Asiacus.
“Oh you mean like stealing each other's animals?” Helena asked them innocently.
“Well, I bet they would if they thought of it,” Rodan decreed. “Most of ‘em are too thick to have the idea. Besides,” he went on, “nobody's going to tangle with a great big roaring lion, are they?”
“Falco saw something very peculiar today,” Helena decided to confess. “He thinks some dirty trick with a lion may have happened.”
“That Falco's an idiot.”
I decided it was time to step forward and show myself before Helena Justina heard something else a well brought-up senator's daughter should not be told.
13
HELENA TOOK THE baby from me demurely while the two heavies sat up and jeered. “Io, Falco! Watch out; Smaractus is looking for you.”
They had immediately become perky now that I had appeared to put myself in line for thumping.
“Forget it,” I said, giving Helena a glare to keep her in some sort of order. “Smaractus has stopped harassing me He promised me a year's free rent when I saved his life in the wedding fire.”
“Get up to date,” chortled Rodan. “The wedding was over a year ago. Smaractus has just realized you owe him for the past two months!”
I sighed.
Helena sent me a look that said she would talk to me at home about which part of our tight budget the money would come from. Since the rent in question was owed for my old apartment, currently occupied by my disreputable friend Petronius, she would reckon he should contribute. His life was such a mess at present, I preferred not to bother him. I winked at Helena, which nowhere near fooled her, then I encouraged her to go ahead and start putting pans on our cooking bench.
“Don't fry the fish; I'll do that,” I ordered, asserting my rights as the cook.
“Don't stay too long gossiping then; I'm hungry,” she retaliated, as if the delay in dinner was all my fault. I watched her cross the road, a figure that made the two gladiators salivate, and walking with more confidence than she ought to show. Then I saw the scampering shape of Nux our dog shoot out from the shadows at the foot of the stairs and accompany her safely home.
I had no intention of pressing Rodan and Asiacus for more information, but I had promised to tackle Smaractus about Lenia's divorce. He was on his way down. That became obvious, as the shrieks of abuse from his tenants grew louder. His bodyguards Hill their wineskin to stop him pinching it, and shambled to their feet.
I yelled up to Smaractus. As I expected, the pleasure of telling me my period of free rent had ended brought him rushing down the staircase. A lolloping figure with a belted-in winegut, he stumbled badly as he reached ground level.
“You want to watch that,” I advised in a nasty tone. “Those treads are crumbling badly. The landlord's heading for a huge compensation claim when someone breaks their neck.”
“I hope it's you, Falco. I'll pay the claim; it would be worth it.”
“Glad to see relations between us are as amicable as ever-by the way, I'm surprised you haven't been asking for rent again; it's very good of you to extend my free-gift period-”
Smaractus went a horrid shade of purple, outraged by my cheek. He clutched at a heavy gold torque he had taken to wearing; he had always been prone to insulting his tenants by flashing large chunks of ugly jewellery. It seemed to act as a talisman and he hit back straightaway: “That big bastard from the vigiles who you've planted in my apartment on the sixth, Falco-I want him out. I never allow sub-letting.”
“No; you prefer that when folk go on holiday you can stick in filthy subtenants of your own and charge twice Petro's all right. He's part of the family. He's just staying with me for a short term while he sorts out some personal business. And speaking of women, I want to talk to you about Lenia.”
“You keep out of that.”
“Now settle down. You can't go on like this. You both need your freedom; the mess you've put yourselves in needs to be untangled, and the only way is to face the situation.”
“I've spelt out my terms.”
“Your terms stink. Lenia's told you what she wants. I dare say she's been rather over-demanding too. I'm offering to arbitrate. Let's try and arrange a sensible compromise.”
“Stuff you, Falco.”
“You're so refined! Smaractus, this is the kind of stubbornness that dragged out the Trojan War to a decade of misery. Think about what I've said.”
“No, I'll just think about the day I can lose you off my tenants' list.”
I beamed at him. “Well, we're at one there!”
Rodan and Asiacus were growing bored, so they made their usual offer to Smaractus of rolling me out like a pastry and making a human fruit tart. Before he decided which of his pet bullies was to hold me down and which to jump on me, I put myself in the street with room to sprint for home, then asked him casually, “Is Calliopus, the lanista, a colleague of yours?”
“Never heard of him,” growled Smaractus. As an informant he measured up to his filthy qualities as a landlord: he was as welcome as root rot.
“Rodan and Asiacus have been telling me about the ructions in your business. I gather the big new amphitheatre heralds an unparalleled era of happiness among the high-living venatio boys. Calliopus is one of them; I'm surprised a man of the world like you doesn't know him. What about Saturninus then?”
“Don't know him, and wouldn't tell you if I did.”
“Generous as ever.” At least that made him look worried that his truculence had in some subtle way shed light for me. “So you didn't know the arena suppliers are all hoping to make their fortunes when the new place officially opens?”