Jupiter Myth

XLVII

Even Helena had stopped murmuring to Albia. Helena had wonderful ears. Those shapely shells were perfect for pearl earrings, tempting to nibble-and they could single out whispered words of scandal from right across a humming banquet hall. She held up a finger to keep the girl silent.

Petronius Longus placed his hands flat on his thighs, breathing slowly. "You are about to do something noble, Popillius?"

"I am not as stupid as you seem to think," returned the lawyer peacefully.

A half-grin fixed itself on Petro's face. "You tailed the slave!" "Of course," confirmed Popillius with a light inflection. "When the legal profession are offered anonymous clients, it is regular practice." Petronius winced. "And to whose house did the slave return?"

"That of Norbanus Murena."

Petronius and I leaned back and slowly whistled. Popillius looked reflective. His voice was low, almost sorrowful, as he contemplated the devious world. "The perfect neighbor, I am told. A decent man, with an elderly mother upon whom he dotes. She is not with him in Britain, if the lady really exists. Which I regard as unproven, incidentally."

Petronius and I both shook our heads in amazement.

"So why are you telling us?" I queried.

"That should be obvious," the lawyer replied piously.

"You hate and despise gangsters?"

"As much as anyone."

"But you take their money?"

"If there is a justification legally."

"Then why give Norbanus away?"

Now Popillius did look slightly embarrassed, but the mood was fleeting. "I was hired. I took the case." I still did not see the point.

"You told me Pyro was poisoned by these gangsters," explained Popillius. Then he showed us that a lawyer's conscience is a tender thing: "I have been paid for my services and I will defend his interests. What has happened to Pyro is an outrage. I cannot allow anyone to kill my client and get away with it."