A Body In The Bath House

XVII

while cAMiitus the janus was being toughened up on the open road, his little brother had been enjoying life. I was keeping Justinus under wraps in Noviomagus, in case I found a role for him where he must look unconnected with me. He was finding lite dull at the Procurator's town house.

"I'm bored, Falco."

"Tell yourself it could be worse. Aulus can't have washed for a week. He has a filthy horse as a pillow, while in his dreams he tries to puzzle out how to fix a drive-wheel up an iron dove's arse. Want to swap?"

"He gets all the pleasure!"Justinus whined satirically.

My sister sniggered. I was glad to see Maia cheer up, if only briefly. She continued to mourn the absence of her children, and to resent all of us. I had not warned her yet that the King's man Verovolcus was just looking for a sophisticated Roman widow on whom he could _

practice Latin.

I sent Justinus out to find somebody who would hire us a luggage cart. He looked hopeful. "So I'm coming with you to this palace?"

"No."

"Are you staying in town?" he then asked Maia. They seemed to be getting on well.

"She comes with us!" I snapped. The idea that Helena's brother might start mooning over my sister- and that she might allow it- filled me with irritation.

While Helena fed our screaming baby in private and our eldest hurled her toys about, I had told Hyspale to start repacking. "But I have only just wwpacked everything!" she wailed.

I gazed at her. She was a small chubby woman, who thought herself attractive. Which she was, if you liked eyebrows plucked so heavily they were little more than snail trails on her white-leaded face. Where my idea of beauty involved at least a hint of responsiveness, hers stopped short of intelligence. Talking to her was as monotonous as threading a mile-long string of identical beads. She was a self-centred, snobbish little property. If she had been good with our children I might have forgiven her.

She could have been good with children. We would never know. Julia and Favonia failed to arouse her interest.

I folded my arms. I was still staring at the freed woman This dough faced treasure had been given to us by Helena's mother. Julia Justa was an astute, efficient woman; had she wanted to pass on a household trial to us? She knew Helena and I would tackle anything.

Helena normally dealt with Hyspale because of the family connection. I tended to hold back- but had we been in Rome, I would be sending Hyspale straight home to the Camilli without apology. Broaching that delicate issue must wait. Best not even discuss it now. I was tough- yet not so harsh that I could ditch a pampered unmarried female in the wilds of a brutal new province. Still, my grim face should be telling her: the contract for her services had an end date.

Hyspale failed to take my point. I was a working informer. She was the favoured freed woman of a senatorial family. Equestrian status and an imperial commission would never be enough to impress her.

"Stuff every thing back in the bags," I said quietly.

"Oh Marcus Didius, I can't face all that again straight away '

My jaw set off-line. My daughter Julia, more sensitive to atmosphere than the freed woman looked up at me anxiously then threw back her little curly head and started crying loudly. I waited for Hyspale to comfort the child. It did not occur to her.

With a swift glance at me, Maia scooped up Julia and carried her off elsewhere. On the whole, Maia was refusing to involve herself with my children on this trip, as a punishment for being wrenched away from her own. She pretended that mine could scream themselves unconscious and all I could expect from her was a complaint about the racket. But when she was on her own with them, she let herself be the perfect aunt.

Hyspale enraged her. Maia, leaving, ordered her angrily: "Do what you are told, you half-hearted, slapdash scut!"

Perfect. It was the first time Maia and I had shared an opinion since we left Rome.

Justinus arranged our transport, then returned to the house and hung about looking dissatisfied again.

"You're bored. That's good," I said.

"Oh thanks."

"I want you really bored."

"I hear and obey, Caesar!"

"Try making it more obvious." He thought the remark was sarcastic. "I have a job for you. Don't mention Helena Justina; don't mention me. It you meet Aulus or his companion Sextius you can speak to them but don't show that Aulus is your brother. Otherwise, you can play this in character. You're the bored nephew of an official, trapped in Noviomagus Regnensis when you'd rather be out hunting. In fact, you want to be anywhere except where you've been dumped. But you have no horses, no slaves and very little money."

"I can certainly act that."

"You're on your own in a dead-end British town, looking for some harmless thrills."

"With no money?"Justinus jibed.

"It won't get stolen off you that way."

"The thrills in Noviomagus Regnensis had best come very cheap."

"You can't afford their sleazy women, that's for sure. So I can tace your beloved Claudia with a clear conscience."

He made no comment on his beloved Claudia. "So what am I after, Marcus?"

"Find out what's here. I heard they have the usual canabae bound to be dire, but unlike your brother you can at least come home to a clean bed. Watch yourself. They use knives."

He gulped. Justinus had plenty of bravery, though he rationed it. On his own, he would never venture into bad situations. I had been out with him in Germany, in his patch as a tribune in the First Adiutrix legion; he had stuck to the approved military drinking dens, which he left discreetly when the gamblers and guzzlers started duffing I

people up. He knew how to cope in worse places too; I had taken him

H

to a few of those. "Am I looking for Gloccus and Cotta?"

"We all are, all the time. In between, I want to discover the story on a dead Gaul called Dubnus. He was stabbed in a drunken fight recently. And look out for people going out the back of bars to buy pinched materials from the building site. Or bent subcontractors who might be offering stolen goods to the site managers. I also want to identify any disaffected workmen."

"You know such people may exist?"

"Apart from Dubnus, it's guesswork. Mind you, I've seen the amicable atmosphere on site! Most of them dislike each other, and they all loathe the project manager. And I was briefed in Rome that the scheme is rife with corrupt practices."

Justinus bit his thumb. He was probably excited at his task. Cocky about it, even. But those deep brown eyes, whose warm promise had lured Claudia Rutina from Aelianus almost without either brother noticing what was on her mind, were now pondering how to approach this. He would be planning his wardrobe and rehearsing his script as a disaffected young aristocrat far from home. He was weighing risks too. Wondering whether he dared take a weapon- and if so, where to hide it. He realised that once he wandered into the local canabae on a gloomy British evening, there would be no simple escape route and no handy officials he could call upon for help.

As I sat alone with him now- especially without his bickering brother I was remembering how secure I always felt when I worked with Justinus. He had excellent qualities. Quiet good sense, for one thing.

He needed that. What I had just asked of him was no idle game. Time was, if anyone had to infiltrate the dark hovels of a native cantonment, there would be no option: I would go myself. Sending a lad in my place would never have occurred to me.

Perhaps he could see my thoughts. "I will take care."

"If in doubt, retreat."

"That's your motto, is it?" A smile flashed easily.

There was one good reason for sending him instead of me. I was middle-aged nowadays, with the air of a well-married man. Justinus was about twenty-four; he carried his wedded status lightly. He might not think of himself as handsome, but he was tall, dark, slim and very slightly self-deprecating. He struck strangers as easy-going; women found him sensitive. He could talk himself into anyone's confidence. There would be naive teenage barmaids queuing up to talk to him. I knew, and I was certain he remembered, that the golden-haired women of the northern world would readily let themselves be persuaded that this grave young Roman was wonderful.

How my conscience would square that next time I saw his Claudia (a shy brunette, incidentally) could be dealt with in due course.

Much more difficult was how I would handle Helena, if anything should happen to her favourite brother.