Caveat emptor

50

As Ruso approached, the money changer’s eyes went straight to the clenched fist that was hiding Asper’s bag of cash, then flicked away as if he had noticed nothing. Satto propped his elbows on the counter, clasped both hands together, and rested his chin on them. “Welcome back, investigator. Congratulations. I hear the murderer stands accused and the tax will be paid. So what else can I do for you?”

When they were alone Ruso said, “I’m just weaving in a few loose ends.”

“And would that have something to do with what’s hidden in your hand?”

Ruso was not sure how far the man could be trusted. On the other hand, if he went to Londinium to consult the procurator’s officials, he might not be allowed back. He brought his fist up over the counter and straightened his fingers. The little bag landed on the surface and slumped sideways.

Satto smiled.

Moments later Ruso watched in awe as the trick he had pretended to perform at the Blue Moon was enacted in front of him. Satto was sorting the coins into two piles, muttering, “Yes,” and “No,” and occasionally, “Hm,” as he pondered a coin, peered at it, weighed it against another, and even held it up to his nose and sniffed it. Eventually there were thirty-nine coins in the “Good” pile, seven classed as “No,” and one about which he seemed unable to decide. Reaching under the counter, he produced a small hammer and some sort of awl. He flipped the coin over. “Better not make a hole in the emperor,” he observed before tapping the awl into the surface.

He handed the result across the counter. Where the damage was done, Ruso could see a glint of something beneath the surface that was not silver. That made eight fakes out of forty-six. He wondered which sort of coin Tilla had spent this afternoon, and how Camma would take the news that a sizeable chunk of Asper’s savings had just disappeared.

“You could say,” said Satto, dropping the coin on the “No” pile, “That as long as everybody thinks it’s worth something, then it is. Only I wouldn’t agree with you because I can tell the difference.”

“Do you ever get asked to pretend not to notice?”

“I can’t pretend not to know what I know.”

Ruso was not sure if he had just been given a lesson in coinage or in philosophy.

“Where did you get this money?”

Ruso had anticipated the question. “Londinium.”

The man’s face betrayed nothing as he raked the “No” pile toward his side of the counter. “I’m sorry to say that someone in Londinium has swindled you. Julius Asper brought me a false coin from the same source a few months ago. If you can trace the forgers, they’ll be put before the governor and executed.”

“They?”

“It usually takes two men. One to hold the dies in position with tongs, one to bring down the hammer for the stamping. That’s always assuming one of them is the engraver, which isn’t always the case-it’s skilled work.”

Ruso watched the “No” pile being placed on a workbench at the back of the office. “Don’t I get them back?”

“It’s my duty to destroy false coins. I also destroyed the one Asper showed me.”

“I’ll have to track down these people in Londinium once I’ve finished here. Tell me how they make the forgeries.”

“These? A thin layer of silver stamped over a core of bronze. Sometimes they use iron, but there is the problem of rust.”

“And they make the core-how?”

“Usually in a clay mold: not as easy as it sounds. Your next question is, how does he engrave the dies for stamping the coin?”

“Yes.”

“And the answer is, not quite well enough. The S on HADRIANUS is damaged: I’d guess the engraver got confused when he was trying to reverse the shape and then had to correct it.” Satto picked up something that looked like a chisel. He placed a coin on the bench and aligned the edge of the chisel with its center. “But they are quite good,” he said, reaching for the hammer. “I wouldn’t like the procurator to think I was keeping them.”

The sound of the hammer smacking into the head of the chisel must have been heard outside in the Hall. Ruso wondered what the guards would make of it.

Only when he had finished mangling Ruso’s evidence did Satto say, “You should know that if Rome doesn’t send enough small change, a man who makes bronze coins is helping the soldiers spend their wages and his neighbors buy their bread.”

“Does that happen?”

“Not these days. And I’m talking about bronze, not silver. All I’m saying is, good men have made coins as well as bad.”

Ruso got to his feet. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

Satto handed him half of one of the ruined coins. “Two more things you should know, investigator. The first is that apart from the one Asper showed me, I’ve never seen denarii like these before in Verulamium.”

“And the other?”

“If a forger is caught, he has nothing to lose.”