Medicus

66

At Merula’s most of the lunchtime customers had gone, leaving only a few hangers-on who had nowhere better to go, or else no inclination to go there. Tomorrow would be different, insisted Stichus as he palmed the coins Ruso had just borrowed from Valens. Tomorrow was payday. Stichus indicated the girls seated around the bar. Today, a customer could take his pick.

Ruso was glad there were few witnesses to see Chloe rise from the table with a smile, slide her hand into his, and lead him up the stairs.

The cubicle was, he knew, the best the place had to offer. The wide bed was strewn with plump blue cushions. Chloe pulled the door shut behind them and the yellow glow of a lamp rose to help the light that struggled in through a small pane of bubbly glass. Ruso found himself trying to work out a tangle of naked bodies painted on the walls in various uncomfortable-looking combinations as Chloe's arms slid around his waist. He felt her breath against his ear. "I knew you'd change your mind," she murmured.

Ruso grasped both her hands and held them still. He opened his mouth to speak and found himself suddenly hoarse, but managed, "I just want to talk."

"You can talk to me," whispered Chloe, nuzzling the back of his neck. "I'm a good listener. It's nice and private here. You can tell me anything you want." He felt a gentle push toward the bed. "Let's get comfortable, shall we?"

As he felt himself sink into the cushions, he reasoned that it would do no harm. Chloe was very attractive. She was warm. She was willing. She was a professional, and he had paid. He could always talk to her afterward.

She was curled around him on the bed, pressing herself against him. He glanced down to watch her foot sliding up his thigh. The charms on her ankle bracelet trembled with each movement. Her skin was smooth. Her toes were perfect. She was nibbling his ear.

Ruso closed his eyes. At last: a woman who understood what he needed. What he deserved. And the beauty of it was, there was no commitment. He could have this whenever he wanted. Because this was a professional service. A business transaction. Like the buying of someone's hair…

Restraining Chloe's exploring hand, he pulled himself up to sit with his back against the wall. "When I said I wanted to talk," he growled, hoping there was no one listening behind the door, "that's what I meant."

Chloe arched her back and stretched, draping herself across his lap and looking up at him. "But you're so nice," she said, pursing her lips and miming a kiss.

"No," he said, heaving at her shoulders to lift her away from him. "I'm not nice. And I'm tired of being lied to."

She swung her legs off the bed and sat up. "Suit yourself."

"Do you know where Tilla is?"

"No." She bent to fiddle with one of the pins that held her curls in place. "Is that it? Can I go now?"

"No. Is she here?"

Chloe pushed the pin back into place and sighed. "You don't learn, do you?" She turned to face him. "It was you who told them about Phryne, wasn't it?"

When Ruso said nothing, she continued, "Well, you were a big help to her. She'd tell you how much herself if she was well enough to receive visitors."

"Is she all right?"

"Of course she's not all right."

"I could-"

"You've caused enough trouble already. Lucky for her, it's payday coming up. They aren't stupid here. She'll be fit to work by tomorrow."

Ruso found himself staring at the tangle of bodies painted on the walls. For a girl in a place like this, being fit to work was a dubious blessing. Perhaps the child had indeed pretended to be stolen in the vain hope of escape. Or perhaps he had been right the first time: The whole thing had been a story concocted by Tilla to cover her own escape. He no longer knew whom to believe. "Chloe," he said, "do you think Tilla's run away?"

"I don't know."

"The last person to see her was Bassus. He said she came here while you were out at the baths."

"Well, she's not here now. Ask him where she went."

"Are you not telling me because you don't know, or because you're afraid?"

She gave a snort of derision. "You know the first thing you learn in this place? Never show fear. Something Phryne needs to learn. And you know the second thing? Mind your own business."

"If one of your management's done something to Tilla…"

Chloe shook her head. "I can tell you one thing about Bassus, Doctor. He won't damage anything that might turn him a profit."

"I heard that somebody here hurt Daphne."

"So? You don't have to be much of a talker to do this job. They'll have her back to work after they've sold the baby."

Ruso took a deep breath. "And what about Asellina? Or Saufeia? Did they really run away, or were they allowed out like you are?" He paused. "Do the girls do home visits? Private parties, that sort of thing?"

"What's that got to do with Tilla? It's you she's run away from, not us."

"Because she's missing like the other two. And the only thing that links them all is this place. What's going on here, Chloe?"

Chloe stared at him for a moment, then got to her feet. "I don't know what you think you're stirring up," she said, "but I don't want anything to do with it." She stepped forward and lifted the latch on the door. "Time's up." She walked out onto the landing. "Get out now, or I'll call the boys. And don't come here again."

Chloe's sandals clattered away down the stairs. Ruso sighed, gave a parting glance at the tangled bodies-the participants looked depressingly bored-and followed her down to the bar.

"Bassus!"

The man turned. "Back again, eh? Come to pay your bill?"

"Come for a chat," said Ruso. "Can we go somewhere private?"

"No thanks. You're not my type."

Ruso shrugged. "I can say it in front of everyone, if you like."

Bassus glanced around. The bar held four members of the staff, three customers, and, in a cage beside one of them, a jackdaw. Bassus jerked a thumb toward the door. "Outside."

On the way out they passed Stichus. "You're getting soft," Bassus told him. "Letting bloody caged birds in."

"It talks," retorted Stichus.

"Show me something round here that don't."

"Daphne," suggested Stichus, with what he clearly thought was wit.

"Take a walk a minute, Stich? Me and the doc have got business."

Stichus retreated into the bar. Bassus leaned against the painted wall, folded his arms, and glowered at the woman behind the bakery counter as if he were daring her to eavesdrop. "Make it quick," he said. "I'm a busy man."

"So am I," said Ruso. "But you said next time I had a problem to come to you. So here I am."

Bassus sighed. "What is it now?"

"I still haven't found Tilla."

"How many times have I got to say it? I don't know where she is! If I knew, I'd tell you. I got a couple of nice buyers lined up. If she don't turn up soon I'm going to have to let them down."

"But in the course of looking for her, I've run across some troubling information."

There was barely a hesitation before he said, "And this information would be?"

"I'll get to that in a minute. I'm trying to stop Tilla from meeting the same fate as the other two runaways. Tell me, is it true that Saufeia wasn't much good at her job?"

"What's that got to do with it? She was useless. Even when she was trying, which weren't often."

"And what do you do with girls who don't please the customers?"

"Sell them, of course."

Ruso nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Sounds to me like you thought we take them out back and strangle them."

"What I can't understand," said Ruso, "is why her hair was all shorn off. She wouldn't do it herself if she was planning to work the streets or run away with a lover, and Merula certainly wouldn't do it if she was planning to sell her."

Bassus shrugged. "Sorry. Can't help you there."

"What I'm thinking," explained Ruso, watching him carefully, "and correct me if I'm wrong, is that it must have been done after she was dead. Perhaps not by the murderer, but by someone else who knew him. Who might be able to point me in his direction." He paused. "Someone who then went and sold the hair."

Bassus was staring at the pavement opposite, scratching his neck with one finger.

"If something's happened to Tilla," said Ruso, "I want to know about it."

Bassus continued to ponder for a moment. Finally he gave a sigh.

"All right. This is it. I don't know nothing about Tilla but I know a bit about the other thing. You keep your mouth shut, agreed?"

"Agreed."

"When Merula noticed Saufeia weren't around, me and Stich took a couple of torches and went to look. We found her in a back alley."

"Which back alley?"

"Over by the amphitheater. Propped sitting up in a corner like she was waiting for somebody. The bastard had only just got away. I reckon he heard us coming. She was still warm."

"You didn't call for help?"

Bassus looked him in the eye. "I know dead when I see it, Doc. Besides… I'm not known for being a patient man. Twenty-five years in the legion, I believe in discipline, see? People don't know what we have to put up with, with these girls. Strangled runaway, dark night, back alley-who'd have believed us?"

"But she was your own slave." Executing one's own slaves was officially frowned upon, but fellow slaves were not in a position to complain and it was hard to see who else would bother.

"She weren't ours," explained Bassus. "She belonged to the business.

And if Merula thought we'd done it she'd have gone mad." He paused. "I know what you're thinking. We should've just walked away. I wish I had. Only Stich, he decides to be clever."

This seemed an unlikely proposition, but Ruso let it pass.

"He says, if we just leave her here, then some greedy bastard's going to find her and nick all her fancy clothes and everything. What all belong to the bar. That hair was worth something too. So we took what was ours and we give her a decent send-off."

"In the river?"

"We weren't to know she'd come back, were we? But we didn't kill her. I swear. And I don't know who did."

Ruso nodded. "And would you know anything about an accident happening to someone who asked too many questions?"

Bassus folded his arms. "Could be arranged. Who you thinking of?"

"Never mind." If the man had known anything about the fire or the incident with the trowel, he was a good actor. "One last question. Do you knowT anything about a letter?"

There was a slight pause before he said, "What letter?"

"There's a rumor that Saufeia wrote to somebody. I know she was telling everyone she wouldn't be here much longer. I assume she was arranging to meet someone."

Bassus shook his head. "I don't know nothing about no letter," he said. "And she wouldn't have been here much longer 'cause we'd have traded her on. But your Tilla couldn't be writing to nobody, that I do know. Look. Asellina was unlucky. Saufeia run into a customer what didn't want to pay, and whoever he was he didn't bother taking her far to finish her. If he'd got your Tilla you'd have found her by now. I reckon she's run off, like it says in the notices. You ask me, you want to stop wasting time poking around with dead tarts and hire yourself a slave hunter."