Ruso and the Root of All Evils

45

Tilla had wandered off somewhere by the time Ruso woke. She would be with Cass or Galla, keeping out of Arria’s way. Lucius was nowhere to be seen either: probably sleeping off last night’s wine and bad behaviour. Ruso was not sorry. He had nothing amicable to say to him, and he did not want any more discussions about Who, How or Why. He knew the answers now. What he did not know was what he was going to do about them.

Before Ruso could dismount from the mule, the one-eyed gatekeeper silenced the dog with ‘Oi, Brutus!’ and said, ‘Miss Claudia’s not here, sir.’

‘You mean she’s not on the premises, or she’s not allowed to see me?’

The eye met Ruso’s own. ‘I wouldn’t want to lie to you, sir.’

‘But you would, if you were ordered to.’

The scars folded around a grin. ‘I would, sir. Miss Claudia’s not here. Can I say something, sir?’

The man’s attitude seemed to have warmed considerably since the last visit, perhaps as a result of Ruso’s conversation with Flaccus the kitchen-boy. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Some of us hope you get away with it.’

‘It wasn’t me!’

The one eye blinked slowly, and Ruso realized the man was winking at him.

‘It wasn’t!’

‘If you say so, sir. You might want to know the investigators have arrived, sir.’

Ruso stared into the eye. ‘That’s impossible. The message was only sent a couple of days ago.’

‘Turns out they were just down the road in Aquae Sextiae, sir. On some other business for the Senator.’

This was not only bad news, it was an amazing coincidence. ‘Are you sure?’

‘One of ’em’s a smartarse called Calvus,’ the doorman told him. ‘His mate’s just here to provide some muscle.’ Before Ruso could ask how he knew, the man added, ‘I haven’t got no instructions to lie about them, sir, see? I just let them in a minute ago. If you want to talk to them, I’ll go and ask.’

‘No thanks,’ said Ruso, gathering up the reins of the mule. He urgently needed to talk with Claudia but the last thing he intended to do was to walk straight into the arms of the official investigators.

Ruso turned the mule and was just persuading it into a trot when the man called, ‘Hold on a minute, sir, I was wrong. Miss Claudia’s here after all.’

Claudia was there, but so was the gatekeeper, and behind her he could see Zosimus the steward hurrying towards them. The conversation he needed to have with her would be impossible. The best he could do was to beckon her outside the gatehouse and respond to her frantic ‘Gaius, there are men here asking questions!’ with ‘Have you been lying to me?’

‘Me? No! Ennia’s the one who tells lies. All this nonsense about the marvellous boyfriend in Rome? I said why doesn’t he come and fetch her, then, and it turns out he’s been dead for years! She only wants to go back there because nobody here will have her.’

‘Claudia, listen. I’ve talked to the root-cutter.’

‘Who?’ Claudia’s face was impressively blank.

He glanced over his shoulder. There was no time to be subtle. ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’

‘What? What was me?’

He was not going to pretend he had to explain.

The manicured nails dug into his arms. ‘Who’s been telling you lies?’

‘He described you.’

‘Who? Gaius, what are you talking about?’

Suddenly he felt weary. ‘Just tell the truth, Claudia. Please. For the sake of the staff. The investigators will find out sooner or later anyway.’

‘But I didn’t — ’

Her protest was cut off by the arrival of Zosimus, backed up by the gatekeeper and the gatekeeper’s dog. Ruso was not allowed on to the Senator’s property. An official inquiry was under way. If he had anything to say, he could say it to the investigators when they were ready. In the meantime, he was to stop harassing the bereaved family.

Ruso had never seen Claudia look so frightened as when Zosimus escorted her back towards the gate.