Shadows in Bronze

LIV

Helena had vanished. I wanted to find her, but I had told Aufidius Crispus I would wait in the colonnade.

For no obvious reason, I started walking along the veranda, away from the main body of the house. Only when I was beyond the sounds of other people, where a few desultory lamps lit the shadows, did I stop.

I stood still, hearing sea water rippling against a small pier thrust out into the Bay. From what Crispus had said about me being an odd messenger, I knew that however approachable he had appeared at our interview, he despised me. So long as Vespasian employed me, Crispus would despise Vespasian too.

The weight of my inability to influence him was suddenly too much. I lost all faith in myself. I needed a friend to console me, but now that Helena had taken herself off I was completely alone.

Sharp footsteps rang in the distance. Crispus emerged swiftly from his room. He was in front of the main building; I was in one wing, further back from the sea. I could see him but he was too far away to catch as he strode off.

I could have called out. There was no point. He made no attempt to look for me. He had reached his decision: Vespasian's letter would receive no reply. I had believed the man could be deflected from his purpose; but if so, it was evident that the messenger who achieved this tricky task would not be me.

I never give up that easily. I set off after him.

The scene indoors had grown disorganized during my absence. I found no one with sufficient command of their senses to ask which direction Crispus had taken. Thinking he might be collecting Aemilia Fausta, I headed back to the triclinium where I had seen her last. She was there, still looking lonely; he was not.

This time she spotted me. 'Didius Falco!'

'Madam -' I stepped across the prone figures of several young gentlemen who had been having a better time tonight than their aristocratic constitutions could endure. 'Seen Crispus?'

'Not recently,' admitted Fausta, with a close look which implied suspicions relating to dancing girls. Feeling thwarted myself, I sat down to be sociable. 'You look depressed, Falco!'

'I am!' I leaned my elbows on my knees, rubbing my eyes. 'I deserve a rest; I want to go home; I need an affectionate woman to tuck me into bed with a beaker of milk!'

Fausta laughed. 'Nutmeg or cinnamon? In your milk?

I laughed too, reluctantly. 'Nutmeg, I think.'

'Oh yes; cinnamon turns grainy if it stands…' We had nothing in common. The pleasantries petered out.

'Seen Helena Justina?' I felt restless. I wanted to consult Helena about what had happened after she had left.

'Oh, Helena went off with my brother. Something far too private to need any witnesses!' Fausta warned me in an arch tone as I started to my feet. A knot formed in my windpipe; I tried to ignore it. The magistrate's sister smiled at me with a silkmess that said she was a hungry sea anemone and I was a drifting shrimp. 'Helena Justina will not thank you if you intrude-'

'She's used to it. I worked for her once.'

'Oh Falco, don't be so innocent!'

'Why?' I forced out, still making conversation. 'What's her secret?

‘She sleeps with my brother,' Fausta proclaimed.

I did not believe her. I knew Helena Justina better than that. There were many men Helena might let her fancy light upon, but I was absolutely certain that brilliant, blond, rangy, successful magistrates – who ignored their escorts at dinner parties – were not her type.

At that moment Helena and Aemilius Rufus came together into the room.

And I believed it after all.