Shadows in Bronze

LXIX

For the next three days I scoured the Bay in a hired vessel from Pompeii, a slow ship with a dull captain who could not, or would not, grasp my urgency. Once again I was searching for the Isis Africana and once again it seemed a waste of time. Every night I went back to the inn, exhausted and morose. Petronius started to regain consciousness late the first day, deeply quiet and puzzled at his own condition, yet essentially himself. Not even his gradual recovery comforted my bitter mood. As I expected, he could remember nothing about the attack.

On the third day I wrote to Rufus, offering to join forces. I told him what had happened, and named the new charge against Pertinax: attempted murder of a Roman watch captain, Lucius Petronius Longus. The boy who took my message returned, asking me to visit the Aemilius house. Larius drove me in Nero's cart.

Rufus was out. It was his sister who wanted to see me.

I met Aemilia Fausta in a cold room where the heavy shadow of a walnut tree outside fell across the open shutter. She looked smaller and thinner than ever. Her pallor was increased by the unflattering tones of an insipid aquamarine gown.

I was annoyed. 'I expected your brother. Did he get my letter?' Anticipating my reaction, she nodded guiltily. 'I see! But he'll manage the hunt without me?'

'My brother says informers have no part in civic life-'

'Your brother says too much!' I let her see I was angry; I had wasted a journey, and lost a day of my search.

'I am sorry,' Aemilia Fausta interrupted carefully, 'about your friend. Was he badly hurt, Falco?'

‘Whoever hit him wanted to crack someone's skull apart.'

'His?'

‘Mine.'

‘Will he recover?'

'We hope so. I can't say more.'

She was sitting bolt upright in a wicker chair, a long fringed scarf twisted across her lap. She had a numb expression and her voice sounded colourless.

'Falco, is it certain the attacker was Pertinax Marcellus?' 'No one else has a motive. Plenty of people dislike me; but not enough to want me dead!'

'My brother,' she went on, 'believes it is an advantage that Crispus and Pertinax are together now-'

'Your brother's wrong. Pertinax has lost all sense of morality; these wild attacks – and there have been others – show the full extent of his breakdown. Crispus just needs his big ideas trimmed.'

'Yes, Falco,' Fausta agreed quietly.

Giving her a thoughtful scrutiny I said, 'Vespasian disagrees with his politics, and you don't like his private life – but that does not affect his potential for public service.'

'No,' she acknowledged, with a sad smile.

My scalp tingled expectantly. 'Are you offering me some information, lady?'

'Perhaps. My brother has arranged to meet Crispus with a view to arresting Pertinax. I am frightened what may happen. Sextus can be impetuous-'

'Sextus? Oh, your brother! I gather Pertinax is unaware they have arranged this friendly rendezvous?' I wondered if Aufidius Crispus had now made his choice: to secure Vespasian's favour by handing over the fugitive. (Or whether he was simply shedding himself of an embarrassment before he made his own bid for the throne.) Meanwhile, in some way he would probably bungle, Aemilius Rufus was attempting to snatch Pertinax so he could roll into Rome covered with glory… In this high-flown project I noticed nobody was planning any active role for me. 'Aemilia Fausta, where is the meeting?'

'At sea. My brother left before lunch for Misenum.'

I frowned. 'He would be wise not to trust the fleet. Crispus has close associates among the trierarchs-'

'So,' confided Aemilia Fausta, more drily, 'has my brother!'

'Ah!' I said.

Darting off at a tangent, the lady abruptly enquired, 'Is there anything I can send to help your friend and his family?'

'Nothing special. Thanks for the thought…'

As in most things, Fausta seemed to expect rebuff. 'You think it's none of my business.'

'Correct,' I said. A thought crossed my mind which I dismissed as disloyal to Petronius.

I could see that Aemilia Fausta would be just the type to jump straight from her passionate infatuation with Crispus to a single-minded crush on anyone so foolish as to listen to her troubles. This scenario was no new one. Being a big, tolerant type (who loved something dainty to cuddle on his knee), my tentmate Petronius had left in his wake many fervent little ladies who regarded him as their saviour for reasons I was too embarrassed to enquire about. He usually stayed friends with them. So he would not want me to quarrel with Fausta on his behalf.

I suggested, 'There is something you can do, in fact. Petronius could survive a journey now; I need to get him home. Could you lend the family a couple of decent litters to travel comfortably? Even better, persuade your brother to supply an armed guard? He'll see the point. Then I can send Helena Justina back to the city in safety too…' Fausta nodded gratefully. 'Now, I need to move swiftly. At sea" you say. Can you be more specific about this rendezvous?'

'Will you promise me Aufidius Crispus will be safe?'

'I never give promises that are outside my control. But my commission was to save him for Rome… So, where is the meeting?'

'At Capreae,' she said. 'This afternoon. Below the Imperial Villa of Jove.'