Three Hands in The Fountain

XXXI

'You like a challenge; you can start,' I told Petronius. 'No; you're the expert with unpleasant hap,' he courteously replied.

'Well, you choose,' I invited Pia. 'Which of us?'

'Stuff you both.' She stretched her legs, letting us see them. It would have been better if they had been cleaner and not so sturdy in the knee.

'Nice pins!' Petronius lied in his light, admiring tone. The one they believed for about three seconds before they noticed it came with a sneer.

'Get lost.'

'Play us a new tune, darling.'

'How long did you know Asinia?' I threw in. Petronius and I would share the questioning between us and it was my turn now.

'Years and years.' Despite her bluster she could not resist answering.

'How did you first meet?'

'When she was serving in the shop.'

'The chandlery? Were you sent there shopping?' I had guessed, though refrained from saying, that Pia was a slave at the time. She must be independent now, though hardly in funds.

'We liked a chat.'

'And to go to the Games together?'

'No harm in that.'

'No harm at all – if you really went.'

'We did!' It came out fast and indignant. So far the tale was true.

'Did Asinia have a boyfriend?' Petronius took over. 'Not her.'

'Not one she hadn't told even you about?'

'I'd like to see her try. She couldn't keep a secret, that one. Not that she ever wanted to.'

'She loved her husband?'

'More fool her. Have you met him? He's a weed.'

'His wife is missing. It's understandable.' Wasting his breath, Petronius reproved the girl, while she just wound her grubby fingers annoyingly in her tousled hair. 'So nobody came with you, and Asinia didn't meet anyone afterwards? Then you'd better talk about what happened when you came out from the Circus.'

'Nothing happened.'

'Something happened to Asinia,' I said, taking over again. 'Nothing's happened to her.'

'She's dead, Pia.'

'You're fooling me.'

'Somebody killed her and cut her up in bits. Don't worry; we'll find her gradually, though it may take a few years.'

She had gone pale. She looked far away. Obviously Pia was thinking It could have been me!

Lindsey Davis

Three Hands in The Fountain

Petronius resumed harshly: 'Who did she meet, Pia?' 'Nobody.'

'Don't lie. And don't be afraid we'll tell Caius Cicurrus. We can be discreet, if need be. We want the true story. Whoever Asinia took off with is a dangerous killer; only you can get him stopped.'

'Asinia was a good girl.' We said nothing. 'She really was,' Pia insisted. 'She didn't go off with anyone; I did. I met someone. Asinia said she'd go home.'

'Here?'

'No. I needed to bring my man back here, stupid! She was going back to her own place.'

'How was she getting there?'

'Walking. She said she didn't mind.'

'I thought the pair of you hired a litter? Cicurrus thinks that's what happened. You told him you came with Asinia all the way to her own door.'

'We'd spent our cash. Anyway, it was late. The Circus was turning out. All the hired chairs were gone.'

'So you left her alone,' I barked. 'This good girl who was such an old friend of yours, knowing that she had to find her way through crowds of raucous revellers and walk halfway to the Pincian?'

'She wanted to,' the girl insisted. 'Asinia was like that. She would do anything for anyone. She saw I was set up, so she got out of the way.'

'Did she help you chat up your fellow?' asked Petro. 'No.'

'Was she used to talking to men?'

'No. She was useless.'

'But pretty?'

'Oh yes! She drew the looks. She never noticed them looking, though.'

'Was she too trusting?'

'She knew enough.'

'Apparently not!' Petro rasped angrily. He made a disgusted movement and handed the interrogation back to me.

'Who was the man you met, Pia?'

'How should I know? He could have been from anywhere. I'd never seen him before. He was drunk, and he didn't have any money. I'm stupid that way. If I meet him again I'll have his balls.'

'Young love, eh? I'm a sucker for a sentimental story. Would you know him?'

'No.'

'Sure of it?'

'I'd had plenty of wine myself. Believe me, he wasn't worth remembering.'

'So where exactly was the last Place you saw Asinia?' 'At the Circus Max.'

'Where? Which exit did you use?'

Pia threw back her shoulders and addressed me distinctly as if I was deaf. 'I last saw Asinia by the Temple of the Sun and Moon.' That was clear enough. Then she spoilt it with a rethink. 'Tell a lie – she was walking down the Street of the Three Altars.'

The Street of the Three Altars runs from the apsidal endof the Circus, near the Temple of Sol and Luna which Pia had mentioned, up to the Clivus Scaurus. The Clivus Scaurus goes past the Temple of the Divine Claudius as far as the ancient Arch of Dolabella, now used as a reservoir for the Aqua Claudia. That was where Asinia's hand had been found.

I wondered if it was significant, or just some terrible poignant coincidence, that the missing woman was last seen so near where her dismembered hand later ended up. How far had she travelled in between? I wondered drearily if we would ever know.

I gazed at Pia sourly. 'So Asinia turned off on her long trek northwards and you came here. How many people were in the Street of the Three Altars?'

'Hundreds, of course. It was turning out time… Well, quite a lot.'

'No litters, you said? Any other vehicles?'

'Only private stuff.'

'Stuff?'

'You know – loads of big bollocks in their sharp carriages. It was well after curfew.'

'How many carriages?'

'Oh, hardly any.' Self-contradiction was her speciality. 'It's the wrong end. The nobs like to be picked up at the starting gate or near the Imperial box. You know.'

'Afraid we don't,' Petro commented. 'The apsidal end of the Circus, after curfew, is far too rough for us.'

Pia gave him a withering look. It took more than the screwed-up face of a painted girl to diminish Petronius. 'Did you see Asinia speak to anyone?' I asked.

'No I didn't. Asinia wouldn't.'

'Anyone try to speak to her?'

'I just told you!'

'Somebody could have catcalled. It doesn't mean she answered them.'

'No,' said Pia.

'You're not being much help.' Petro decided it was time to be openly rude to her. 'What happened to her could have happened to you. It still could.'

'No chance. I'm not going to the Games again.'

'That's wise. But will you come with us one evening, about the time you left with Asinia, and see if we can spot anyone you recognise?'

'I'm not going near the place again.'

'Not even to help find your friend's killer?'

'It won't do any good.'

'How can you be certain?'

'I've lived in the world.'

Petro looked at me. If we let ourselves be as pessimistic as this cheap piece, we would give up. Perhaps we would never have started. Perhaps we never should have done – but we were in it now. Without his saying anything I guessed he intended to have Pia interviewed again by the vigiles in the hope they could put the frighteners on her. Cyclops Street where she lived must be in the First or Second districts; I wasn't sure offhand, but the boundary ran somewhere near the Porta Metrovia at the end of the street: all this territory belonged to the Fifth Cohort. If they hadn't heard that Petro had been suspended by Rubella he could probably get away with making the request 'officially'.

There was no incentive for us to carry on. The girl was painful to deal with.

Only as we were leaving did she become tearful and terrified. 'You didn't mean it, what you said about Asinia being dead?'

Petronius leaned in the doorway, thumbs in his belt. 'Unfortunately it's true. Want to tell us any more?'

'I don't know nothing else,' Pia retorted defiantly.

We went out, closing the door quietly. Petronius Longus walked steadily down half a flight of the stinking stairs. Then he stopped briefly. I looked at him. He chewed a finger reflectively.

'The silly bitch is lying,' he said.