Three Hands in The Fountain

XLIV

I was ready to despatch the desolate Milvia with even more harsh words, but we were interrupted by Julius Frontinus on one of his regular check-up visits. He patiently signalled that I should carry on. I explained to him briefly that the girl thought her missing mother might have been seized by our killer, and that she was begging our help. He probably deduced that I didn't believe the piteous tale, even before I muttered, 'One problem in a situation like this is that it gives people ideas. Every woman who stays out an hour longer than usual at market is liable to be put down as the next victim.'

'And the danger is that the real victims will be overlooked?' It was a long time since I had been employed by an intelligent client.

Helena tackled the girl. 'When members of families disappear, Milvia, the reasons tend to be domestic. In my experience things get touchy when a forceful widow comes to live with her in-laws. Have you had any family arguments recently?'

'Certainly not!'

'That seems rather unusual,' Frontinus commented, uninvited. I had forgotten that to reach his consulship he would first have held senior legal positions; he was used to interrupting evidence with scathing quips.

'Balbina Milvia,' I said, 'this is Julius Frontinus, the illustrious ex-Consul. I seriously advise you not to lie to him.'

She blinked. I had no doubt that her father had inveigled fairly senior members of the establishment to dine with him – drinking, gorging, accepting gifts and the attentions of dancing girls, or boys: what top-notch power-brokers call hospitality, though the spoilsport public tends to view it as bribery. A consul might be something new.

'Have there been any disagreements in your home?' repeated Frontinus coolly.

'Well – possibly.'

'Concerning what?'

Concerning Petronius Longus, I was prepared to bet. Flaccida was bound to have taken Milvia to task for canoodling with a member of a vigiles enquiry team. Then Flaccida had her fun passing on the news to Florius. Florius for his part might well blame Flaccida for the daughter's infidelity, either because he imagined she was condoning it or at least for bringing the girl up badly. There must have been a hurricane of bad feeling in that household.

Helena smiled at Frontinus. 'In case you feel you may have missed something, sir, I should explain we're dealing with a major hub of organised crime.'

'Something else that could benefit from a commission of enquiry,' I teased him.

'One thing at a time, Falco,' said the Consul, unabashed. I gazed at Milvia. 'If you really think your mother may be dead, you don't seem very upset.'

'I am hiding my grief bravely.'

'How stoical!' Perhaps she was thinking that she would become even richer if Mama had been despatched. Perhaps that was why she was so eager to know for sure.

Frontinus banged a finger on the table, grabbing the girl's attention. 'If your mother has been taken by the villain we are chasing, we shall pursue the matter with vigour. But if she has just gone to stay with a friend as the result of a tiff, you should not impede my enquiry with a trivial complaint. Now answer me: has there been such a tiff?'

'There may have been.' Milvia squirmed and stared at the floor. I had seen naughty schoolgirls wriggle more efficiently. But Milvia had never been to school. Gangsters' children don't mix well, and their loving parents don't want them to pick up nasty habits, let alone moral standards. Education had been lavished on Milvia through a series of tutors, presumably terrified ones. There was not much to show for their efforts. No doubt they took the money, bought a few sets of Livy to leave around the schoolroom, then spent the rest of the equipment budget on pornographic scrolls for themselves.

'Was this trouble between your mother and you? Or was your husband involved?' If Petronius failed me as a partner, I could do worse than let the ex-Consul take his place. He soon got his teeth into an interrogation, and appeared to be enjoying it. What a pity he was going to govern Britain. A real waste of talent.

Milvia wrung her expensive skirts between her heavily beringed little fingers. 'Mother and Florius did have a bit of a scene the other day.'

Frontinus looked down his nose. 'A scene?'

'Well, rather a terrible argument.'

'About what?'

'Oh… just a man I had been friendly with.'

'Well!' Frontinus sat up, like a judge who wanted to go home to lunch. 'Young woman, I have to warn you that your domestic situation is serious. If a man discovers that his wife has committed adultery, he is legally bound to divorce her.'

One thing that must have been drilled into Milvia was that, in order to hold on to her father's money, she and Florius must never part. She was no wide-eyed idealist ready to sacrifice her cash for the sake of true love with Petro. Milvia was too fond of her caskets of hard gemstones and her fine quality silver tableware. Blinking like a shy rabbit, she quavered, 'Divorce?'

Frontinus had noticed her hesitance. 'Otherwise the husband can be taken to court on a charge of acting as a pimp. Allowing a Roman matron to be dishonoured is something we don't tolerate – I assume you realise that if your husband actually catches you in bed with another man, he is entitled to draw a sword and kill you both?'

All this was true. It would ruin Florius. He was hardly going to run his wife and Petro through in the proper fit of maddened rage, and subjected to the ancient scandal laws about pimping he would become a laughing stock. 'I like the Consul's sense of humour,' I said openly to Helena.

She feigned disapproval. 'His sense of justice, you mean, Marcus Didius.'

'I prefer not to be the agent of marital disharmony,' Julius Frontinus told Milvia kindly. He was a tough old shoot. He had dealt with dim girlikins before. He could see beyond their glimmering silks and wide painted eyes, to just how dangerous they were. 'I shall overlook what I have heard today. I can see that you wish to preserve your marriage, so you will obviously end your affair with all speed. And we all say, very good luck to you!'

Milvia was stunned. Her extortionist family owned a battery of tame lawyers who were famously good at discovering outmoded statutes with which to hammer the innocent. It was something new to find herself the victim of antique legislation, let alone to be subjected to delicate blackmail by a high-ranking senator.

Frontinus seemed so sympathetic she must have wanted to squeal. 'As for your missing mother, you are clearly desolate without her. You must make every effort to discover whether she has taken refuge with a friend or relative. Falco will conduct enquiries on your behalf if time permits, but unless you produce proof that your mother has been abducted this is a private affair. There could be many other explanations. Though if a crime is thought to have been committed, surely that is a matter for the vigiles?'

'Oh, I can't go to them.'

Frontinus looked at me. 'They might not be very sympathetic, sir. They spend a great deal of time investigating crookery in which the missing woman is heavily involved. Flaccida will not be their favourite maiden in distress.'

'I need help,' Milvia wailed.

'Hire an informer then,' said Helena.

Milvia opened her rosebud mouth to wail that that was why she had come to me, then she registered the word 'hire'. A fee would not, of course, have been levied by Petronius. Do I have to pay you, Falco?'

'It is considered polite,' answered Helena. She did my accounts.

'Well, of course then,' pouted Milvia.

'In advance,' said Helena.

Frontinus looked amused. For our work on his formal enquiry, we were letting him pay in arrears.