"The Silver Pigs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Lindsey)

IV

The law settled his breathing-rate after the stairs.

"Do come in," I said mildly. "It's not locked."

He was in. He collapsed at the other end of my bench. "Have a seat," I offered.

"Falco, you villain! This is an improvement!" He gave me a slow grin. Petronius Longus, patrol captain of the Aventine watch. A big, placid, sleepy-looking man with a face people trusted probably because it gave so little away.

Petronius and I went back a long time. We joined the army on the same day, finding each other in the queue to take the oath to the Emperor, and finding too that we had been brought up only five streets apart. We were tent mates for seven years and when we came home we had another thing in common: we were veterans of the Second Augustan Legion in Britain. Not only that, we were veterans of the Second at the time of Queen Boudicca's Revolt against Rome. So because of the Second's abysmal performance, we both left the army eighteen years early and we both had something we never wanted to talk about.

"Poke your eyes back in," I told him. "Her name's Helena."

"Hello, Helena. What a pretty name! Falco, where did you find that?"

"Running a foot race round the Temple of Saturn." I had chosen to answer with such simple honesty because there was a slim chance Petronius already knew. Besides, I wanted the girl to believe she was dealing with a man who told the truth.

I introduced the watch captain to my dazzling client: "Petronius Longus, district patrolman; the best."

"Good evening, sir," she said.

I guffawed bitterly. Take a job in local government, women will call you "sir"I Sweetheart, there's no need to overdo it."

Take no notice of this tricky character," Petronius scoffed in his easy way, smiling at her with an interest I did not altogether like.

She smiled back at him, so I clipped tersely, "We men want to gossip with a wine jug; go into the bedroom and wait for me."

She shot me a look, but she went. That's the benefit of a liberal education, this little girl knew she lived in a man's world. Besides, she had pretty manners and it was my house.

"Nice!" approved Petronius, in a low voice.

He has a wife, who for some reason adores him. He never refers to her, but must care about her; he's the type who would. They have three daughters, and like a good Roman father he is utterly sentimental about his girls. I could see a day coming when the Tullianum jail would be crammed with frightful young sprogs who had cast their beady eyes at Petro's girls.

I produced two wine cups which looked clean, though I polished up Petro's on the hem of my tunic before I clonked them on the table. In the hole under a floorboard that passed for my wine cellar I had some smoked Spanish poison that was a gift from a grateful client, some new dusky red that tasted as if it had been robbed from an Etruscan tomb, and a well-aged amphora of decent white Setinum. Since Petro's visit was so awkwardly timed, I wavered over acting casual and just serving the Etruscan, but in the end I settled for the Setinum because we were old friends and anyway I fancied some myself.

As soon as he tasted it, he knew he was being bribed.

He said nothing. We drained several cups. The time came when a chat seemed unavoidable.

"Listen," he broached. "There's a hue and cry for a little gold-hemmed skirt who was lifted from a senator's house this morning, don't ask me why"

"Want me to keep an eye out?" I suggested, perking up cheerily, though I could see he was not deceived. "Heiress, is she?"

"Shut up, Falco. She was spotted later in the clutch of some slavering ghoul whose description uncannily fits yours. Her name is Sosia Camillina, she's strictly off limits, and I want her put back where she came from before we have some praetor's pet helpers crawling all over my patch passing rude remarks on the way I run the markets… That her in there?" He nodded at the bedroom doorway.

I owned up meekly. "Imagine it must be."

I liked him; he was good at his job. We both knew he had found his lost kitten.

I explained about her in a way that laid a great deal of emphasis on my gallant role as rescuer of frantic nobility, and (in view of Petro's earlier remark) less on me wrecking market stalls. It seemed best not to place him in any awkward dilemmas.

I'll have to take her back," Petro said. He was nicely drunk.

I'll take her," I promised. "Do me a favour. If you go it's Thanks for doing your duty, officer; for me they may stretch to a small reward. Split?"

Lubricated by a good wine, my crony Petronius becomes a gentleman. Not many men are so considerate of the profit and loss columns of M Didius Falco's personal accounts.

"Oh…" He tipped his cup wryly. This will do me. Give me your word."

I gave him my word and the rest of the Setinum, then he went away happy.

I had no real intention of giving her back.

Well… not yet.