"Scandal takes a Holiday" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Lindsey)

VIII

Next day I went back to the scribe's lodging, this time in the morning. With luck, the landlady would be out then, and I could ask her new tenant to show me the scribe's room. I left Helena continuing her task of reading old copies of the Gazette. She was doing this in the presence of our daughters. Julia Junilla, aged three last month, could start a riot that required quelling by the urban cohorts when she felt obstinate; at the moment she was playing cute. She did it with style and my heart melted. Sosia Favonia, a sombre thug of only fourteen months, was standing up naked in her crib, having learned how she could pull herself upright even as it rocked. Next trick. falling out and cutting her head open. Still, Albia had laid a rag rug beside the crib to limit the damage. In order to read, Helena resorted to the old wheeze; she produced a new toy, [all the doll, ball, hoop, whistle and wooden animal makers in Rome knew and adored us, then she moved away quietly as the children grew absorbed. She was safe with her scrolls until the next screaming quarrel started. I kissed the girls. They ignored me; they were used to me leaving home. Sometimes they seemed to think I was just the greengrocer's delivery boy. No; he would have been more exciting. With Nux darting through my ankles in an attempt to trip me up, I returned to the Marine Gate. It was a long way to walk, only to find the new tenant was out. Depressed, I went to knock on the landlady's door, and at this point the Fates took pity. She was out too, so I finally met her all-duties slave, Titus. A snub-nosed, scar-faced rascal in a loose-fit one-shouldered tunic, this Titus had been kept away from me on previous calls. He was sharp as a nail; like all his tribe he knew exactly his value to a man in need. The pittance the Gazette scribes were paying me would not go far around many like Titus, but according to him he was unique. So that was all right. It was Titus who had actually cleared the room after Diocles went missing.

Excellent news. Now earn those tinkling coppers you just squeezed out of me, Titus. I know what Diocles is supposed to have left behind, a few used tunics and some empty note-tablets. Now you tell me what else was there, and don't hold back."

Are you saying I nicked something?" Titus demanded indignantly. Always eager to join in a rumpus, Nux walked over and sniffed him. The slave eyed her uneasily.

You are entitled to perks, young fellow."

Well, that's how I see it." He settled down. Nux lost interest. He had a couple of other tunics, clean ones. As he wasn't coming back, I had them off him."

Sold in the second-hand market?"

Too right."

Diocles came to Ostia for the summer," I mused. He wouldn't have walked in with just one knapsack and a packet of squid dumplings, but even if he did."

What you saying, Falco?"

Where did his knapsack walk off to?"

He had two. I got a good price for them."

Were they empty?"

Oh yes." It sounded true. I looked at him steadily. I shook them out, Falco."

Where did his cash go, then?" Titus shrugged. No idea, honest." There was no point pressing it. I noticed the slave had not asked me, what cash?

How much luggage did he have when he first arrived? Would you say Diocles could have moved gear to some other lodging?"

What he brought with him was left when he bunked off. A stool, and stuff

Forget the stool!" I had retrieved it. The folding stool was wobbly and I had pinched my finger when trying it out. Was there a weapon?" I growled.

No, sir!" Now that was wrong. In Rome it is illegal to go armed [not that that stops people] but when travelling we all tool up. I knew from Holconius and Mutatus that Diocles always carried a dagger, and sometimes he took a sword too. The other scribes had told me these were standard precautions, in case he ran into an offended husband or a furious wife's huge whip-wielding driver. I don't want them back, and I won't report you, Titus. I just need to know."

There was none."

Right."

You don't believe me!"

I believe you." I believed no slave would ever confess to stealing anything with which he could arm himself, even if he had sold on the weapon. Slaves and swords don't mix.

So is that it?" asked Titus, looking hopeful.

Almost. But since the new tenant has gone out, I'll have you show me the room, please." Knowing he was on shaky ground over the stolen goods, Titus agreed to this. But we found that while I had been talking to Titus, the tenant had returned. He was a run-down furtive corn factor, now sitting on his narrow bed eating a cold pie. Nux ran in as if she owned the place and he jumped up looking guilty; maybe the landlady forbade food indoors. While he recovered, being mainly ashamed that he had gravy all down him, I showed I was tough. I searched the room, without bothering to ask permission. The corn factor must have known that the previous tenant had vanished; patiently he let me do what I wanted. He and Titus watched, as I went into all the special places where travellers hide things in hired rooms, from obviously, under the mattress, to more subtly, on the top of the window-frame. The floorboards were all well nailed down. The wall cupboard was empty apart from dirt and a dead wasp. I found nothing. I ordered Nux to search, which as usual she declined to do, preferring to sit staring at the factor's pastry. I thanked him for making his facilities available. He offered me a bite of pie, but my mother brought me up to decline food from strangers. I dragged Nux and Titus outside, put the dog on a string to stop her going back inside to beg for food, then grilled the slave further. I wanted to know Diocles" habits. Did he sit in his room waiting for an earthquake to happen, like that quiet soul you're renting to now?"

No, Diocles nipped in and out all the time."

Sociable?"

He was looking for work, he said, Falco. He kept going off and trying places. Never had no luck, though." As a slave, who would make a copper on the side whenever possible, Titus did not think this odd when Diocles was already employed. Where did he apply?"

All sorts, I think. He went to the docks, of course. Everyone does. All the jobs there are well sewn up. Once or twice he hired a mule and trotted off to the countryside; he must have fancied lettuce picking. He wanted to be a hod-carrier one week, but he was no good at it and they kicked him out. Vulcan's breath, I reckon he even tried joining up for the vigiles!" That was a facer. Surely not?"

No, you're right, Falco; he must have been ragging me. No one is that daft."

Anything else?"

Not that I can think of."

Well, thanks, Titus. You've given me a picture of his movements." It was a faint picture, and one in which Diocles had either gone nuts and was trying to run off to another life or had laid a false trail to hide whatever sensational story he was looking into as Infamia. Several false trails, by the sound of it. I was not quite discounting the first possibility. The man had disappeared. Whatever the other scribes thought about Diocles being irresponsible and whatever I suspected about his work having gone wrong, he could still have deliberately chosen to vanish. People do run off without warning. For no obvious reason, some decide to start afresh and it is often in a new role that would amaze their friends. I had an uncle who bunked off like that, my mother's eldest brother. He had been even more odd than her other two weird brothers, Fabius and Junius. Now he was the one nobody talked about any more.