A Body In The Bath House

by Lindsey Davis

  'I can see that.'

  'Jealous, Falco? When the troops were here thirty years ago, they must have quickly taught the natives what tough lads needed in the way of a brothel and a couple of dingy drinking dives. You can get several colours of imported wine, not well-travelled, and dried-up whelks as appetisers. In very small dishes. Second-generation hostesses and tapsters run those places people, I'd say, with half or quarter Roman blood in them. The Second Augusta - that was your legion, wasn't it? -must be well represented in their pedigrees.'

  'Don't look at me. I was based at Isca.'

  'Anyway, you were a shy boy, weren't you, Falco?'

  Truer than he knew. 'Innocence is more normal than most boys admit.'

  'I believe I remember it myself... Falco, the canabae hosts speak with a bastard Esquiline twang and can part you from your cash as quickly as any caupona keeper in the Via Sacra.'

  I caught his drift at once. 'You are getting no more money.'

  'On expenses?' he wheedled.

  'No.'

  He sulked, then carried on reporting. 'Then from the palace site come into town most evenings. They walk here and back.'

  'It's about a mile. Easy when you're sober and not impossible when drunk.'

  'Once they arrive, they tend to divide up. The foreign labour drinks in one area, near the west gate, which is the first part of town they come to. The Britons venture further and favour the south-gate end. The road there goes out to a native settlement, on a headland at the coast.'

  'What I'd expect. There are two gangs, with two different supervisors. The supervisors don't like each other,' I told him.

  'And nor do the men.'

  'Is there much trouble?'

  'Almost every night. From time to time they hold a running street battle and throw bricks at shuttered windows to deliberately annoy the locals. In between, they just arrange one-to-one punch-ups. And knife fights: that was what happened to that Gaul you asked me to find out about.'

  'Dubnus?'

  'He fell foul of a gang of the British. Insults were traded and when the Britons scattered, he was lying there dead. He had been alone at the time, so his mates don't know who to take vengeance on though they think it was brick-makers.'

  'Is this tale common knowledge?'

  'No, but I had it from a rather common source... Justinus leered. 'I discovered it in confidence from the young lady I mentioned. Her name,' he said, 'is Virginia.'

  I gave him a look. 'Sounds a regular flower to cultivate! But then what about your fighting friend?'

  'Oh.' He grinned. 'The painter and I can share her!'

  'He's a painter? Well, it he's the new assistant then I've been looking for him, and word has it he wants to talk to me. Hyspale wouldn't say no either - she thinks he's a cute prospect.'

  Justinus was grimacing. 'Hyspale's our freed woman. Can't have her smooching the pig's-bristle boy!'

  'So you will drink and fight with this fellow, but your womenfolk are off-limits to him? Let's have no snobbery. He can take her, if his wife will let him,' I retorted with feeling. 'Anyway, tell your boozing mate, he's known on site as 'the smart arse from Stabiae'.' I paused. 'But don't tell him that you know me.'

  Justinus was bored with eating. He slowed down, looking as if he wondered when the next drink and fight might come along. 'So I can carry on? It's exhausting me, having such a good time -'

  'But you will be brave and uncomplaining?' I rose to leave him. I gave him a very small allowance in cash. 'Your commendatory gold medal is being moulded. Thanks for suffering.'

  'It's a tough assignment, Falco. Tonight I am off to my favourite den of iniquity where, if the rumour is correct, a really interesting female from Rome will come in to entertain the lads.'

  I was halfway back home on my pony when for some reason his remark about the female entertainer bothered me.

  XXVIII

  I had grown depressed. 'One of my assistants wants to be a playboy; the other simply doesn't want to play.' I was moaning to Helena. She adopted her usual method of showing sympathy: a heartless expression and burying her head in a poetic scroll. 'Here I am, trying to re-impose order on this huge chaotic project, but I'm a one-man arena orchestra.'

  'What have they done?' she murmured, though I could see the scroll was more interesting than me.

  'They have done nothing; that's the point, sweetheart. Aelianus lies in the woods with his feet up all day; Justinus goes on the town drinking all night.'

  Helena looked up. She said nothing. Her way of staying silent implied I was leading her brothers astray. She was the eldest and she cared about them. Helena had a habit of diligently loving wastrels; that was what had made her fall for me.

  'If this is what it means to be an equestrian,' I told her, 'I would rather be half starved at the top of a tenement. Staff -' I spat the word out. 'staff are no good to an informer. We need light and air. We need space to think. We need the freedom and the challenge of working alone.'

  'Get rid of them, then,' said the loving sister of the two Camilli callously.

  When Aelianus called on us that evening, still complaining sulkily about his conditions, I told him he ought to be more placid and even tempered, the way I was. I felt much better after mouthing this hypocrisy.

  He lay on some grass with a beaker balanced on his stomach. The whole Camillus family seemed to have a drink problem on this trip. Even Helena was diving into the wine tonight - though that was because baby Favonia was crying endlessly again. We sent Hyspale into our room with both children and told her to keep them quiet.

  Nux followed her to supervise. After that I could see Helena all keyed up, expecting trouble indoors. I was listening out for it myself.

  'What's the matter around here?' scoffed Aelianus. 'Everyone is growling like unhappy bears.'

  'Falco has toothache. Our children are niggly. The nursemaid is moping after a fresco artist. Maia is plotting alone in her room. I,' maintained Helena Justina, 'am complete serenity.'

  Being her brother, Aelianus was allowed to make a rude noise.

  He offered to tie a string to my tooth and slam a door on it. I said I had doubts that the door furniture installed by Marcellinus in the old house would survive. Aelianus then passed on some horror story Sextius had told him, about a dentist in Gaul who would drill out a hole and stick a new iron tooth right in your gum...

  'Aaargh! Don't, don't! I can unearth buried corpses or change a baby's loincloth, but I'm too sensitive to hear anything that teeth doctors do... I'm worried about my sister,' I diverted him. Maia had slunk off indoors by herself; she often did. Most times, she wanted nothing to do with the rest of us. 'We got her away from Anacrites temporarily, but it's no real solution. Some day she will have to go back to Rome. In any case, he's a Palatine official. He will learn that I am on a mission to Britain. Suppose he guesses that Maia came with us and sends someone after her?'

  'In a province like this,' Aelianus soothed me, 'a trained spy will stand out rather.'

  'Nonsense. I'm a professional myself and I melt in.'

  'Right.' He chortled. 'If anybody comes to get Maia Favonia, we are here. She is more closely protected than she would be in Rome.'

  'And in the long term?'

  'Oh, you'll sort something out, Falco.'

  'I don't see how.'

  'Deal with it when you need to.' Aelianus was sounding like me these days. He lost interest in my problems. He sat up. 'Well, I want to do something, Falco. And I'm not going back to mind those damn statues. Sextius can mollycoddle his own junk.'

  'You are going back right now.' I had to keep this trooper in line. Anyway, I had a plan. 'I am coming with you.' There had been the usual tramping of booted feet all evening as the labour force marched off into town. 'By the sound of it, they have all gone to see the wondrous female entertainer Justinus mentioned. Bare flesh, bad breath, leather knickers and a ratty tambourine - while the labourers are trying to paw her bikini strings, the coast is clear for us. You and I are goin
g to have a look in some of those delivery carts. Something's going on.'

  'Oh I know what it is!' Aelianus amazed me by saying as he scrambled to his feet. 'It has to do with them sneaking materials off site. A new cart came in today; all the drivers looked at me, and said loudly, 'Here's the stolen marble; don't let Falco find out!' nudging each other.'

  'Aulus! I should have been told about that hours ago! you're a lot of use.'

  As I went to fetch light, boots and outer wear, the baby started wailing again plaintively. Helena jumped up and suddenly said she was coming with us.

  'Oh no!' cried her brother. 'Falco, you can't allow it.'

  'Hush; be calm. Someone has to hold the lantern while we search.'

  'What if we run into trouble? What if someone discovers us?'

  'Helena and I can fall down on the ground in a passionate clinch. We'll be two lovers having a tryst in the woods. Perfect alibi.'

  Aelianus was outraged. He could never cope with the thought of me making love to his elegant sister, least of all because he rightly sensed that she liked it. Publicly I gave him credit for some experience and he of course played the worldly type, yet for all I knew he was a virgin still. Nice girls of his own age would be chaperoned, he would be scared of disease if he paid for his fun, and if he ever eyed up his mother's matronly friends for a little adultery across the generations they would only tell his mother. Senators' sons can always jump on their household slaves - but Aelianus would hate having to meet their eyes afterwards. Besides, they would tell his mother too.

  He became extremely pompous. 'And where does that leave me, Falco?'

  I smiled gently. 'You are a pervert, spying on the leg over from behind a tree, Aulus.'

  XXIX

  Rome has its deep areas of darkness at night. Nothing quite like the open country, though. I would have felt safer in narrow twisting alleys, unlit courtyards and colonnades where any lamps had been doused by passing burglars. There even seemed to be fewer stars in Britain.

  We took the service road around the palace, going up carefully on the eastern side then along the north wing, past the secure depot. Walking on the metalled road was easier than tripping across the site, with its mud and fatal pitfalls. A young fox let out a bloodcurdling scream from nearby undergrowth. When an owl hooted, it sounded like a human wrongdoer signalling to lurking friends. Noises carried alarmingly.

  'We are mad,' Aelianus decided.

  'Quite possibly,' whispered Helena. She was unperturbed. We could hear that my supposedly sensible lady was now thrilled to be up and at an adventure.

  'Face it,' I told her brother. 'Your sister never was the docile type who would happily fold tablecloths while her men went out to spend, bet, feast and flirt.'

  'Well, not since she noticed Pertinax doing all those things without her,' he conceded. Pertinax had been her short-lived first husband. Helena hated to have a failed marriage, but when he neglected her she took the initiative and issued a divorce notice.

  'I saw her reaction, Aulus, and I learned from it. Whenever she wants to play outside with the boys, I let her.'

  'Anyway, Falco,' Helena murmured silkily, 'I hold your hand when you're scared.'

  Something quite large rustled away in the undergrowth. Helena grabbed my hand. Perhaps it was a badger.

  'I don't like this,' Aelianus whispered nervously. I told him he never liked anything, then I led my companions silently past the specialist finishers' huts.

  The mosaicist had his window shuttered tightly; he probably still mourned his dead father. From the fresco painters' hut came a smell of toasted bread; someone inside was whistling loudly. We had already gone by when the door was flung open. I sheltered our lantern with my body; Aelianus instinctively moved closer to help block the light. A cloaked figure emerged and, without a glance our way, skipped off in the opposite direction. He was a fast, confident walker.

  I could have called out and initiated a deep argument about crushed malachite (which is so expensive) as against green earth celadonite (which fades), but who wants to start libelling 'Appian green' with a painter who is known to thump people?

  'Your Stabian, Falco?'

  'Presumably. Toddling off to thump your brother again.'

  'Or serenade Hyspale?'

  'I bet he hasn't even noticed her. He and Justinus are on a promise with a wine bar-dainty called Virginia.'

  'Ooh, I can't wait to tell Claudia!' Aelianus sounded as if he meant it, unfortunately.

  Helena gave me an angry shove. I moved on.

  We found the line of carts. Poking about strange transport wagons in pitch darkness, when the owners of the wagons may be waiting there to jump you, is no fun. An ox sensed our presence; he started lowing with a mournful bellow. I could hear the tethered mules stamping. They were restless. If I had been a carter here, I would have come to investigate. No one moved. With luck, that meant no one had stayed here to watch the wagons. Not that we could assume anything.

  'Helena, we'll explore. Listen out for anyone coming.'

  Not long after we first started searching, Helena thought she heard something. We all hushed. Straining our ears, we did hear faint movement, but it seemed to be retreating away from us. Had someone spotted us and gone for help? It could have been horses or cattle nosing about.

  'Pretend that like rats and snakes they are more scared of us than we are of them...'

  I ordered Aelianus to resume, but told him to hurry. With our nerve almost going, we hopped from vehicle to vehicle. The empty carts were no trouble. We checked them for false bottoms, feeling fools as we did so. We found nothing so sophisticated. Other carts were carrying goods for sale - wicker chairs, hideous mock - Egyptian side tables and even a batch of soft furnishings: ugly cushions, rolls of garish curtain material and some ghastly rugs all made to lousy standards of workmanship, in what was thought to be provincial taste by people who had none themselves. Other cheap jack entrepreneurs like Sextius must have made their way here on the off-chance. If they failed to find a buyer in the King, they then drove into town and tried to flog their merchandise to the town's people. In exchange, the canny Britons probably tried to palm off the sellers with fake amber and cracked shale.

  Not wanting to leave signs that we had searched, we had problems with these carts. Still, we poked beneath the merchandise to our best ability. One of us would heave up the crude produce, while the other quickly scrabbled underneath. It would have helped if Aelianus had bothered to prop things up as he was supposed to, instead of letting a lady's armchair crash down on my bent head. Woven basket ware is damned heavy.

  'Steady on! Some tribal spears man daughter is going to find her new bedroom seat covered with my blood-'

  Luckily I only had a sore noddle. The scent of blood was the last thing we needed. Because just at that moment a crowd of men rushed from the darkness, yelling at us - with the unleashed depot guard dogs baying ahead of them.

  We had nowhere to go. It was a thousand yards back to the safety of the King's old house.

  I pulled Helena up onto the furniture cart, shoved her right down among the wicker chairs and told her to lie still in this fragile testudo. Aelianus and I jumped to the ground and scattered, trying to draw off the dogs. I never saw where he went. I took the one open route in front of me.

  I got a brief clear run to the campsite. Crashing through undergrowth, I burst into the clearing where various outcasts lurked on the fringes and no doubt preyed on the building site. Some had quite decent tents with ridge poles, some had nothing but branches bent over and covered with skins. A group of bonfires burned listlessly. It was all I could hope for out here. I grabbed myself a burning branch, stirred up the nearest blaze and as the sparks flew, light illuminated the clearing. I managed to pick up a second lit branch. Then I turned to face the guard dogs as they raced towards me through the trees.

  XXX

  They were big, fierce, black-haired, long-eared angry curs. They hurtled heavily towards me at full pelt. As the first
reached me, I leapt back right over the bonfire, so his pads must have been singed as he jumped over. He felt nothing, apparently. I made wild feints with the live brands. Snarling, he sought to dodge the flames but still snapped at me.

  Startled heads had popped out from some of the bivouacs. Other dogs careered up and attacked the tents. This was hard on the occupants, but distracted the other dogs from chasing me. I was left with my lone attacker. I roared and stamped. You have to outface them, someone had once told me...

  My attacker was barking ferociously. Men arrived, shouting. The blanket-wrapped lumps who lived in the benders had come to - I glimpsed pans and staves being whacked around violently. Then I stopped looking as the terrifying dog launched straight at my throat.