AURELIA (Roma Nova Book 4)

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AURELIA (Roma Nova Book 4) Page 27

by Alison Morton


  ‘Let’s hope we catch the bastard soon. The budget won’t stand it for much longer.’

  *

  Prisca and the inspector weren’t expected to finish cataloguing until later that afternoon so I went to see Marina. The servants everywhere with armfuls of greenery, propping ladders against the columns and reaching up to fix gauze drapery, brought home to me it was nearly the start of Saturnalia. Juno, I hadn’t thought about presents, the household feast, theatricals, visits or games. What sort of festival would it be for us?

  As I slipped into the children’s day room at the palace, Aemilia looked up. She stared at me, her eyes tensing, but I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Marina, neglecting the chicken and vegetables in front of her, was cutting up the food on Julian’s plate with precise determination. Her face wore a serious expression as she talked to him; she was clearly instructing him on something. He looked up at her, adoringly, taking in every word she said. The perfect older sister and younger brother. My throat clenched at the thought of what might have been. I swallowed hard to release it.

  Aemilia stood and broke the moment. Marina looked up.

  ‘Mama?’

  ‘Hello, darling,’ I bent down to kiss her and caught my breath, not only from a jab of pain from my ribs.

  ‘Have you had another accident?’ she said and pointed at my left arm still supported in a sling.

  ‘Yes, I’m helping the Praetorians to catch a bad man and he attacked me.’

  ‘Why? You’re not a soldier now.’

  Should I tell her? She wasn’t even six. But how could she protect herself if she didn’t know the danger?

  ‘You remember Caius Tellus?’

  She nodded, her little mouth closed into a tight line.

  ‘He’s the one we’re trying to stop. He’s done some very bad things.’

  ‘If he hurt you, Mama, then I hate him.’ She looked down at her plate. ‘I was scared of him in the park. He made me feel hot and uncomfortable. I thought he’d gone away.’

  Her voice couldn’t have accused me more.

  ‘So did I, darling. He’s escaped from prison and wants to hurt us.’ I stroked her hand and she looked up at me without blinking. ‘You’re safe here, Marina. You have to be brave and try to keep Nonna Justina cheerful. You can do that, can’t you?’

  *

  Driving home through the blizzard, the soft thump-thump of the windscreen wipers and the warmth from the car heater were soporific. I closed my eyes for a few seconds. How comforting to reach home, slide into a warm bed and rest my aching body. No Caius, no silver smuggling, but no child inside me.

  The scrape of wall gates opening across icy ground jolted me awake. I fought through the snow and up the steps to the door. Milo wore his usual dour expression, but gave me a half-smile when I returned his greeting. The soft light in the vestibule was welcoming, mitigating the stern look of the imagines. I hurried through as a cold draught had followed me in. Milo opened the double doors to the atrium with a flourish. What in Hades was he up to?

  I caught my breath. The atrium blazed with light. Everywhere was covered in ferns, spruce and pine. And in the centre was a large square table covered with linen, silverware, glasses and the best china. I smelt roast pork, lemons and spices. The housekeeper gave me a glass of champagne and a smile.

  ‘Io Saturnalia!’

  I blinked at the hearty shout from the household gathered around. Numerus and one other guard stood to the side. He raised his glass in my direction.

  Milo led me to the table and whispered, ‘I thought we’d bring it forward by a day. We all need some relief from recent events.’

  Io Saturnalia, indeed.

  XXXIV

  Driving away from the Central Valetudinarium after my outpatient discharge examination five days later, my mood was sombre. Perhaps my mind was finally reacting to the loss of my baby, Caius’s brutal attack and the frustration of always being two steps behind him. He’d spoiled my life whenever he’d touched it; as a child, a young soldier, a family head and mother. And he’d threatened the country’s economy by attacking the silver trade. As a Foreign Ministry employee as well as a Praetorian in my heart, it was my duty to protect the state and I was failing. Would I ever be free of him?

  The car crawled along the Dec Max, stopping and starting intermittently. The engine coughed and revved under the strain. Why in Hades this high street hadn’t been made one-way defeated me. They could easily loop it with the parallel street taking the eastbound traffic. I rubbed the window to wipe away the condensation. People were huddled up against the still frosty late morning, youngsters with hands in their pockets, older citizens swathed in hats, deep scarves and thick gloves.

  Then I saw him.

  The little runt who’d followed me in Berlin. Last time I’d seen him was at the Anhalter station when I packed him off on the train to Bavaria. Now he was ambling along the Dec Max as if he were a summer tourist. Far too casually.

  I almost ordered the driver to stop, but remembered I was in no fit shape to go chasing anybody.

  ‘Give me your handset,’ I said. I waited five agonising seconds waiting to be patched through.

  ‘Plico.’

  ‘Get a Praetorian detail out now to pick up a small man, brown hair, pinched nose, light grey coat, no hat, walking slowly west along the Dec Max. He’s just passed the macellum north entrance.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Do it,’ I hissed down the microphone. ‘Please. He’s one of Caius’s Prussian runners, Ernst Beck.’

  *

  The interview room we used for Beck was the ‘comfortable’ one with two plastic covered green sofas and a chocolate box mountain print on the wall. Numerus and I watched him for a few minutes through the two-way mirror. Now with overcoat removed by the custody guards, the little man sat on the edge of one of the sofas and twitched. He picked up the glass of water, took a gulp and placed it back on the table, then repeated it every twenty seconds. He glanced around anxiously in between. Under the harsh light from the overhead twin neon lights a faint sheen of sweat reflected from his forehead just below his receding hairline.

  ‘Okay, Numerus, do you want to soften him up for a few minutes?’ I said.

  ‘And I was looking forward to playing bad cop,’ he replied, with a quick grin. He picked up the clipboard with the standard detainment form and a pen from the table and left. In the interview room, he sat at right angles to Beck, asking him routine ID questions, reasons for travel, length of stay. Incredibly, Beck was using his own name, but travelling on a Bavarian passport. Mercuria’s staff had already asked the vigiles to fax it through to the Bavarian National Police.

  Numerus asked his questions in a pleasant, soothing tone, nodding his head and smiling all the time. Gradually, Beck relaxed, his back became straighter.

  ‘Now, Herr Beck,’ Numerus said at his most reassuring, ‘a colleague is going to ask you a few more questions and then if everything’s satisfactory, you’ll be on your way to enjoy the rest of your stay in Roma Nova.’

  ‘I haven’t got anything else to tell you – I’m a simple tourist. I don’t understand why you’ve picked me up. You’re military, not the police.’ His tone had become petulant.

  ‘Well, it’s a routine matter of state security, and that’s what we do in support of the vigiles.’

  I chuckled to myself. The only support Numerus would want to give the vigiles was a crutch to walk with after he’d kicked them.

  ‘You can’t hold me – I demand a lawyer.’ Beck was becoming confident, or at least showing bravado.

  ‘I’m sure everything will be sorted out shortly, Herr Beck. A few more minutes should do it.’

  ‘Well, hurry up, then.’

  Numerus stretched over for Beck to sign and date the form. Beck hesitated. Numerus smiled again at him and nodded. Giving Beck a last bland smile, Numerus picked up the signed form and left the room. He reappeared in the obs room two seconds later.

  ‘Obnoxious li
ttle git,’ Numerus said almost matter of factly. ‘I’m going to enjoy watching you take him apart, Major.’

  I’d borrowed a dark purple Praetorian civvy suit, with a gold eagle lapel badge, perhaps to get myself back into the mental framework, but mainly to look more formal than the slacks and casual jumper I’d arrived in on my way back from my hospital appointment hours ago.

  I walked in and closed the door quietly behind me.

  ‘Hello, Ernst,’ I said in Germanic. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again.’

  His jaw dropped open, revealing his uneven yellow-stained teeth.

  ‘Now, you remember the last time we had a little chat. Today, we’re going to take it a little further.’

  He squirmed on the sofa.

  ‘What are you doing here in Roma Nova? Please don’t spin me the one about being a tourist.’ I bent over and looked direct into his eyes, staring at him until he looked away.

  ‘I… I’m looking for work.’

  I glanced down at the form Numerus had completed.

  ‘Really? You’ve given your occupation on the immigration form as commercial agent. Do explain exactly what you do in this occupation.’

  ‘This and that. It’s confidential.’

  I sighed. ‘Look here, Ernst, I haven’t got the time to go through the “I don’t know what you mean” routine. I simply want to know what you’re doing for Caius Tellus.’

  He hesitated. His mistake.

  ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’

  I waved at the mirror and a minute later, two guards, one carrying a medical pack, entered the room. One walked up to Ernst and stood within millimetres of him. The little man flinched. The other sat next to me and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. She opened a tin to reveal swabs in sealed paper packets, a bottle of pale yellow liquid, a syringe and three ampoules. She snapped the neck off one of the ampoules, the crack breaking the silence, and filled the syringe chamber. Ernst retreated as far back on the sofa as he could.

  The second guard swooped down, grabbed his wrist and shoved the shirtsleeve up his arm. She clamped her other arm above his elbow and nodded at her colleague.

  ‘Last chance, Ernst,’ I said, and yawned.

  He hesitated, then shook his head. More sweat broke out above his top lip and he tried to arch away from the vice-like grip on his arm.

  I nodded to the medic and she swabbed his inner forearm skin, inserted the needle and pressed the plunger down slowly but firmly to the top exterior lip of the barrel. She withdrew the needle, pressed a clean swab on Ernst’s skin for a few seconds then packed her kit up and waited; the other guard released Ernst’s arm and withdrew to the wall. Ernst flopped back, holding his arm above the puncture site, staring at the tiny droplet of blood that was clotting.

  Once the medic had done two sets of checks separated by five minutes, I looked up from the paperwork I was pretending to read.

  ‘Well, Ernst, feeling talkative now, are you?’

  ‘You caando thiss.’

  ‘We just have. If you’d been more cooperative, as you were in Berlin, there would have been no need.’

  ‘Not saying anything ’bout Tellus. Says nothing… jus’ gives me orders.’

  I glanced at the mirror. Numerus would be taping this as well as taking notes.

  ‘What does he order you to do?’

  Ernst Beck trembled with the effort of trying not to answer, but failed. He hunched over and talked to the floor.

  ‘Sends me out to buy stuff.’

  ‘What have you bought for him?’

  ‘He kill me, or worse,’ he croaked.

  ‘He won’t if what you say helps us to catch him.’

  ‘You don’ know him. Hard, a real hard bastard.’

  ‘Believe me, Ernst, I know exactly what he is.’ I softened my voice. ‘Why are you working again for him?’

  Beck shuddered. ‘Made me. Threatened to cut me if I didn’t. You know, where it hurts.’ He swallowed hard. ‘He looks at you weird. Like he’s looking right inside you. Bloody frightenin’.’

  ‘Tell me what you’ve bought for him.’

  ‘Yesserday, he give me a list for TV workshop.’ I waited. ‘Bloke there gave me a bag of coils and metal bits. Wire. Said I had to carry it carefully, ’specially box of transistors.’

  ‘And where were you going today when we picked you up?’

  He glanced up at me. ‘Goin’ back to hostel after delivering stuff to him. Trousers ’n’ shirt.’

  ‘What sort of clothes?’

  ‘Beige-y,’ he gurgled, ‘like hers. Trousers ’n’ shirt.’ He pointed at the guard in her Praetorian barrack uniform.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Black singlet.’

  Mars’ eyeballs.

  ‘And where did you have to take them?’

  ‘Back to his gaff.’

  ‘Which is where?’

  ‘Down by station.’

  ‘Address?’

  ‘I dunno. Via somethin’. Can’t follow the weird names here. Know what it looks like.’ He looked up and grasped my hand. ‘Don’ let him get me, will you?’ His fingers pinched the skin on mine. ‘Will you?’

  ‘No, Ernst, I won’t.’

  He shuddered, and gave a huge sob.

  *

  One of Numerus’s troops sat with Beck and showed him photos of the streets near the station. The medic had given him a vitamin shot and water. The stimulant would be out of his system within twelve hours.

  I balled my hand and held it to my mouth. Using the clothes Beck had brought him, Caius could pass as a Praetorian. He had enough brass neck to carry it off. As guardians of the state, they had access to everything, everywhere. The palace was the obvious target.

  ‘I’ve already alerted the palace guard to look out for a possible imposter,’ Numerus said. ‘Lieutenant Volusenia is on shift up there tonight.’ He raised his eyebrows for an instant and let a heavy breath out. ‘Jupiter, she nearly bit my head off when I asked her to ensure each guard wanting access was to be verified by two others already verified.’

  ‘Ha! She’s formidable,’ I replied, ‘but very efficient.’

  ‘Personally, I’d pity Caius Tellus if she caught him.’

  ‘Enough, Numerus. Get a signal out to all the Praetorian commanders down to junior optio level.’

  ‘You know those components Beck described could make a radio, or even a crude jammer?’ he said.

  ‘What unit did Caius do his national service in?’ I asked, dread creeping through me. ‘Please don’t tell me it was signals.’

  ‘I’d have to look in his file which will take time, but let’s assume the worst.’

  ‘The range would be very limited. He’d need a reasonable-sized battery if he was going mobile, something as big as a motorcycle one.’

  ‘A fit man could carry that without too much difficulty,’ Numerus remarked.

  But we’d alerted Volusenia and she’d confirmed comms were running at full strength and clear.

  Oh gods.

  It hit me like a fist blow to my heart. It wasn’t the palace he was targeting. Marina was coming home this afternoon to celebrate the children’s Saturnalia feast with the household juniors and children of the staff. She would be escorted by Aemilia and a Praetorian driver, but once in our house, they would assume the detail there would take over security.

  I grabbed the telephone handset and punched in the numbers for Domus Mitelarum on the keypad.

  Unobtainable.

  Pluto in Tartarus.

  ‘Numerus! Contact the house detail, stat,’ I shrieked.

  He talked calmly, but in a staccato rhythm, into the transceiver in his hand.

  Only the crackle of static answered.

  XXXV

  The rotating blue dome light clamped to the top of the window frame parted the lines of cars before us as if we were slicing through jelly. Numerus drove the long wheelbase through the traffic along the Dec Max without mercy. During the frustrating moments
waiting for the vehicle to be brought round, Numerus had confirmed with Volusenia that Marina, Aemilia and a Praetorian had left the palace fifteen minutes ago.

  ‘You think he’s definitely at Domus Mitelarum?’ Numerus asked.

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry, but your troops may no longer be alive.’

  Thank the gods the other children weren’t due there for another hour. If only I had been there when Caius had tricked his way into my house, Marina would not now be in danger. I shrank at the horror of losing a second child to Caius.

  My hand trembled as I gave Numerus the keys to the back service entrance. ‘Secure that area and deploy another detail on the perimeter wall. I’m going in through the front door.’

  ‘I’ll come in with you,’ he said.

  ‘Denied. If Caius is in there, and armed, all you’ll do is add to the body count.’ He went to say something, but I held my hand up. ‘I want you to come in at the first floor level. There’s a maintenance shaft, at the far corner of the domestic service yard opposite the back service gate. Take the metal hatch cover off. It’s heavy, but two people can manage it reasonably quietly. Inside there’s an old metal ladder to the first floor service lobby. Find Marina and get her away. That is your primary task. Leave Caius to me.’

  ‘Lieutenant Mercuria was adamant that I shouldn’t let you out of my sight.’

  ‘Then the sooner you get up that shaft the better. You’ll be able to observe from behind the first floor balustrade.’

  ‘I’m bringing a marksman.’

  ‘Disabling shot only, Numerus.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I mean it. He has to stand his trial.’

  Numerus didn’t reply.

  *

  My hand trembled as I inserted the key in the narrow service door in the big gates at the front of Domus Mitelarum. I knew Numerus had to get into position, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I took a deep breath to calm myself, but only received sore pain in reply. Juno, I was a wreck. I’d refused Numerus’s offer of a service revolver. If Marina was anywhere near Caius, I couldn’t risk her being caught in crossfire or by a ricochet. I’d kept it simple; a knife in a back waist holster along with a set of handcuffs. I clipped caesti around my hands. Unlike the ancient clumsy boxing gloves, these were chain-link mittens designed to protect your hands as well as deepen any blow.

 

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