‘Think of your mother, then,’ I said. ‘She has no choice but to uphold the law. Inside, she’s weeping blood for you.’
She looked away. I suppose it was something, some kind of realisation that she had done something wrong.
After an eon, which was really just over five minutes, Silvia nodded at Pelonia who went over to Stella and pulled her to her feet. Stella stared unbelieving at Pelonia’s hand gripping her arm. She tried to pull away, but the cop turned Stella and cuffed her hands behind her back.
‘Stella Apulia, I am Inspector Pelonia of the Department of Justice special cases team. I’m arresting you for possession of Level I illicit substances and for suspected dealing. You will undergo medical examination and detoxification in a secure unit pending trial. Do you submit to the court?’
Stella stared back at Pelonia like she was an alien. She cast a pleading look at her mother.
Silvia looked at her daughter and said in a low voice, ’She submits to the court.’
Pelonia nodded to the two other custodes standing by the door and they all marched out, Stella stumbling between the two blue figures.
Silvia turned a shattered face to me and said, ‘Go with them. Watch over her.’ As I left, I heard her sobbing.
XVII
Stella was brought into Custodes XI Station through the back gate, taken to the medical room and given a thorough examination. She said nothing as the techs carried out the blood, urine and vitals tests. Normally robotic in their neutrality – testing druggies couldn’t have been the pleasantest of jobs – they were more circumspect in their actions than I’d ever seen. One assistant dropped a tube that clattered on his metal instrument tray. Stella jumped at the noise and Lurio frowned at both techs.
I stayed with Stella throughout, but she more or less ignored me, only giving me a pleading look once when they gave her an intimate search. I took her hand and squeezed it in sympathy, but once they finished she shook it off. The medic gave her a drink and a shot – vitamins he told me later – and she was taken away to a locked room.
Lurio took me to his office and dosed me with coffee. He looked as grim as I felt.
‘How the fuck did it get to this? She’s had every chance. Jupiter, I’d strangle her myself if she was my daughter.’
‘Don’t, Lurio. Please.’
‘What is it with you lot? First your fluffy bunny, now this one.’
‘That’s unfair and you know it, but if you want to have a temper fit, be my guest.’
He stopped pacing up and down and threw himself into his chair. He tapped his fingers on his desk, reached for his keyboard and attacked that.
‘We can hold her in the medical unit and stretch out the detox, but she’ll have to go to trial eventually. I’m sorry for your cousin, personally, but it’ll send shock waves through the whole country. Bloody glad it’s not me having to deal with that.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Pelonia will want to get started. I’d better wander down.’
In the detention suite, he nodded to the custody sergeant, and as I went to follow him down the corridor to the interview rooms, Lurio barred the way.
‘Sorry, no further.’
‘C’mon, Lurio, don’t be such a hard-ass. She’s only a kid, she needs somebody there for her.’
‘She’s a legal adult arrested on narcotics charges, suspected dealer and uncooperative. Nothing doing.’ He relaxed a centimetre. ‘Look, I’m sorry about your professional trouble coming on top of your family problems, but I can’t bend the procedure for civilians. Even a prominent one like yourself, Countess.’
I stared at him, dumbstruck. I really was excluded now.
His eyes were full of understanding, but his mouth went into a tight line. He turned and disappeared through the scanlocked door.
*
I struggled back to the palace in my car, cursing the evening rush hour traffic as it sucked me in from the Dec Max and dropped me like a discard at the palace gates. Favonius met me in the staff car park and escorted me through to Silvia’s office. His smooth shell seemed a little cracked.
‘I wanted to have a quick word first, Countess,’ he said as we strode along. He looked like he was swallowing a box of steel tacks. ‘I confess I have not handled our relationship well in the past.’
An understatement of all time. When he’d been chief of staff years ago in the Washington legation, his political machinations had nearly gotten me killed.
‘It’s essential we work closely together on this crisis. I hope you will accept my apology.’
I stopped dead. Even more than his words, his eyes confirmed his genuine concern. Apart from his over-gracious smile having vanished, creases running down the side of his nose to the corners of his mouth had deepened markedly since I saw him twenty-four hours ago.
‘Sure, Favonius, I accept it, but don’t try anything fancy. I may not still be in uniform, but my priority is protecting the imperatrix and there’s very little I won’t do in pursuit of that.’
He half-bowed and we continued in silence.
I gave Silvia details about what had happened to Stella. She frowned when I reported how I’d been barred from the interviews. She glanced at Favonius. He shrugged. He must feel secure in his role and have Silvia’s full trust to make such an informal gesture. Silvia signed a document on her desk and gave it to her secretary, who hurried off with it like it was on fire.
‘I’ve issued an imperial order to Quintus Tellus demanding he produce Nicola Tella immediately.’ She studied her watch. ‘I’ll give him an hour.’
‘Juno, Silvia, can you do that for this kind of thing?’ I blurted out.
‘An attack on my heir, and this is undoubtedly what this is, is an attack on the state. Tellus will be here, with or without her. I very much hope for his sake it’s with.’
*
The imperial courier reported that Quintus Tellus was indisposed. She’d insisted on seeing him to verify it. Quintus was in his bed, one arm in a sling, a bruised face and sleeping. The order was delivered to his nephew Conradus Tellus. I stared horrified at the messenger as she recited the facts.
Tellus?
He’d renounced my name? I choked.
I retreated to the far corner and called Conrad’s cell. No reply. I called the Tella house landline, but all I heard was the steward’s voice on the voicemail. If Conrad didn’t answer Silvia’s summons, I couldn’t imagine the trouble he’d be in. I wanted to go over to Domus Tellarum right away, but Silvia forbade me. While we waited, she sat composed at her desk, seeming to push on with her normal paperwork. Perched on the sofa I pushed my caffeine levels through the ceiling, alternating with pacing up and down by the tall windows.
Time crawled, the only sound was Silvia opening and closing files, clacking on her keyboard or moving paper. I knew every stone in each archway after forty minutes. Favonius kept popping in like the cuckoo on a clock, but shook his head every time. Right on the hour, Silvia looked up at both of us hovering, jabbed her desk commset and summoned the guard commander. It was Flavius.
‘Senior Centurion, I require you execute an imperial order with any means required. You are to bring me Count Tellus or his senior representative together with Nicola Tella. Without fail.’ She studied his face. ‘Do you understand?’
Flavius drew himself up and saluted. His eyes were impassive; he was too good a soldier to react.
‘Imperatrix, if I may speak?’ I said.
She raised an eyebrow and looked down her nose at me with the force of over a thousand and a half years of ancestors behind her.
Well, ditto.
‘I know the house as well as any Tella, better than Flavius. Also, if Quintus Tellus is incapacitated, it’s appropriate under the Codes that the senior of the Twelve is there to assist.’ It sounded lame, but I had to go and find out.
‘No, you are too close. Flavius will deal with it.’ She looked up at him. ‘On your way, Senior Centurion.’
He saluted again, turned, shot the briefest of glances
at me and marched off.
‘Would you excuse us, Favonius?’ Silvia said, as soon as Flavius was out of earshot.
He bowed and shut the door softly behind him.
Silvia half-closed her eyes as if measuring her words and stroked her eyebrow with her middle finger. She rarely touched her face like that.
‘I know you’re tired and probably overwrought. And I am deeply grateful for your support for Stella. You are not only my cousin but my friend. But please don’t ever speak across me like that again.’
The heat rose up my neck into my face. I felt like a kid being unfairly admonished for answering the teacher back. Something broke inside me.
‘I apologise, Imperatrix. I did not mean to be discourteous,’ I said at my most formal. Gritting my teeth, I bowed and left.
*
Back at home, I used my anger to fuel me. The hell with it. Silvia could be as autocratic as she liked but as head of the Twelve Families’ Council I was perfectly within my rights to go to Quintus. More than that, I had to find out what had happened to Conrad. Capturing Nicola would be a bonus.
No way would they let me in the front door. I hurried into black t-shirt, fleece sweater and pants and fastened on black sneakers. I strapped on my carbon fibre knives and made for the service exit. The adrenaline was already coursing around my body.
At Domus Tellarum, a long wheelbase and a limousine, both with drivers, were parked up in front of the gate. Keeping close to the high wall, I ran the hundred and twenty metres to the back of the block. Frost was already forming on the sidewalk and I left ridged footprints. Too bad. No sign of any PGSF at the back. Sloppy. There was no entrance there, but still sloppy.
The soft pop of released air echoed off the wall as the carbon fibre hook flew up from the launcher. I glanced around, waited, but there was nobody, nothing. An intermittent buzz of traffic in the distance.
I’d targeted one of the tall oaks growing at the back of the long garden. Sure, their height and generous foliage guaranteed privacy, but appeared to be a housebreaker’s dream. But I knew the system of beams and motion sensors made up for it. As long as I didn’t touch the internal wall sensor which would detect my body warmth, I’d be fine. I scrambled up the outside wall and swung into the tree, right into a dead branch which cracked as I hit it.
Crap.
Clinging on to the main bough, I waited for figures to pour out of the back of the house and start shooting at me.
Nothing. I used up three precious minutes waiting.
I took a deep breath, fished out my beam reflector and progressed down the trunk. Landing softly on dead leaves which crunched with frost, I paused to scan the still silent garden.
I trotted up through the trees of the mini parkland, into the cultivated garden, made for the left side wall, sheltered by ornamental trees. I passed the pool and outdoor triclinium. I fished out the card to get through the electronic perimeter around the terrace, praying as I flashed it across the reader that it would work.
Green.
So far, so silent. The back door optical reader also let me through. Juno, that was a relief. I thought my access might have been cancelled.
I slid into the domestic hall to check the house system. Three biosignatures in the atrium, two on the stairs, two upstairs, but nobody else. The five would be the PGSF detail. Where were the servants? Normally at least four lived in at any time.
I ran up the service stairway and emerged in Uncle Quintus’s suite, in the corridor outside his bedroom. I crept along, checked out his private study and sitting room, opening each door with a knife in my hand. I hesitated at the bedroom door, but grasped it and entered.
The bedside light was on and in the bed lay Uncle Quintus, bandaged head, a large red and purple bruise on one cheek and arm in a sling. His closed eyes were sunken, brown shadows surrounding them. Juno, he looked dreadful. On a chair by the side of the bed sat his steward, Ternia, her eyes terrified as she lifted them to see who had come in.
‘Oh, thank the gods,’ she cried out.
Quintus’s eyes opened, apprehensive. Then he saw me.
‘Carina,’ he croaked and raised his chin a centimetre. I saw a vivid red weal on his neck. I took his hand.
‘It’s okay, Quintus, I’m here now.’ The steward handed me a glass of water. I put my arm around Quintus’s shoulders and raised it to his lips. Before I could ask him what had happened, there was a loud knock on the door and two PGSF guards burst in followed by Flavius. He stared at me, thunder on his face.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he spat at me. ‘The imperatrix expressly forbade you to set foot in this house.’
‘Well, too bad, Senior Centurion. I am here at the request of Quintus Tellus under the provisions of the Families Codes.’ I squeezed his hand and felt a weak but definite response. ‘And I would thank you to remember who you address.’
We glared each other out. In the end, he turned to Quintus. ‘Count Tellus, I am commanded by the imperatrix to require you to produce Nicola Tella and to bring you both into the imperatrix’s presence without delay. An imperial order was sent to you an hour ago.’ Flavius stared down into Quintus’ face. ‘Where is Nicola Tella?’
Quintus closed his eyes and moved his head a few millimetres from one side to the other and back again.
*
I insisted on calling an ambulance, my back turned to Flavius as I spoke to them. The imperial order was still on Quintus’s system and the hardcopy on the vestibule table. The courier said she’d handed it to Conrad. Where the hell was he?
I made Quintus drink a restorative which I laced with painkillers and between us the steward and I managed to wrap him warmly. The paramedics carried him downstairs with utmost care. I was relieved to see he’d dozed off.
Flavius turned to me. ‘Do you know where the girl is?’ His eyes were hard and his voice cold.
‘No. If I did, I would have great pleasure in handing her over. You must know that.’
‘Very well. You have two choices. You can help us search it or you can watch us take this house apart.’
‘Why are you being so hard, Flav?’ I laid my fingers on his forearm. He looked down at my hand. After a few moments, he slid his hand out from under my fingers.
‘I’m trying to stay professional. Do you think this is in any way pleasant for me?’ His eyes softened. ‘We’ll be as careful as we can, but no favours. Understood?’
I nodded.
‘Anywhere special we should look?’
I gave him the guided tour and the guards with him broke out and searched individual rooms. I lingered in the rooms Conrad was obviously occupying. The silver frame I gave him last year of the children was on his desk. I opened the top drawer and gasped as I found the one of the two of us, smiling, happy, arms entwined, on the top of the drawer contents. A guard came in to search. I stood back but followed her every action. In a strange way, I felt I was defending his privacy. She looked at me, murmured, ‘Excuse me, ma’am’ and started opening the desk drawers. I stepped aside, hating every moment. In the end, I had to leave. I went downstairs and talked to the steward.
‘Where’s Conradus Tellus, Ternia?’
‘I don’t know, lady. I really don’t. I came back this evening after visiting my sister and found the house deserted apart from Quintus Tellus lying in bed.’ Her voice as she went on was bitter. ‘That girl chased them all away in the end. Even old Marius who’d been here for twenty years. May the Furies find her and tear her into little pieces!’
I pressed her forearm and smiled at her. ‘You and me both, Ternia.’
‘Countess. With me, please.’ Flavius beckoned me with an imperious gesture. We went upstairs again to a large room, formerly Conrad’s mother’s room. The closet doors were open, a single white shirt hung in one, a plastic bag on the floor. In the bathroom, grease marks and loose dark blond hair marked the basin, a shampoo bottle lay discarded in the shower enclosure. But these and the rumpled bedding were the only signs of rece
nt occupation.
Almost by instinct, I dropped to my knees and searched under the bed. Two guards came forward and turned the bed on its side. Some loose stitching in the base revealed a now empty space – a classic hiding place. In fact, a little too classic. Even obvious. So she was capable of making a mistake? I saw a tiny light in our dark search.
The guards pulled the drawers out of the rest of the furniture, examining the undersides of each drawer and inside the carcass. I climbed on to a chair and searched the top compartments of the closets.
‘We’ve looked,’ Flavius said, impatiently. ‘Forensics are on their way. Leave it. Let’s get back to the palace.’ We trudged downstairs and he signalled the rest of his troops to follow. He turned to me and frowned again.
‘You can ride with Count Tellus in the ambulance or with us in the back of the long wheelbase. Either way, consider yourself under arrest.’
I hadn’t expected anything else. I was bracing for Silvia’s reaction. Flavius would have messaged the uncomfortable fact of my presence through by now.
‘I wouldn’t dream of abandoning Uncle Quintus to your care, even if he weren’t an injured eighty-year-old.’
*
I sat by Quintus in the ambulance, holding his hand. The movement of the road journey had roused him, but he didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes glued on my face. I walked by his side into the atrium where Silvia was waiting with a small group. The wall lights between the columns cast distorted shadows but not much light.
She stood immobile, head pulling the rest of her spine upright. Her eyes flickered over me and settled on Quintus lying on the gurney. She waved one of the group forward who was clutching a medical bag. I hovered while the doctor examined Quintus, checking vitals and gently lifting his head to show the bruising on his neck.
‘The arm’s been set in a rudimentary but effective fashion, Imperatrix, almost an emergency battlefield procedure. But it’ll do. I suggest immediate hospitalisation. We need to give him a whole body scan and monitor him closely for the next few days.’
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