Venus in copper

After I left I made a long detour riverwards, to drop in on Petronius Longus at the booth which the Aventine watch used as its lock-up and chophouse. It was full of his men, dicing and complaining about the government, so we sat outside watching the bumboats scull up the Tiber.

Petronius was my best friend, so telling him about Helena was obligatory. To forestall awkward jokes, I also had to mention that arrangements were slightly precarious. He shook his head, smiling into his hands. 'You two! You never do anything the easy way...'

'Is there an easy way for a plebian to entice away the daughter of a senator?'

'No one but you would try!'

He started to thank me for last evening but I cut him short. 'My pleasure; I owed you and Silvia hospitality -Petro, tell me, what's the word these days about the world of high-finance property?'

'Nothing unusual-all swindles, scams and harassment. You working on something?'

'Could be. Ever come across a shoal of real-estate predators by the name of Hortensius?' Petro shook his head. 'What about Appius Priscillus?'

'Oh I've heard of him! If you intend to go and see Priscillus, wear a peg on your nose.' I lifted an eyebrow quizzically. 'Everything he does stinks!'

'Any stink in particular?'

'I've never run across him myself, but I do know half the shopkeepers on the Via Ostiensis hide their heads in a cauldron at the mention of his name. Do you want some background? I can ask around.'

'Appreciated ...'

'You're trying to net a big one, Falco!' Petro told me in a warning voice. Size as such - or even size as a measure of social status-never worried Petronius; he meant the man was dangerous.

Back home I found an immaculate factotum, with her nose in a scroll of poetry. She had been to the baths; the disturbing undernotes of some perfume I half disliked were filling the house. She gave me a swift sneer as if I had six legs and mandibles, then carried on brazenly skiving in office time.

I adopted a furtive whine. 'Falco live here?'

'On and off.' She refused to raise her well-groomed head from the scroll.

'Can you give him a message?'

'If I feel like it.'

'It's just that I might have a job for him-if he's not too particular.'

'Falco's not fussy.' She laughed bitterly.

'So what are his prices?' She looked up from her reading at last. 'No; don't tell them, fruit. The answer is more than you can afford by the look of you!'

'Why? I can tell them. I know what you charged me -'

'You were a beautiful woman and I wanted to impress you. I gave you special rates.'

'Specially dear, you mean!' Beneath the surface of this bonhomie I had been throwing out hard messages of domineering lust. Helena was starting to flounder. 'Am I doing this right?' she asked.

'Cut down on the friendliness! Clients only mean trouble. Why encourage them?'

'What's that fighting in the bag?'

I untied the string and Chloe hopped out angrily. 'Don't just stand there, woman,' she cackled, 'give me a drink!'

Helena was furious. 'Didius Falco, if you want to bring home presents, I draw the line at pets who answer back!'

'I wouldn't insult you! Job for you, my darling. I reckon this flying ferdango may give us a clue. It's female; name of Chloe; eats seeds, I'm told. As witnesses go she's the tricky kind, and thoroughly unreliable. Better keep her in a room with the shutter closed in case she tries to do a flit before she's squawked. I'll find you a slate-just write down anything she says.'

'What sort of clue am I listening for?' The parrot obliged with three words which are mostly seen on the walls of tavern latrines. 'It will be a pleasure!' Helena muttered rebelliously.

'Thanks, beloved! If you see the letting agent-name of Cossus-will you ask him to look at that crack for me?'

'I can tell him it's interfering with your plans for a thousand sesterces' wall painting of Bellerophon and Pegasus'

'That should do the trick. Any questions, fruit?'

'Staying in for lunch?'

'Sorry; no time.'

'Where are you going?'

'Knocking on doors.'

'Who does the di

I dropped some money in a bowl. 'You buy it; I cook it; we eat it together while we talk about my day.'

I gave her a swift, chaste, parting kiss which left her unmoved but had a troublesome effect on me.

Chapter XLVII

The address I had for Appius Priscillus turned out to be a gloomy fortress on the Esquiline. This made him a close neighbour of the Praetor Corvinus, inhabiting the area which had once been notorious for fevers but was now host to pestilence of a different kind: the rich.

The house reeked of money, though the owner displayed his wealth in a different way from the Hortensii with their flash parade of interior design and art treasures. Priscillus emphasised how much he possessed by the pains he took protecting it. His property had been stripped of any balconies or pergolas which could offer cover to a thief's approach; its few upstairs windows were permanently barred. Private guards playing board games sat in a pillbox on one corner of the street, all of which was taken up with the sombre mansion where this grandmaster of real estate was supposed to live. His outer walls were painted black: a subtle hint of character.

Two white eyeballs, belonging to a big black African, squinted at me through a grille in a particularly solid black front door. The eyes let me in, but raced through the formalities with a speed designed to prevent anyone becoming too familiar with the layout. The entrance hall contained a brace of British hunting dogs (on chains), who were just fractionally friendlier than the leather-clad bodyguards; I counted at least five of those, patrolling the precincts with glittery daggers prominent in their handspan belts.

I was shunted into a side room where, before I could get bored and start writing my name on the wallplaster, a secretary stepped in with the clear intention of despatching me whence I came.

'May I see Appius Priscillus?'

'No. Priscillus greets his followers in the morning, but we keep a list. If you're not on the list, there is no chance of dole. If you are a tenant, see the rent clerk. If you are seeking a loan see the loans clerk -'

'Where do I find the personal information clerk?'

He paused. His eyes said information was at a premium. 'That's possibly me.'

'The information I'm after is extremely sensitive. Priscillus may prefer to give it to me himself.'

'He's not the sensitive type,' said his man.

Clearly Priscillus had not lashed out much on his secretarial services; this was no high-flown Greek who could speak and write five languages. He had an uninspiring north European face. The only indication that he acted as a scribe was the fact he had a split-nibbed reed pen stuck in the swag of brown cloth that he used as a belt, and ink all over him.

'My name is Didius Falco,' I said. He hadn't thought it polite to ask me, but I thought it polite to say. 'I would like you to inform Appius Priscillus that I have certain questions regarding events at the Hortensius house two nights ago. Clearing up these questions will be in his interests as much as mine.'

'What questions?'

'Confidential.'

'You can tell me.'

'Maybe-but I'm not going to!'

The secretary disappeared grumpily, without telling me I could sit down. In fact there were no stools or benches. The room contained only heavy coffers which were probably stuffed with money. Anyone who sat on the strongboxes would imprint himself with a vicious pattern of studs, bands, and bolts. I decided to keep my delicate posterior unmarked.