"I wish Petro had taken the advice."
"The mother was a fright," Helena reminisced. "All threats and venom. And Balbina Milvia! One of those girls I hate-bright eyes and loads of enviable jewelry. Much too pretty to bother with good manners or brains."
"Bad sex!" I exclaimed.
Helena looked shocked. "How do you know that? Did Petronius Longus tell you, during some evil drinking bout?"
"Actually, no. He has never talked about his lovers." He and I had leered at plenty of women from wine bars over the years; I knew how he thought. "But you can see Milvia is only interested in herself. She wanted Petronius because having a secret lover made her feel important."
Helena still felt she had stumbled on evidence of some boys' lewd game. She had never entirely trusted me not to be off on some affair. Chloris was the current suspect, of course. Frowning, she went back to our original discussion. "You thought Milvia was trouble."
"I was right."
"As for the husband, he was ineffectual."
"Not nowadays. It's all change in the Balbinus mob. The mother is showing her age. Who knows where the willful wifey is? But Florius has transmogrified from a loose piece of gristle into one of the world's tight
dealers. His treatment of Verovolcus shows he suffers nobody to stand in his way now."
Helena was concerned. "Florius had you attacked once. Then Petro was caught alone, and he was very badly hurt."
"A warning."
"Yet Petronius is still determined to get Florius? While Florius knows exactly who he is dealing with: Petronius Longus of the vigiles inquiry team, who turned Florius' sweet little, rich little wife into an adulteress- and then didn't even want her, but dumped her back at home."
"I'm sure he gave Milvia a happy time first," I said. It was automatic. Then I thought of him kissing my sister last night in that grim scenario, and I felt squeamish.
"What's wrong?" asked Helena. I shook my head. After a moment she let it go and said, "These people want revenge."
"That's right. And they won't quit."
I stood up. I stood wondering where my sister was. Off enjoying herself on some tryst with the suave and slimy Norbanus, while her last night's lover was in serious trouble.
I decided to retrace my steps to the baths. Petro would turn up sometime. But first the hour was late enough to take in lunch here. Hilaris must be ravenous too, after our dawn start when the corpse was found, for we met him also guiltily scrounging in the dining room. That was how Helena and I happened to be with him when a confidential messenger arrived from the troops. In a great hurry, the man was looking for the governor. Hilaris knew Frontinus was still working diligently on dispatches, but before the messenger was passed to the right office, Hilaris made him tell us what the fuss was. Splice had escaped.
We all rushed with the messenger to see the governor. Frontinus heard the news with that neutrality good officials learn. He must have been angry, but waited to think through the implications before shooting off.
"What exactly happened?"
"I only know what I was told to say, sir." The messenger skillfully let blame slide onto others. "The soldiers escorting the prisoner were somehow given the slip and they lost him."
"That was first thing this morning. How come I only just have word of it?"
"They tried to recapture him, sir."
Frontinus was speechless. Losing a vital prisoner was inexcusable. But to me it seemed typical; I could imagine some slack bunch of lags out there, laughing among themselves: Oh, just say sorry to the old man-he'll be all right about it…
"I warned you about the troops."
"You did." Frontinus was terse. In a frontier province, dereliction of duty was a decimation crime: one man in ten, chosen by lot, would be bludgeoned to death by his disgraced colleagues. That would not be the end of it. The effect on morale would be grim, both here and up at the frontiers when the rumors raced there.
An aide was hovering. Frontinus rapped out orders, hardly pausing for reflection. "Get me the commander. Before he comes over, I want that detail stripped of their weapons and armor, then held in chains. They are to be guarded by men from one of the other detachments, not their own legion. Disarm their centurion and bring him here to me. I want every on-duty legionary to go out in a search party. I want the troops put on permanent standby. It goes without saying, I want the prisoner back."
Some hopes, I thought.
"Today!" he added. Julius Frontinus now saw his provincial capital slipping into anarchy. Luckily, he was a practical man, and action helped him cope. Even so, I had rarely seen him so tight-lipped.
I was even more depressed. But then I had worked against the Balbinus mob before.
XLI
On my way out I was stopped by a message from the torturer. Amicus, the sardonically named Befriender, had made up for losing the chance to prick holes in Pyro and Splice. He had tackled the waiters with a heated manicure set, then turned the recalcitrant barber almost inside out with a contraption I tried not to look at.
"I am sorry not to have a crack at this Splice," he grieved when I sought him out in the bowels of the residence. "He sounds an interesting prospect. I hope they get him back for me. Do you know how he acquired the nickname, Falco?"
"I suspect you are about to tell me-and it will be unpleasant."
He chortled. Maybe his happy manner helped unnerve his victims; the contrast with his pain-inflicting side certainly disturbed me. "Splice wanted to punish two snackshop owners, cousins who shared a bar jointly, and who were refusing to pay up. He went in one night and hacked both men in two from top to bottom. Then he bound the left side of each body to the right-hand side of the other. He left the results Propped up against the serving counter."
"Jupiter!"
"That's apt. Jupiter is a favorite with this gang," agreed Amicus Warmly. "Plenty of signboards with the same mythical theme. Apt, since
the Best and Greatest is the patron god of grapes and wine. Also it lets everyone see just how many businesses have paid up."
"Yes, I worked that out."
"But you don't spot them all," rebuked Amicus. "I'll come to that… First I shall tell you what I have." He was pedantic in giving reports. "The organization works thus: there are two equal leaders, both currently engaged in setting up a British crime community. One takes the sporty premises-brothels, betting, and fixing fights for gladiators. The other collects neighborhood food and drink shops. They have come from Rome, but are planning to leave when their empire here is established. Pyro and Splice were intended to run this section for them."
"Does the gang have a tame lawyer, one Popillius?"
"Not mentioned. They do have storage, ships, safe houses, a safe bathhouse even, and large groups of heavy fighters. Some thugs they brought here, mainly seasoned criminals who found Rome too hot for comfort. Some are being recruited locally. Bad boys are rushing to join them. That is how they met the man who died."
"Verovolcus, you mean? Yes, he was on the run… How do they attract these local boys? Don't tell me they advertise for hired labor on a pillar in the forum-free time, victuals and drink, plenty of beating up the populace?"
Amicus shrugged. "Word of mouth, bound to be. I can ask."
"It's not important. Assuming we catch Splice again, what can he be charged with?"