The Queen listened, making no comment, but watching with dark, heavily etched eyes. I wondered what she made of us. Had Titus told her who he had sent for? If so, how did he describe us? Did she expect this low-born man with tired limbs and chin stubble, bossed into easy submission by a cool creature who spoke to the Emperor's son like one of her own brothers?
Helena continued to include the Queen: "We are talking about a symbolic ceremony in which the chosen girl leaves the authority of her own family, and abandons all her possessions as a member of that family, then becomes a child of Vesta. Her hair is shaved off and hung on a sacred tree-though of course, it is afterwards allowed to grow again; she dons the formal attire of a Vestal Virgin, and from that day begins her training. If the chosen child were not present when her name was called, it would be very awkward."
"Impossible," said Titus.
I chewed thoughtfully on a lobster dumpling. Tut, tut; the chef had left a piece of shell. I removed it with a pained expression, as if I expected better here.
"I thought Rutilius Gallicus was your commissioner in the search for Gaia Laelia?" Helena asked Titus, perhaps reproving him for interference. I caught the eye of the young Caesar and smiled faintly. Time was, he had had me on the hop whenever he summoned me to a meeting. Well, I was respectable now; I could bring along my talented, well-bred girlfriend to defend me like a gladiator's trainer choreographing a fight.
She had waved up an attendant with a wine flagon, but when the boy reached us, she took the vessel from him and poured my drink herself. The attendant looked startled. Helena flashed him a smile, and he jumped back, unaccustomed to acknowledgment.
"Yes, well…" Titus was hedging. I had always reckoned he could be devious, so this was unlike him. I sipped the wine. Helena leaned forwards, as if waiting to hear what Titus had to say. Her flimsy stole had slipped down her back. Curled tendrils of her hair wafted on her neck. I reached out my free hand and tugged one of the soft tendrils so she sat nearer to me again. In defiance of protocol, I put my arm around her.
"Some extra dimension, Caesar?" Now the authoritative tone was mine. I thought Berenice sharpened her gaze slightly, wondering whether Helena would accept my takeover. She did, of course. The refined and elegant Helena Justina knew that if she gave me any trouble I was going to tickle her neck until she collapsed in fits.
"This is rather sensitive, Falco." It would be. I might be Procurator of the Sacred Geese, but I remained the fixer who was given all the rough jobs. "I just want to beg you to do all you can."
"Marcus will continue until he has found the child." Long practiced, Helena had worked free of my restraining arm.
"Yes, of course." Titus looked submissive. Then he looked at Berenice. She seemed to be waiting for something; he seemed embarrassed. He admitted, "There has been some bad feeling about the Queen and me."
I inclined my head politely. At my side, Helena took my hand. Surely, she cannot have imagined I would say something rude? The man was in love. It was sad to watch.
"Ridiculous!" scoffed Titus. In his eyes, Berenice could do no wrong, and anyone who suggested there were problems was being unkind and irrational. He should have known better-as his father had done, when Berenice first tried her wiles on the old man himself.
The lovers were insulated here; they might have convinced themselves everything was fine. This would carry Titus through a great deal of public disapproval. But he would have to face the truth when Vespasian himself decided to bust up the love nest.
Murmurs of discontent must have already reached the romantic pair. "As you may know," Titus told me in a firm, formal voice, as if he were speech-making, "the last time the missing child, Gaia Laelia, was seen publicly was at a reception which was given to allow all the young lottery candidates to meet Queen Berenice."
"Gaia Laelia spent part of the afternoon on the Queen's lap," I said. "I'm glad you raised this, Caesar-I understand there was some kind of commotion?"
"You are well informed, Falco!"
"My contacts are everywhere." He thought about that. I regretted saying it.
"This may be important," Helena said to Berenice. "Can you tell us what the fuss was?"
"No." Titus answered for the Queen. "All the girl talked about was her pleasure in being selected-I mean, being subjected to the lottery."
I was beginning to wonder if Berenice lacked Latin. However, this was the woman who, while sharing the Judaean kingdom with her incestuous brother, had once protested volubly against the barbarity of a Roman governor in Jerusalem; she was a fearless orator who had appealed for clemency for her people barefoot, though in danger of her life. She could speak out when she wanted to.
And now she did. Ignoring Titus studiously, she appeared to override his instructions to keep her mouth shut: "The child was rather quiet. After I seemed to win her confidence, she suddenly exclaimed, 'Please let me stay here. There is a mad person at home who is going to kill me!' I was alarmed. I thought the child herself must be crazy. Attendants came forward immediately and took her away."
To her credit, the Queen looked disturbed by remembering the incident.
"Did anyone investigate her claims?" I asked.
"For heaven's sake, Falco," snapped Titus. "Who could believe it? She comes from a very good family!"
"Oh, that's all right, then," I retorted caustically.
"We made a mistake," he admitted.
I had to accept it, since so had I. "Gaia also talked at some length, that day and I believe on a subsequent occasion, to the Vestal Constantia," I told him. "Would it be possible for you to arrange officially for me to interview Constantia?"
He pursed his lips. "It is thought preferable not to allow that, in case it should give the wrong impression. There must be no suggestion of any specific link between one particular child and the Vestals. We would not want to compromise the lottery."
That clinched it for me. I had no doubts now: the lottery was not just compromised, it was a cold-blooded fix.
"With Gaia Laelia mysteriously missing, the reception has had unforeseen and rather unfortunate consequences," Titus said. The food was starting to revive me, but I was still so tired I must have been slow. "It has been seized on by scandalmongers."
Belatedly, I caught up. "Surely the Queen is not being linked to the disappearance of a child she had only met once, and then formally?"
As soon as I said it, I could see the predicament. Slander need not be believable. Gossip is always more enjoyable if it looks likely to be untrue.
Berenice was Judaean. It was believed that Titus had promised her marriage. He may indeed have done so, though his father was unlikely ever to allow it. Ever since Cleopatra, Romans have had a horror of exotic foreign women stealing the hearts of their generals and subverting the peace and prosperity of Rome.
Titus spoke harshly. "Madness!" Maybe. But an accusation that Berenice was a child-killer-or a Vestal Virgin abductor-was just the kind of ridiculous rumor that fools would want to believe. "Falco, I want this girl found."
For a moment, I did feel sorry for them. The woman had to go home again-but it ought to be for the proper reasons, not because of some sleaze dreamed up by political opponents. Instead, the Flavians would have to show that they understood what Rome required and that, if he were to become emperor one day, Titus was man enough to face his responsibilities.
To lighten the atmosphere, I said gently, "If I do find Gaia safe and alive, and if it is too late for the lottery, I have just one request-can somebody else have the task of explaining to the weeping child that she will not be a Vestal Virgin after all?"
Titus relaxed and laughed.
Helena, who had been quietly munching the tidbits while I talked, now jumped to her feet and pulled me after her. Visitors were supposed to wait until they were dismissed by royalty, but that did not bother her. Until I was made middle-class, it would not have bothered me either-so I reached back shamelessly for another lobster knickknack. "He needs to rest," my beloved told Titus.