'Oh there's a devious plan,' scoffed Helena sarcastically. 'Listen to this gem: the Praetorians have put up a personal notice in the Forum. You know the sort: Gaius from Metapontus is hoping his friends from abroad will see this and find him at the Golden Apple in Garlic Street.'
'Ridiculous!' I chortled. 'Everyone knows Gaius from Metapontus is a stifling bore, and his friends try to avoid him. In fact, now he's in Rome, they have all sailed off to the Maritime Alps in a boatload of fish-pickle – ' 'Be serious, Marcus.' 'I am. The Golden Apple is a dump; anyone who stays there is dicing with ruin -' Helena admitted defeat and played my game: 'While Garlic Street is well known as a thieves' kitchen, even though it's not as bad as Haymakers' Lane… I didn't bother arguing with Anacrites. There are other ways to deal with fools. I just smiled sweetly and thanked Titus for listening to me.' 'And?' 'What would you have done, Marcus? When I left the audience, I walked down to the Forum and looked for the advertisement.'
I stopped. Nux took advantage of this to inspect a rotting half chicken carcass in the gutter. I kissed Helena gently on the forehead, then I gazed at her with undiluted affection. No informer could want a more intelligent and trustworthy partner. I liked to think my training had played some part in her aptitude, but she gave me a stem look and I refrained from claiming credit. 'You are exceptional.'
'Anyone could do it.' Many would not have done. 'On the other hand,' Helena continued, still cruelly dismissive of the Chief Spy's stratagem, 'Veleda can have no idea she should look for a personal advertisement. She will never see it. Anyway, most Celtic tribes can't read.' 'And did you find the cunning invitation painted up?' 'Elegant lettering in dark red paint. Looks like an election poster; nobody will read the thing, Marcus. And you will hate this: Quintus is "staying with friends by the Palatine". He is the house guest of a certain Tiberius Claudius Anacrites.'
XXVIII
It was time to regroup.
Later that night Helena had a message from her father, whose interview with Vespasian had passed off in a friendly spirit. The Emperor had told him openly where his son was, and said he would be allowed to see the young prisoner. Decimus intended to visit Anacrites' house tomorrow. 'Mother can go too.' 'What about Claudia?' 'Papa and Vespasian agreed it will be better if she stays away. They don't want Claudia losing her temper with Quintus and smashing up the Spy's statue collection.' 'Anacrites collects art?' 'Cornered a niche market, apparently. Vespasian hasn't seen any, but he thinks it is rather saucy.' 'Pornography?' 'Erotic nudes, you are supposed to say, Marcus.' 'That's just typical. I bet Anacrites hasn't mentioned his rude collection to my mother!' I could tell Ma, but she would refuse to believe me.
It seemed that Vespasian was taking a benign view of the fact that in earlier years the senator's brother had been a political plotter. This dangerous past history could make a suspicious emperor regard all of the Camilli darkly. (Not only the Emperor: his advisers too. Had I not known the family well, I would myself certainly have judged them risky in the present situation.) So far, they were surviving. Even so, it might not last. I knew enough to be wary of politicians – even jolly old coves like Vespasian.
Perhaps lover-reacted, but I was afraid Justinus' connection with Veleda would cast doubts on his loyalty to Rome. That could finally crush his family. Justinus, his future once so promising after our original German escapade, was bound to be blacklisted if he showed emotional ties to the priestess. His father and brother would then be coloured politically too. None of them could expect any further social advancement. Their disgrace might even affect me, now I was openly living with Justinus' sister. But I had been born a plebeian. I was so used to being at the bottom of the middenheap, few scandals could touch me. There were ways out of trouble for me, in any case. My work – undercover jobs that the Emperor would always need – could bleach out any grime that tried to stick to me.
Now it was urgent that I find Veleda. I wanted the kudos of beating Anacrites. Out of fuendship to the Camillus family, I also wanted to show Vespasian and Titus that I was energetically assisting the state. That might just help my in-laws' position.
I had to establish whether or not the priestess had killed Gratianus Scaeva. Upon that would depend how I handled the fleeing invalid if I ever traced her. I decided to go back over the murder. The incident had led to Veleda's flight; I wanted to know much more about it.
So next morning I had another lie-in, this time planning action with Helena. It might have been a romantic occasion, but our children had managed to prise the bedroom door open, so we had two heavy toddlers jumping all over us. When the dog put her paws on the edge of the coverlet and began licking my face, I got up. I scribbled a to-do list, which ran: Ganna (Ma) Zosime Victor + Pa Senator (lunch fixed up by Helena) Quadrumatus house Petro? If I could work through that lot in one day, I would be proud of myself
In our discussions, Helena never asked me to devise a way to set her brother free. She probably knew I thought it best if Justinus was held securely until the priestess was found. In fact, none of the Camillus family at any point suggested a rescue. That does not mean the idea never occurred to me. This morning, I would have the luxury of interviewing in my own home. For once, I had helpers. I sent Clemens and a couple of his lads to fetch Zosime, from the Temple of iEsculapius, and also to bring in Victor, the vigiles nark from the Saepta Julia who had seen Justinus captured by the Praetorians. I told Clemens I wanted to see my father too, but he was so nosy that when he saw Victor being gathered up, he would race along to our house of his own accord.
While some legionaries – humbled by their failure to stick with me yesterday – organised those errands, Helena took a pair of the spares out for provisions. Carrying my daughter Julia, I hopped up the Hill to my mother's house.
Ma was slapping dough around in a cloud of flour, in company with Aristagoras, her neighbour. Despite his age, the papery swain was agile on his walking sticks. She brushed aside his adulation but let him into her apartment sometimes and gave him a panfried sardine to reward his faithfulness. On my arrival she always sent him packing.
'My son's here! I'll have to ask you to go.' There was no need to shelter behind me so primly but I knew better than to interfere with my mother's complicated reasoning. Aristagoras never bore me a grudge; he tottered off, with fish sauce all down his tunic. Ma's sunny social glance hardened. 'What do you want, Marcus?' 'I have brought this dear child to see her grandmama.' 'Don't expect Julia to soften me up!' 'No, Ma.' She was wrong. It never failed. Every informer should maintain a cute infant, to help him interview intractable old dames.
I hoped that Anacrites might have said more to Ma about holding Justinus, but the aggravating swine had not. I just brought down a lecture about how sad it was that the poor Spy, who had no family, would be all on his own at Saturnalia. Fortunately, Mother was sidetracked; she had learned what the girls were plotting about her gift of eye treatment. 'And what do you think?' I asked cautiously. 'I'm not having it! I don't want to be cut.' 'He'll just use a kind of needle. They gently poke the scales aside.' Ma shuddered, with high drama. I could have tried to persuade her, but I chickened out. My sisters had thought this up; they could deal with the obstinacy. 'What do you think?' Ma demanded unexpectedly, peering at me. 'It's a good idea, Ma.' She sniffed. Still, she hated being hampered in her active, scheming life. Perhaps she would accept the operation. If it went wrong, she would blame me. She always enjoyed that. I changed the subject, asking after the young girl I had left in her charge. Ganna had been hidden away in the back room when Aristagoras came and was still there, so I had the chance to ask Ma in private how she was getting on with the acolyte. 'I'm knocking her into shape.' Surprise! 'You keep her in?' 'Except when we make a little trip together to a market or temple.' 'Has she said anything?' 'She fooled you plenty. There's a lot she's holding back.' I said I thought that might be the situation, which was why I had come to interrogate Ganna now that I knew more about my case. Ma sniffed again, grabbed little Julia, and sent me in to the girl.