Leaving Apollonius to it, Petro and I set off through the mayhem. By now everyone was boasting and belching in established groups, but they let us push past if we shoved at their hot bodies hard enough. It took some time to force a passage, so when we finally arrived at the doorway, we found that Fusculus had the situation in hand. He had got rid of most of the troublemakers by telling them about 'a bloody big get-together over in Lobster Street'. The last couple, who were too drunk to take in what he had said, were being dragged away backwards by determined troopers. You may think only idiots would try to invade a vigiles celebration without tickets. You would be right. They were idiots – and I had met them before.
'Falco!' It took me a moment to identify where the bleary salutation came from, and then to remember the man responsible. His greeting filled me with foreboding. 'We want to party with you.' Oh dear. The cohort supper was hardly the exotic function Ermanus had invited me to the other day, but my eager friends from the German community had probably been drinking and fornicating for the past two nights. They were way beyond exercising judgement when they spotted a party. Had they not stumbled upon the vigiles' venue first, they were out of it enough to crash a grannies' sewing circle if the lamplight attracted them.
Ermanus and one of his large pals had gone limp in the arms of their vigiles captors, but only as a preliminary to bursting free so they could try again to rush the door. Fusculus and Petro were ready for that trick and just leaned on them, attempting to avoid physical damage. Suddenly they gave a concerted heave and threw the two gatecrashers back at the vigiles bouncers. Since one of those was Sergius, the squad's torture and beatings specialist, I shook my head sadly, warning the two Germans to give in and go away while they still had unbroken legs to take them and possessed the will to live.
Ermanus refused to take the hint. He was struggling like a bullock that had smelt blood on the altar, mainly fired up by his eagerness to discuss life and love with me. He and his friend were deeply and desperately drunk. They were now teetering on the brink of unconsciousness; if they did pass out, they would probably never come round again. It was better if they stayed on their feet and kept going until kindly Nature let their brains recover a little. 'Falco! – Friend!'
I wanted to escape. Petronius glanced at me and winced. He knew the score. If I did try to converse with these bonny boys it would be as difficult as wading knee deep through wet quicksand, and as pointless. They could barely remember anything for longer than three seconds. I was ready to wave goodbye, knowing that my exit was bound to result in vile curses that I was an unfriendly bastard. Then Ermanus, who could see my lack of community spirit, came up with bleary words that he knew were bound to hold my interest, 'The old fellows are going to get her, you know!' I stopped. 'How's that, Ermanus?' 'The old fellows…' He wandered off into some befogged world of his own. 'Did I mention the old fellows. Falco?' 'You did, my friend.' 'They know. They know he's keeping bait… bait for the one we never mention. Old fellows. Going to get her. Going to get her with the bait. Clever old fellows… Going to get the bait.' 'Oy, oy!' muttered Petro, aware that this sounded like trouble and guessing what it could be about. 'How's that, Ermanus?' I asked, as firmly as I could. My drunken soul mate beamed at me admiringly. 'Falco!… Can't tell you.'
'Oh go on,' I cooed at him, like a bad lover trying to persuade some winsome girl to take her clothes off. I dared not look at Petronius Longus or Fusculus. 'Give me a thrill, Ermanus. What are the old ones planning?'
'Go to his house. Grab her fancyman… She's one of ours. We should have her…' He passed out. Sergius and the other vigiles laid him carefully on the pavement in a neat position. Seeing this, his intoxicated German companion took the easy option and subsided with a peaceful little groan. He was lined up next to Ermanus. I bent down to check they were breathing. A gassy miasma of three-day-old wine fumes confirmed it. I reeled back, shielding my face. Straightening, I sought Petro's gaze. This was a disaster. The last thing I wanted was those elderly social misfits carrying off a raid to capture Quintus, so they could use him to entice Veleda to them. The mere attempt was bad news for Rome. Bad news for them too, if they got on the wrong side of Anacrites. I cursed. 'Petro, Nero's retired German guards have been unsettled since Galba disbanded them. Now they're planning a revival we can do without. If they ever get to control Veleda it will be a nightmare. If they bring this off, we're stuffed. I have to stop them.'
'You'd better get to the Spy's house before the Germans do,' said Petro, with rather too much interest. I wondered how much he had drunk this evening. More than I had thought, apparently. He looked ready to rob temples of their treasure, if some bright maniac suggested a romp. He was up for anything.
All the same, I had no intention of stopping him, if he was prepared to help. We thought about the situation. That is, we both thought but only for the time it took to close our eyes and groan. 'You could just warn Anacrites.' 'And party on? How civic.' I knew 'civic' would be an insult to Lucius Petronius.
'Rats. Are you on, Falco?' You might imagine I had to beg him for help, but Petronius, that madcap adventurer, had already decided to involve himself and was checking with me.
I buried my surprise. 'Pity to miss the lads' night out.'
'Oh don't worry.' Petro appeared to do calculations. 'The night is young. We should have time to manage it: gather some back-up, break into the Spy's house, grab Camillus, hide him somewhere private – and still get back to the party before the wine runs out.'
XXXIV
Anacrites' house lay in darkness, apparently. A small group of us assembled silently in the street below the Palatine and surveyed the area. For once the Forum, behind us, seemed deserted. No lights showed at the house; the gates were barred. It looked the same as when I came here before in the dead of night, though that was no guarantee that the Spy was away from home. It was not essential that he should be out tonight, but it would be safer for us if he was. As we walked here, I had suggested we devise a plan. No need: Petronius Longus already had one. My mend was a man of surprises. I could not even remember telling him that Anacrites was holding Juscinus, and why, but Petro seemed to know all about it. When I had discussed this situation with the senator and with Helena, I had decided it was easiest to leave Justinus here, reading endless Greek plays. But since the German guards were trying to lift the prisoner, Petronius saw there was a need for radical action. His plan was: pretend the vigiles had smelt smoke at the house, cry 'Fire!', then use their legal authority to march in, conduct a search for human life, find Justinus, and haul him out. 'Rescue him like a house fire victim. Simple, eh?' 'You mean, thought up by a simpleton? It will never work.' 'Watch us,' said Petro, giving the nod to Fusculus and whistling a signal to some of his lads.
The first stage went as I expected. A couple of vigiles were given a leg-up; they climbed over the high wall, taking a covered lantern they had conveniently brought with them. Deep-throated guard dogs started barking almost at once, then abruptly fell silent. The lads returned unscathed and said they had set fire to some piles of leaves. I was puzzled by what happened next: Petronius let out a loud whistle, of the kind the watch use to signal for reinforcements when they detect a fire during their night rounds. Instead of rushing straight to the front door, we just settled unobtrusively into the shadows and kept quiet. 'Aren't we going in?' 'Shut up, Falco!' After a while, when nothing happened, Petro muttered derisively then whistled again, louder. This time we heard swiftly marching feet. A regular bunch of vigiles came around a corner, heading for our location. Petronius stepped out into the light of their flares. 'Oh officers, I am so glad to see you. I was just on my way to a party with a group of friends when we smelt smoke. It seems to be coming from that house over there…' 'Have you roused the household, sir?' 'Can't get any answer. They probably think we are drunks causing trouble and don't realise we are public-spirited citizens.' 'Well, thank you. You can leave it to us now. Don't worry, sir; we'll soon have it sorted-'