Fenton watched. It was refilled almost immediately. Fenton crawled back along the balcony to join the others.
'A theme party?' suggested Jamieson.
'It looks too real,' Fenton replied. 'Everything, the mosaics, the marbles, the clothes, the trappings. They all look real.'
Before there was any more time for questions a fanfare sounded from inside and Fenton signalled that they should move out to the windows again. Jamieson joined Fenton at his window; Kelly took the next one along.
'My God,' murmured Jamieson.
A large square of rush matting was being spread out on the floor by four men dressed as slaves. When they had finished one of the Romans, a tall distinguished man wearing a purple trimmed toga, raised his arm for silence.
'That's Monkton,' whispered Jamieson.
The double doors at the end of the room were opened to admit two gladiators, naked to the waist, their bare torsos glistening with oil. They marched down the centre of the room and saluted Monkton by crossing their forearms across their chests. Monkton nodded and the wrestlers began to circle each other on the mat. All lighting in the room had been extinguished save for wall torches and candles. Their spluttering flames were reflected in the sweat of the combatants as they struggled to gain advantage.
Fenton could not take his eyes away from Monkton's face for the man was in the grip of some terrible excitement. He was no longer the urbane man he had been at the beginning, his mouth quivered as he exhorted the wrestlers with silent words to greater efforts. His hand reached out almost absent-mindedly and gripped the thigh of the slave who stood by his couch. The boy, an effeminately pretty youth, winced as Monkton's fingers dug into his flesh but he smiled as soon as Monkton looked up at him. Savagely Monkton pulled the boy's face down on top of his.
'Nice to see a return to Victorian values,' whispered Jamieson.
A few minutes later, as the wrestlers finished their bout to loud applause, Monkton and the boy left the room. Several other pairs did the same. The lighting came up again and the music re-started Fenton and the other two crawled back along the balcony floor and into the safety of the corner.
Fenton asked Jamieson if he had recognised anyone else in the room.
'A few,' replied the policeman. 'Mind you it's hard without their normal clothes. It took me ages to figure out who one of them was, although I knew the face well enough. Then I thought of him in a dog collar…'
'Did anyone see who Vanney was with?' asked Fenton.
'Couldn't see for the pillar,' said Kelly.
Jamieson nodded and said, 'We'll have to wait until he stands up.'
Once more the lights began to dim inside and they returned to their positions beneath the windows in readiness. Fenton could see that the absentees had come back and Monkton was smiling, his features restored to distinguished calm. He raised his arm and the music ceased.
Four slaves marched towards Monkton carrying silver trays with wine jugs and goblets and waited until Monkton personally had poured a little wine into each goblet. All the Romans in the room gathered in a large circle as the wine was handed out then they raised their goblets in some kind of toast and drank in unison.
One of the slaves dropped his jug and it threw up a plume of red wine over Monkton's pristine white toga. Even in the dim lighting Fenton could see the clouds of anger roll across Monkton's face. The slave dashed himself to the floor but Monkton ignored him and made some kind of signal to the man Vanney had been with, the man who had been hidden by the pillar all night. The man had his back to the windows. He was wearing an elaborate head- dress and carried some kind of silver baton in his right hand. A centurion approached him and took orders.
Fenton watched spellbound as a metal frame was brought in to the room and dragged up in front of the man with the baton. Another signal and the slave who had dropped the wine was tied to the frame. One of the guards from the door approached and removed his helmet and cape. In his hand he held a whip.
The man with the baton spread the fingers of his left hand twice to indicate the number ten and the punishment began. Through the glass Fenton and the others could hear the sound of leather hitting flesh. The slave's teeth were bared in anguish and his eyes rolled as the skin on his exposed was back was cut open to mingle blood with the sweat of his fear.
After five lashes his torturer paused to adjust his stance and cover new ground. As the man raised the whip again Fenton got a good look at him and felt weak. 'He was the bastard who beat me up in the pub!' he whispered to Jamieson.
The slave appeared to have passed out. The Roman with the baton put his hand out to his neck to check but as he did so the slave suddenly sank his teeth into the back of his hand. The Roman wrenched his hand away and raised his baton in anger. Fenton waited for it to fall but it did not. The Roman regained his composure and spread his fingers to indicate another five lashes.
The unconscious slave was carried out and the floor cleaned of blood. The lights went up again, glasses were replenished and Monkton held up his hand for silence. 'To business gentlemen!
A murmur ran round the room and then it became quiet. Fenton noted that Jamieson had taken out his notebook. He smiled at Kelly.
'The figures please!' said Monkton.
Monkton stood to one side and another man, small and balding with several long strands of dark hair combed individually across his scalp got to his feet. He held a sheaf of papers in front of him.
'Hale-bloody-lujah,' whispered Jamieson.
Fenton and Kelly looked at him and the policeman said, 'That's Vanney senior.'
Vanney cleared his throat and said, 'Fifty thousand pounds from Theta Electronics for rating concessions on their new premises.' There was applause in the room.
'Two hundred thousand pounds from Corton Brothers for assistance with planning permission for their new housing estate and re-defining of the green belt in that area.
More applause.
'Forty-two thousand pounds for motorway maintenance contracts, fifty thousand pounds for housing stock maintenance contracts in the central region and a total of one hundred and eight thousand pounds for various supply contracts in the country as a whole.'
Loud applause.
'And now gentlemen, an extra item.”Twenty thousand pounds from Saxon Medical for our assistance in obtaining a Department of Health license for their product. Despite subsequent 'problems' I am reliably informed that the sale of the license by Saxon to International Plastics will be deemed tomorrow by the courts to have been made in good faith.'
Vanney held his hands up and shouted above the hubbub, 'I think you all know who we have to thank for that!'
There was general laughter.
'This concludes my report.'
Monkton got to his feet again and announced an end to business for the evening.
“ Let’s get out of here,' whispered Jamieson.
Nobody spoke until they were back at the car then Fenton said, 'I think I'm out of my depth.'
'You are not alone,' conceded Jamieson. 'To do this right is going to take time but I'm going to get every last one of them.'
Fenton said, 'I wish I could have seen the face of the man with the baton. There was something familiar about him.'
'I thought that too,' confessed Kelly. 'But I'm damned if I can think why.'
THIRTEEN
Fenton deliberately chose to drive home fast on the winding coast road for he needed some distraction from thoughts of the evening. Controlling the Honda at high speed demanded his total concentration. Bend after bend loomed up ensuring that the bike was seldom upright for more than a few seconds before being swung over yet
