Medicus

had now vanished into the dusk along with her grandson. Ruso had a smooth chin, short hair, and he hadn't been bitten once.

As he closed his case he was still weighing whether to knock the cost of the haircut off the fee. Charges tended to fluctuate depending upon the means of the patient, but asking too little was as bad as asking too much. Word got around. Precedents were hard to break.

'About the fee…'

The barber frowned. 'I know you had a bit of a wait, Doc. But you did have professional services during the waiting time.'

'Exactly.'

'The other officer told the lad it was a flat rate.'

Ruso's face must have betrayed his confusion. 'The other officer?'

'Old what shisname-Priscus. Up at the hospital. Recommended you very highly.'

'I see.'

'He said you'd got an arrangement. We pay him and he passes it on to you.'

'Ah,' said Ruso, 'that arrangement.'

Ruso strode across the paved area toward the fountain, the fall of each boot on the flagstones coinciding with the rhythm of the speech he was rehearsing for Priscus. 'And exactly what right have you…?' He was distracted by a gaggle of children gathered by the steps that ran up the outside of the amphitheater. On the wall behind them he could just make out the white of a chalk scrawl announcing the forthcoming visit of L. CURTIUS SILVANUS, DEALER IN SLAVES: RELIABLE STAFF FOR THE DISCERNING EMPLOYER. Below, half a dozen children were scrabbling to peer into the hand of a boy whom he recognized as the barber's son.

'Ugh, look, there's roots!'

'Look at the blood on them!'

'Did you see the worms wriggling?'

He was passing the entrance to the oil merchant's when one of them shouted, 'Hey, mister! Got a penny, mister?'

Ruso ignored him. Others joined in the chorus. He could hear their footsteps running up behind him. 'Mister! Mister!'

Ruso spun on his heel and the gang stopped dead, a small and ragged bunch gathered just out of arm's reach. He pointed to the barber's son. 'Does your father know you beg in the street?'

The boy hesitated, then grinned. 'I know something you don't,' he said.

'No doubt.'

'I'll tell you, but you got to pay me first.'

'Why would I do that?'

The boy glanced at his comrades, then sidled closer to Ruso. 'I know something about red hair.'

Ruso stared at him.

'I heard you ask. You want to know about somebody selling red hair.'

'Somebody sold red hair to your father?'

The boy held out one hand, and made a show of clamping the other over his mouth.

Ruso sighed, and filched out the one meager coin inside his purse.

The boy took it and removed his hand from his mouth to let out the words, 'It was a man.'

'Do you know his name?'

'No.'

'What sort of a man? What did he look like?'

The boy looked at his friends for support. 'I don't know. He was just a man.'

'Old, young, fat, thin? It's no good holding out, I haven't got any more money.'

The boy frowned. 'He was old.'

'Was he a soldier?'

'I don't know,' said the boy, backing away.

'When was this?'

The boy's friends closed around him. 'He was just a man!' he called as they turned and fled.

A man. Ruso frowned at the backs of the retreating children. With a little effort civilian liaison could have found that out-and probably more-days ago. In the morning H Q would be receiving another report, and might even have to interrupt their hunting trips to go and question the barber. In the meantime, Ruso had told the boy the truth. Despite treating his second private patient in Deva, he had no cash in his purse.

Another thought struck him. Priscus's lodgings were somewhere on the east side of the town. He might be at home. According to Decimus, who was not as discreet as Albanus, the miserable old weasel had gone home to keep an appointment with his decorator.

Ruso tightened his grip on the handle of his case. Why wait for morning? He spun around. He was going to straighten out this business of the fees right now.

'Ow!'

The girl he collided with stumbled back against the wall. He made a grab to steady her and knocked something from her hand. It clanged as it hit the pavement. 'Sorry,' he said as the noise reverberated down the narrow street. 'I didn't see you.'

The girl shook off his hand and bent to retrieve the item she had dropped. 'If this bloody thing's broken again, you'll pay for it. It's only just been-'

'Chloe?'

'Oh! Hullo, Doctor.' Chloe held a large saucepan up for inspection.

She wiggled the handle experimentally. 'Still attached. No harm done.'

Ruso frowned. 'Should you be wandering alone out here? It's getting dark.'

He was conscious of an arm snaking around the back of his neck.

'Mm,' Chloe murmured, 'you never know who you might run into.'

Cheap perfume wafted over him as a husky voice whispered in his ear, 'Fancy a little stroll?'

'No,' said Ruso's mouth before the rest of him had a chance to argue.

Chloe detached herself and shrugged. 'Oh well, it was worth a try Sweet dreams, Doctor.' Swinging the pan by her side, she set off in the direction of Merula's.

She had not gone ten paces when Ruso caught up with her.

'Change your mind?'

'I need to know where the street of the Weavers is.'

'Ask me nicely.'

'Tell me and I'll walk you back. Why didn't they send someone with you?'

'What for? I'm not going to run away, am I?'

'That wasn't what I meant,' he said, falling into step with her.

'I'm going straight back.' Chloe lifted the saucepan. 'And I'm armed.'

'I'm serious.'

'Asellina was unlucky,' she said. 'Saufeia was clueless.'

'I heard she was quite bright.'

'Not in any ways that were of any use to her.'

'No, I gather she wasn't brought up for, uh… for your kind of life.'

'Not many people are, are they? Some of us just find we have a natural talent.'

Ruso smiled. 'Tilla seems to have convinced herself that Saufeia was doomed by the curse of being able to read and write.'

For a moment Chloe did not answer, then she said quietly, 'No offense, Doctor, but if you want to do Tilla any favors, you tell her to keep out of what doesn't concern her.'

It was his second warning in one evening. 'Chloe,' he said, 'do you know something about what happened to Saufeia?'

'Me? I don't know a thing. And if anybody asks, you can tell them I said so.'

They walked on in silence. When they reached the bakery, Chloe paused and turned. The light from the torch outside Merula's was making a halo in her hair. 'Thanks for walking me back, Doc. I appreciate it.'