'I don't doubt your honesty, but you could have been deceived. Let me put your mind at rest.'
The man glared at him for a moment, then said, 'All right, Ellie.'
The weight lifted off Ruso's shoulder as the owner turned into the doorway and yelled, 'Camilla! Here! Now!'
Moments later a small creature with badly bleached hair was blinking pink-rimmed eyes into the daylight.
Ruso shook his head. 'It isn't her.' He leaned forward and put a coin in the hand of the wretched girl, who promptly and automatically handed it to her owner. 'If you see or hear anything,' he added, wondering how many more miserable creatures were caged like animals in places like this, 'the details are posted on the wall down there. There's a reward.'
Four days' growth of stubble on his chin gave him a good excuse to visit the barber. Conversation during the shave was limited to the weather and inquiries after the mother-in-law, who was apparently still a mad old bitch but no longer a mad old bitch with a toothache. Once the blade was put away Ruso ran a thumb along the newly- smooth line of his jaw and said, 'Have you seen the notices about the missing slave girl?'
The barber untied the towel and shook it. 'I heard another one ran off,' he said. 'Expect she'll bob up before long. If she hasn't cremated herself.'
Ruso rose from the stool. 'This one is my housekeeper.'
The man paused. 'Sorry, Doc. No offense meant.'
'I know what you think of people who ask questions, but this is important. If anyone knows anything at all about what happened to the other girls, it's his duty to say something. In confidence, of course.'
The man shrugged and looked away 'Sorry, Doc. Wish I could help.'
Ruso fixed his gaze on the one eye. 'Try harder. I heard you bought some red hair not long ago.'
'Who told you that?'
'Never mind.'
'I buy and sell all the time. It's my business.'
'It was brought in by a man. I need to know who he was. My girl could be in danger.'
The man folded his arms. 'Like I said before. I don't buy from murderers. And like I told you, you're going to get yourself into trouble, going around accusing people.'
'I'm not saying he did it. I'm saying he could have information.'
'If you know so much, why isn't this an official investigation?'
This was getting nowhere. 'She's a Briton,' said Ruso, pulling open his purse to pay for the shave. 'She comes from somewhere up in the hills. I'm hoping she just decided to head for home.'
'More than likely,' agreed the barber.
Ruso handed over the last of his cash and thanked the gods that tomorrow was payday. 'If your wife hears anything…' He hesitated, not wanting to say, If anyone offers you any blond curls that aren't their own… 'Just ignore the official name on the notices,' he concluded. 'Send a message directly to me. There's a reward.'
She'll bob up before long. It was not a cheering thought with which to lean on the damp rail of the bridge and stare downstream at the water swirling along the channels in the mud flats. Ruso had not been gazing for long when he was aware of movement and saw a pair of long brown plaits dangling down over the rail to his left.
'My husband,' announced the stranger, 'is a good man.'
Not sure where this was leading, Ruso decided not to encourage the woman by replying. This was a ploy he regretted as soon as he risked a glance and recognized the barber's wife.
'He looks after his family,' she continued, evidently not put off by the silence. 'He keeps us all. Even my mother, who treats him like a bad smell. He has done nothing wrong.'
Ruso said carefully, 'I haven't accused him of anything.'
'It was nothing to do with him, you understand? He was not involved. People sell hair all the time. It is business.'
'I'm just trying to find my housekeeper,' said Ruso. 'I'm not interested in anything else.'
'They are very loyal to one another,' said the woman. 'You know what the men are like. Stupid, sometimes, but loyal.'
'I understand.'
'Would you betray a comrade?'
Ruso watched a dead branch drifting down one of the channels. 'If I thought it would save a life, I might.'
The branch caught on a mud bank and swung around in the current.
A spur caught in the opposite bank and the branch was stuck, straddling the flow.
He said, 'So, it was a soldier.'
'A veteran.'
'And this was shortly after the last girl disappeared?'
The woman nodded. 'My husband didn't know the girl was dead, you understand? It was just business.'
Water was pouring over the branch in a long shimmering curl that crashed down into a line of foam.
Ruso said, 'I have no money with me, but I will see to it that you are-'
The bar of the bridge gave a sudden shudder as the woman's fist landed on it. 'I am not doing this for money! You Romans, you think everything is for money!'
'I need more help,' he explained. 'I need a description. A name, if you have one.'
'I came to speak with you,' said the woman, ignoring his words with a haughtiness that reminded him painfully of Tilla, 'because I think you are a good man.'
'I'll be grateful for anything you can tell me that might help my servant.'
'I do not know,' she said, 'how the man got the red hair. For all I know, the girl may have cut if off by herself and given it to him to sell.
He is the only one who can tell you that; you must ask him.'
'How do I find this man?'
'I do not know his name,' she said, 'but he works at Merula's bar.'
66
At Merula’s most of the lunchtime customers had gone, leaving only a few hangers-on who had nowhere better to go, or else no inclination to go there. Tomorrow would be different, insisted Stichus as he palmed the coins Ruso had just borrowed from Valens. Tomorrow was payday. Stichus indicated the girls seated around the bar. Today, a customer could take his pick.
Ruso was glad there were few witnesses to see Chloe rise from the table with a smile, slide her hand into his, and lead him up the stairs.
The cubicle was, he knew, the best the place had to offer. The wide bed was strewn with plump blue cushions. Chloe pulled the door shut behind them and the yellow glow of a lamp rose to help the light that struggled in through a small pane of bubbly glass. Ruso found himself trying to work out a tangle of naked bodies painted on the walls in various uncomfortable-looking combinations as Chloe's arms slid around his waist. He felt her breath against his ear. 'I knew you'd change your mind,' she murmured.
Ruso grasped both her hands and held them still. He opened his mouth to speak and found himself suddenly hoarse, but managed, 'I just want to talk.'
'You can talk to me,' whispered Chloe, nuzzling the back of his neck. 'I'm a good listener. It's nice and private here. You can tell me anything you want.' He felt a gentle push toward the bed. 'Let's get comfortable, shall we?'
As he felt himself sink into the cushions, he reasoned that it would do no harm. Chloe was very attractive. She was warm. She was willing. She was a professional, and he had paid. He could always talk to her afterward.
She was curled around him on the bed, pressing herself against him. He glanced down to watch her foot sliding up his thigh. The charms on her ankle bracelet trembled with each movement. Her skin was smooth. Her
