'We'd tell him to come back tomorrow, sir. We aren't allowed to handle cash. We don't have the facilities.'
Valens had gone by the time Ruso got back to his surgery. 'Albanus,' he said, 'I need to get at the records of the Aesculapian fund. I need to, uh-find out how much I owe. I was supposed to pay it back today and I haven't had time.'
Albanus frowned. 'They'll be in the administrator's office, sir. Nobody can get in there.'
Ruso looked him in the eye. 'Is that definitely true, Albanus? Surely a man as thorough as Priscus would arrange for a spare key somewhere in case one got lost?'
Albanus was chewing the end of his stylus. 'I really couldn't say, sir. Officer Priscus wouldn't tell the clerks anything like that.'
'No, because he's a secretive bastard. But you know where it is, don't you?'
'Sir, I really can't-'
'Albanus, I am your superior officer and this is an order. Find a way to get me into that room.'
Albanus stood at attention. 'Yes, sir!'
'I'm sorry, sir. I don't think it's here.'
They had been through the whole of the Aesculapian Thanksgiving Fund file twice, the second time struggling to read by lamplight. Ruso sighed. 'It's no use. He's taken it with him.'
'Is there anything I can do, sir? Shall I keep looking?'
Ruso shook his head. 'Put all this stuff away and lock up. I've got to go out for a while. I'll go and warn Valens he's on his own.'
Valens was predictably annoyed but unable to prevent his colleague from leaving.
Making his way down to the south gate Ruso heard footsteps running along behind him in the darkness. 'Doctor, sir!' gasped a breathless Albanus.
'I'm in a hurry, Albanus. Can't it wait?'
'No, sir, I don't think it can.'
'Walk with me.'
The clerk fell into step with him. 'Sir, you remember I said there was that one thing I needed to say to you?'
'What was it?'
'Well, sir, you know I went through all the incoming post logs looking for a letter from Saufeia and I didn't find one?'
'You've found one?'
'Not exactly, sir. But I thought, maybe it came in some other way and somebody replied to it. So I went back and looked through the outgoing logs instead.'
'And?'
'And I found it. A letter to Saufeia. Dated two days before she died.'
'Is there a file copy?'
'No, sir, just a listing in the log. Date, who to, who from.'
'And are you going to tell me who it was from, or do I have to guess?'
'Yes, sir! No, sir! I'd be glad to tell you, sir. To tell you the truth I was a bit concerned.'
'Albanus, who is it?'
Albanus told him. Ruso turned to look at the shadowy figure of his clerk. 'Are you absolutely sure?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Who else knows about this?'
'I haven't said anything to anybody else, sir.'
'Don't. Don't say anything to anyone unless…' Ruso hesitated. They were approaching the torches of the main gate now. A couple of men passed them in the dark. 'Don't say anything unless I, uh-unless I appear to have got into difficulties tonight. If that happens, go to my house tomorrow morning and go through my documents very thoroughly. Then I want you to tell the whole damn province.'
72
Let the doctor through!' roared a guard as the gates swung open and an untidy jumble of men surged in under the torchlit archway, eager to be out of the rain that was now cooling the payday fervor of the Twentieth. Ruso shouldered his way against the flow.
'Let the doctor through!' echoed a second guard, helpfully shoving the nearest man aside and dragging Ruso forward.
Once outside, he sprinted along the street, weaving in and out of groups of off-duty legionaries. Several were under escort and attempting to step smartly. A couple had abandoned their legs altogether and were being carried home by their comrades. The bars must be closing. So, this was civilized Britannia. A place where the army felt it could trust the locals enough to relax in their presence. Ruso was willing to bet that these sort of antics were not going on in the hill country.
There was a rectangle of light around Priscus's front door but no one answered his knocking. He slammed the flat of his hand three times against the wooden paneling so the whole door shook. 'Priscus! It's Ruso!'
'Oy! You!' bellowed a voice from down the street. 'Get away from that door!'
Ruso slammed his hand against the door again. 'Priscus! Open up!' He spun around to explain, 'Doctor. Medical emergency,' just as the pair of junior officers moved apart in the darkness to each grab an arm.
'Name?' demanded one of them.
He told them.
'Where's your bag of tricks?'
'I came straight here,' said Ruso, truthfully enough.
'Why aren't they letting you in, then?'
'I don't know. This is definitely the house.' He turned and hammered on the door again. 'Priscus!'
'There's someone in,' observed one of the men, bending to try and peer through the gap at the side of the door. 'There's a light. Perhaps he's too ill to get to the door.'
Ruso lifted one boot to crash it against the lock, but Priscus's house was made of stronger stuff than the linen closet. The door shuddered and held firm.
'Don't you worry, Doc,' one of the men assured him. 'We'll get you in. Ready?'
Moments later the three of them were picking themselves up from Priscus's door, which was now detached from its splintered frame and lying flat on the hall tiles.
Insisting that he didn't need a stretcher team, he dismissed his helpers and strode down the hallway to where a figure-not the one he had expected-was standing with folded arms in the doorway of Priscus's living room.
'Bassus! Where is she? What's he done with her?'
'He can't see you,' said Bassus, showing no sign of surprise at the unusual form of entry. 'He's talking to me. Put the door back on your way out.'
The veteran's silhouette filled the narrow corridor. He was a fraction shorter than Ruso but a lot heavier, and he was a professional doorman. Ruso wished he had not dismissed his eager comrades in arms. If it came to a struggle, he was not going to get in.
'The army won't let you sell her,' he said. 'He's trying to take her for the hospital fund.'
'Who?'
'Tilla. He's found Tilla. Didn't he tell you?'
From somewhere behind Bassus came a cry of 'Doctor!' Surprisingly, Priscus sounded relieved that he had arrived.
'Miserable bastard's not telling me anything,' observed Bassus.
'Yet.'
'She was picked up earlier today,' said Ruso. 'He's got her somewhere. Let me talk to him.'
