“I knew you would not mind. It is not going well between them, but I think they are both even more unhappy apart than they are together.”
He said, “You were out looking at a house with Gallonius’s wife?”
“Just around the corner. With a garden. We could have hens.” She wrinkled her nose. “But not a cockerel.”
He ran a hand through his hair and made it stick up. “I came here to do a job for Firmus.”
“And you have,” she said. “Never mind if the speech was no good. If you are doctor to the mansio you will not have to make any more speeches.”
“Is that what you want? To live in a place like this with these people?”
She had chosen the wrong time to tell him: She could see that now. He was tired and bad tempered. “It is not home,” she agreed. “And it is the Catuvellauni. But we have to go somewhere.”
“The magistrates say they’re going to deal with Dias,” he said, not sounding as though he believed it.
“Dias cannot be trusted,” she agreed. “But Camma will curse him and perhaps the gods will bring justice.”
“I think he flattered one of the housemaids into lending him the key to our room. No wonder he wanted to question them all in private. And I’m sure he was Valens’s burglar. There’s nothing wrong with his back that I can see. If I had longer I’d-”
“But you are not an investigator now! It is finished. Let the Council deal with it. You are a Medicus.”
“I know it was him. And Rogatus over at the stables was helping him.”
She was not going to argue about that now. “When you are feeling better, you need to go to the baths,” she said, smoothing his hair down. “Serena’s cousin wants us all to have dinner together and I said they could use our dining room.”
Sometimes there was no pleasing him. A few moments ago he had been worried about her. Now it seemed he could not even bring himself to speak to her. When the servant arrived with the wine, he seized on it like a drowning man grasping for a rope.
68
Albanus had devised himself a program of searching for Tilla for an hour and then returning to the mansio to see if there was news. He was lurching up the steps to make his second check when he met Ruso and the object of his quest leaving him a message in the reception area.
Tilla’s, “There you are! You look even worse than the Medicus!” did not go down well.
“What my wife means,” explained Ruso, “is that she’s sorry everyone’s been put to all this trouble because she failed to tell anyone that the guards who took her away from here were in fact taking her for a pleasant tour of the town.”
Albanus blinked. “But sir, I thought-”
“I know,” said Ruso. “I’m on the way to try and explain to Camma.”
Tilla said, “Explain what?”
Albanus shook his head. “I’ve just come from there, sir. She isn’t at home. Grata can’t find her.” He paused. “So now do you want me to look for her instead?”
Ruso looked him up and down. “I think you’ve done enough running around today,” he said. “Go and take yourself off to the baths for a cleanup. Apparently we’re all dining here tonight. I’ll see if I can find her.”
Tilla said, “Did she take the baby with her?”
“No.” Albanus covered a yawn with one hand. “Grata is coping on her own.”
“Then she cannot be far.”
There was no sign of Camma in any of the shops around the Forum, and the women Tilla approached on the way out of the Great Hall had not seen her. Ruso left her to ask around while he went to the guards’ office. A man he did not recognize looked up from the desk and said, “Did you find your wife, sir?”
“Yes, thank you.” He wondered how many of the guards knew what had been going on this afternoon. Doubtless all of them would have heard that he had attacked Dias in front of everyone in the Hall. “I’m looking for somebody else now. A different woman.”
The man grinned. “Really, sir?”
Ruso put his hands on the desk and leaned across. The man’s breath smelled of onions. “Really.”
The grin faded. The man promised to put out a Missing Person Report immediately.
A Missing Person Report. They even had a name for it. Whatever else Dias was, he was a good organizer.
“Now where do we look?” asked Tilla, rejoining him in the middle of the Forum just as a rich voice bellowed, “Investigator!” He spun around to see Gallonius emerge from the Council chamber and head toward them with his arms spread wide as if he was trying to stop them escaping.
“Investigator,” he repeated, clapping Ruso on the arm, “good to see you. I think it went rather well at the meeting, don’t you?”
Ruso said, “Were you behind that game with my wife, or was it Dias’s idea?”
“You mean our little offer of thanks, Investigator?” Gallonius gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Or should I call you Doctor?”
“Someone deliberately arranged it to look as though she was being arrested.”
The smile faded. “Why didn’t you say something? Did anyone tell you that your wife was being threatened?”
“Not exactly, but-”
“I think you’ve been jumping to conclusions again.” He looked from one to the other of them. “I’m sorry if you felt misled, but I hear the lady approves of the house and we have to keep the ladies happy, don’t we? She’s welcome to stay here while you go down to report to the procurator. That reminds me. If you would kindly explain to him that the forgers are dead, he’s welcome to send as many men as he likes to witness the destruction of the false coins.”
Tilla began to say, “But they aren’t-”
“Obviously,” said Ruso, talking over her, “you won’t be asking him to write off the tax.”
“No, no. We’ll find the money from other funds and send it down in a day or two. It will be a shame for the orphans, of course. Most of the maintenance work will have to wait and it will be disappointing not to have the theater under way by the time the emperor gets here, but don’t worry. We will pay our dues.”
“Never mind about the orphans and the emperor,” put in Tilla, who perhaps now understood the real reason for her escorted trip around town. “Where is Camma?”
Gallonius scratched his head. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he said, “I have no idea where your friend is. There’s no reason why I should know, is there?”
Ruso sighed. “No,” he said. “There isn’t. You don’t even need to shut her up now, do you?”
Tilla watched the magistrate walk away toward the Great Hall with his trail of slaves. “That man,” she said, “is a liar.”
“He’s a survivor,” said Ruso. “We’ll try the house. Perhaps she’s come home.”
They could tell before the door was open that Camma was not at home. Her son’s screeching complaints almost drowned out Grata’s shout of, “If you’ve come wanting money, piss off!”
“It is me!” called Tilla. “Let us in!”
Grata wrenched open the door and thrust the baby into Tilla’s arms. “You try,” she said, handing her the feeding pot with the spout. “These things are useless.” She dabbed at the wet patches on her tunic with a cloth. “I’m not paid to do this, you know.”
As she turned to lead them through the house, Ruso saw that the skin over her left cheekbone was flushed and swollen, as if someone had struck it.
The kitchen air was thick with the smell of stew and soiled baby cloths. Tilla seated herself by the fire. Preoccupied with trying to calm the infant, she did not seem to have noticed the bruising on Grata’s cheek.
Ruso said, “How long has she been gone?”
