'I just won a fortune-but my niece has eaten it.'

Glaucus my trainer was a sensible man. 'Then put the child on a chamberpot-and wait!'

We had a discussion about whether bone dissolves in stomach acids, but I won't bother you with that.

He got me clean, and promised I would keep upright if I went steadily. Then I hired a chair myself, as far as the Capena Gate. I sat, dreaming of the new apartment I could now afford if any of the betting tokens were retrieved from Marcia…

Nothing is ever easy. As I paid off the bearers at the end of the Senator's street, I noticed a group loafing outside a cookshop: Anacrites' men. They had worked out that sooner or later I would try to see Helena. If I approached the house, my convalescence would be in a prison cell.

Luckily I was no slouch as a lover: I knew where to find the Senator's back gate.

When I crept in like a marble-thief, Camillus Verus himself was standing with his arms folded, staring at the carp in his gloomy pond.

I coughed. 'Nice evening!'

'Hello, Falco.'

I joined him making faces at the fish. 'I ought to warn you, sir, when I leave here I am liable to be arrested in the street.'

'Give the neighbours something to talk about.' The tunic Glaucus had lent me only had one sleeve; Camillus twitched an eyebrow at my bandaging.

'Pertinax is dead.'

'Tell me?'

'Some time. Before I can remember, I shall have to forget.'

He nodded. A carp shoved his snout up to the surface but we had nothing to give him so we just stared back guiltily.

'Helena has been asking for you,' her father said.

He took me indoors, as far as the atrium. The statue I had sent him from the Pertinax house now had pride of place. He thanked me as we both gazed at her, with a peacefulness that would have been unlikely if we had been surveying the real thing.

'I still wonder,' mused Camillus, 'if I should have ordered marble-'

'Bronze is best,' I said. I smiled at him, so he would know it was intended as a compliment to his daughter: 'More warmth!'

'Go and see her,' he urged. 'She won't talk, and she won't weep. See what you can do…'-

Her mother and a gaggle of maids were crowding the bedroom. So was a man who must be the doctor. My roses were by Helena's bed, my signet was on her thumb. She was busy ignoring good advice with a set, stubborn face.

I leaned in the doorway like a professional, looking mean and hard. She saw me at once. Helena had a strong face, which took its softness from whatever she was feeling. Whenever that sweet face lit with relief, simply at seeing me walk into a room alive, the mean, hard look became difficult to sustain.

I went on helping the doorframe to keep itself upright, trying to find the sort of tasteless ribaldry she would expect. She spotted the bandages.

'Trust you,' she said, 'to turn up looking bloodstained when there's someone else's doctor to give you a free salve!'

I shook my head slightly, to say I was just scratched. And her eyes answered that whatever I had done to her, she was glad I was here.

Most of my work has to be done alone, but it would be good to know that when a job was over, I could come home to someone who would scoff at me heartily if I showed any tendency to boast. Someone who would actually miss me if I failed to make it home.

Remaining in the room while a lady was examined was obviously indelicate. Luckily the doctor was leaving. I blocked his path.

'The name is Didius Falco. I live off the Via Ostiana, above the Eagle Laundry in Fountain Court.' He looked puzzled. I said, 'Send your bill for professional services to me.'

Within the room, the women of the house fell suddenly still. They all looked at Helena. Helena was looking steadily at me.

The doctor was Egyptian in origin. He had a square head, with eyebrows that met in the centre above a straight, strong nose. He looked distinctive, but was very slow. 'I understood that the Senator-'

'The Senator,' I explained with forbearance, 'is the father of this lady. He gave her life, nourishment, education, and the good humour that smiles in her honey-brown eyes. But on this occasion, I will pay your bill.'

'But why-'

'Think about it,' I said gently.

I took him by the elbow and propelled him from the room.

Think about it. No, don't think. The child was yours. Ours. Think, Marcus. Think about that.

I held open the door. Amidst a flutter of female consternation, Julia Justa somehow drained the room of its irrelevant occupants. I was aware of hurried movement behind me; then the door closed.

Silence. Helena Justina, all eyes. Helena and me.

'Marcus… I was not sure if you would come again.'

I tipped my chin, in a travesty of my debonair normal self. 'I told you, fruit, just stay where I can find you, and I'll always come back… Just promise me,' I said quietly. 'Promise me, Helena, that the next time you will tell me.'

In this silence now were all the world's pain and grief. Helena's eyes were finally filling with her unshed tears.

'I was working,' I went on carefully. 'I had a lot of things to think about. But I want it understood, Helena-if I had known you needed me, I would have dropped everything-'

'I know!' she said. 'I knew that. Of course.'

That was it then. Really I had known the reason all along.

Вы читаете SHADOWS IN BRONZE
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