`For myself then. The plan – oh yes, there was a plan, Falco was that I pretended to be terrified of what he would do to me for speaking against him in court. I let him use the brothel, so that I knew where he was.'
`If you're claiming to be helping, why did you not call in the vigiles as soon as he arrived?'
`Here? The contemptible Sixth?'
`You could have contacted Petronius. He's straight. He told you he would buy the information if required.'
`It was not for sale.' I believed that. If Lalage chose to betray anyone, it would be for her own reasons. Reasons she felt were strong enough to put the whole contract outside mere commerce. Selling was what she did with herself. She would do something else with her enemies.
`So what has gone wrong, Lalage?'
`You mostly.' She said it with diffidence, as if sorry to be involving me. `Tibullinus told him tonight that you were outside watching Plato's. Balbinus blamed me.'
`It was nothing to do with you!'
`Does it matter?' She closed her eyes briefly. It was a shadow of her alluring glance, but almost too slight to count. I glimpsed a woman for some reason pushed beyond her normal strengths. She almost looked ill. `Anyway, Balbinus left at once. I ordered Tibullinus and Arica to get out as well – so that's us finished here.'
`Don't worry about them. Tibullinus and Arica – and the entire Sixth Cohort if needs be – will be under a judicial review for corruption in the near future.'
`I'll believe it when I see it, Falco. Better hop off quick. They're still in service, and I reckon they will be coming back with their whole cohort.'
`What about you?'
`Don't worry about me.'
I was worrying about something else. The curtain hanging above her began to pull away from its fixings. A small shower of plaster dust scattered on her hair. Instead of letting go of the material, she held on more tightly.
`Oh Jupiter, girl -'
I leapt forward with my arms open and caught Lalage against my heart.
The curtain rod collapsed. She had dragged it from the wall with her weight as she tried to support herself. I managed to buff aside the pole with my shoulder. The cloth engulfed us for a moment, then fell to the floor.
Lalage crashed forwards onto me. My knees bent as I braced myself. She suppressed a cry, then I stood there aghast, clutching her under the armpits and trying not to yell. Deep in her back was a knife blade. Once I looked over her shoulder I was seeing blood everywhere – soaking her gown, pooling the floor, staining the curtain now draped around her feet.
She was still alive. The gods know how. 'Ah, Falco. Sorry about this. Balbinus of course in case you're too shy to ask. How will you put me down?'
Well, not on your back for certain. You're the expert in fancy positions. What do you suggest?'
`Have to be on top…'
`You're enjoying the situation.'
`Always a game girl…'
`Well I realise some of your finer clients would pay a lot for this.'
I had sunk on one knee. Bringing her with me, I managed to lower her carefully. Then there was only one thing for it. I had to stretch out on the floor myself, balancing on one elbow and holding Lalage above me in my arms. That way, I could keep her weight off the knife. She laid her head against my collarbone with the small contented smile of a sleepy child. `Oh this is nice.'
`I'll get help.'
`No, stay with me, Falco.'
`I'm doing you no good. It's ridiculous.'
`Just be patient. It'll be over soon. How like a man!' `I must be tired today. Not at my best…'
She was smiling. For some hideous reason I was smiling myself.
`Ask me questions, Falco. Take the chance.' She was right. I ought to be demanding last-minute information. Not indulging in crass witticisms while she lay dying in my arms. `It doesn't matter any more.'
`Why should I die for nothing? I told you about Balbinus. Listen, who was that young officer you asked me about?' `Linus,' I forced out obediently.
`Linus. I can tell you how Balbinus found out about him being on the ship – Tibullinus and Arica.'
`They're damned for it then. Did he tell you who told them?'
`Someone in another cohort. A youngster they got friendly with.' She was fading. People always say the eyes glaze over, but Lalage's were so bright it broke my heart. `I wanted to ask you -,
She began but never finished. I thought I knew what she might have been wondering. When I pulled out the knife and turned her over gently, I touched the scar that still strikingly marred her ear. I straightened her limbs and her clothing, then partly covered her in the rich material of the curtain. Although she lay upon the floor, she looked as stately and comely as any queen in a mausoleum.
Stumbling to my feet, I crossed to her couch and sat. For a moment I stayed there remembering. Rillia Gratiana: the astonishingly pretty daughter of the snooty stationer, whose first day at school had been on the Ides of October, twenty-five years ago. A day that had been turned into a local scandal when a small boy who was frightened she was going to steal his school fees had reacted just a little too quickly and found his snarling teeth had met female flesh long before he was ready to cope with girls.
I wanted to tell her. I had been wanting to tell her ever since that day when we were seven: biting her ear had been an accident.
Well it was too late now.
LXIII
THE COMMOTION BURST out as I made my way downstairs. Things had been quiet, so much so that I even entertained the wild hope that Balbinus might still be in the brothel, convinced that by murdering Lalage he had secured his hiding place.
It had been too quiet. At some point during my long captivity with Petro, all the lads who came in with me had been rounded up and locked away. No one could believe so few of us had invaded the place, so a protracted search must have ensued. Goodness knows how many outraged males had their evening of delights interrupted by Tibullinus, Arica, or the bunch of thugs who had been secretly living there. The annoyance of these mere customers was ignored – a highly misplaced piece of arrogance.
Enraged at losing money, Plato's customers became a defiant lot. Lalage would never have denied their push-and-shove in this outrageous way. Promising them refunds only produced a sullen crowd at the door, half of them still in their undertunics as they went on hoping for entertainment. After an hour of haggling with Macra, the inevitable happened: by some process of natural democracy a leader emerged. He roused the rest, then led them back into the brothel for a tiff.
Their first action was to find Sergius and the lads, and set them free. Sergius explained the position, and naturally made it plain (with a wink) that his duty to the public compelled him to advise the disappointed customers to run for home. As I may have remarked, Sergius was a big, handsome fellow whose main talent was thrashing folk. He only had to be thinking about this to give others the idea. A wink from Sergius was enough to turn Plato's normally furtive customers into marauding Gauls.
When I came down a fierce battle had broken out spontaneously all over two floors of the brothel. If I wanted to get through to the outer door there was nothing for it but to join in.
I wound my belt round one hand with the buckle end free, and grabbed a torch in the other fist. Flailing viciously, I drove a path down the remaining stairs through people grappling untidily. It was unclear who was what. I ran the gauntlet of a corridor full of half-clothed screaming women, then met a faceful of what I hoped was washing water from a crazy man who was giggling repeatedly in a high-pitched monotone.
The main action surged within the large, refectory-like room. It was a sea of madly working limbs and tousled
