out, and he was found dead.'
'An accident,' I repeated.
'Nobody else had been there. As for Quinctius Quadratus, he was here; we all know it. Without question he is unable to ride. He could never have got to the Rufius estate. Besides, why would he harm his young friend?'
I shook my head, unable to suggest an answer. Then I did say, 'I saw Rufius Constans before I left. He and his grandfather were at the proconsul's palace, trying to gain an interview.'
Helena looked at me. 'Intriguing! But you cannot ask Licinius Rufius what they were doing there. He and his wife will be heartbroken over their loss. So much was invested in Constans.'
'And so much wasted,' I agreed, in my most republican mood.
'They had probably gone to ask the proconsul for support in advancing the young man's career!'
That was not how it had looked to me. The old man had been too urgent in his manner, and the boy too sullen-faced.
Because of the cramped layout of the bathhouse, we had to return through the warm room to reach what passed for a cold plunge. It was in a kind of cupboard to one side, built off the cold room with the cloak-hooks. Even before we pulled back the curtain which concealed the pool, I had an inkling of something suspicious. Then Helena Justina exploded. 'Oh really! I don't believe this thoughtlessness!'
I did. Somebody had bathed in the small pool so vigorously they had swooshed almost all of the water out onto the floor. Before I squashed down on the sitting ledge and splashed myself as best I could to cool down in the remnants, I glanced back into the outer room. There were wet footprints everywhere, and the blue tunic I threw on the bench had now disappeared. Whoever had used the cold water must have been lurking in the pool when Helena and I first entered. Whoever it was could have overhead all we said. Luckily the thick doors to the warm rooms would prevent sound emerging once we had passed through them.
Frankly, if it had been Quadratus eavesdropping, I found it hard to care.
I was pretty well incapable of movement now. When I struggled from the pool, dripping sporadically, Helena had to find a towel and dry me down herself.
'So are you going to tell me your own adventures, Marcus?'
'Oh mine are just horses, wine, men's talk, and women in their boudoirs getting undressed.' Helena raised her eyebrows and I thought it best to produce a rapid, lightly censored version of my time in Hispalis. She was not best pleased with the part about Selia, I could tell. Being an informer had taught me to recognize growling and grinding of teeth.
'Bad news, Falco.'
'I won't have that! I protest I'm innocent.'
'I think you made up the whole story.' She had guessed that I had pruned it. 'What a puzzle your dancer is! Is she the killer? Is she seeking the killer for Laeta? Will her ravishing figure distract you from your family loyalties? Will she beat you up again? Or will she just beat you at your own game?'
I tried not to wince as Helena moved to buff up certain lower regions that preferred softer treatment. 'Spare me the exotic massage… A procurator called Placidus had a dagger gash that proves what she wanted. Selia was not after my body, unless it was dead. I beat up her guards and captured them; they will stand trial before the proconsul on the basis of a report I've left with the vigiles about that night in Rome. I was supposed to stay- material witness-but I waved my pass from Laeta and pleaded urgent secret work.'
'Dry your own feet please,' said Helena. 'I'm too large to reach-'
'You're adorable. Better than a Syrian bodyslave-'
'When have you been cosseted by a bodyslave?'
'They fling themselves on me all the time. Beautiful girls with terrific hands, and slinky boys with very long eyelashes…' Helena's chin came up. 'There's one more thing I haven't told you yet. The cook told me that while I was resting one day a woman came here looking for you.'
'Selia?' Was she pursuing me?
'It can't be,' Helena informed me coolly, drying her own hair. 'This one was here three days ago, Falco-when according to you, you were pinning the unclad Selia to a cosmetics table in Hispalis. I had not realized you were so sought after.'
'Oh gods! You know what this means: I'm not just being beaten up by one female agent-Anacrites' special charmer wants her turn as well!'
I was so depressed that Helena relented. She kissed me, fairly gently. Then she took me by the hand again, and led me away on stumbling feet to bed.
FIFTY-FOUR
Grief-stricken women seem to make beelines for informers. It must be our comforting manner.
'You have to help me!' wailed Claudia Rufina.
I was very tired. Normally I could mop tears, straighten a mourning veil, and stop hiccups by giving a sudden shock by way of loud noises, cold keys down the cleavage, or an unexpected pinch on the backside. Today I just sighed.
'Of course he will!' Helena soothed the distressed young lady. 'Marcus Didius is deeply sorry about what happened to Constans; he will help you if he can.'
I had been left to sleep in, but still felt like a half-stuffed cushion. After days in the saddle my spine, and all the parts attached to it, were on fire. I needed to be placed in the tender care of my trainer Glaucus and his fiendish masseur from Tarsus, but they were many hundreds of miles away in Rome, and a great deal of the distance between us was sea.
Worse, when I had crawled into the kitchen this morning the breakfast which the aged cook had lovingly prepared for me had been devoured by Quadratus. Of course the old dear rushed to bring me another plateful, but it was not the same. So let's be literal about this: my mood was absolutely foul.
I held up a hand like a masterful orator. Claudia Rufina fell silent, though Helena sniffed; she hated sham.
'Helena Justina is correct about the deep sympathy I feel towards you and your family. Nothing can mitigate the untimely death of a promising youth with the Empire at his feet.' And so much money, I thought. I was extremely tired. My mood was truly low.
'Thank you,' said Claudia, catching me out by responding with dignity.
'You are a sensible young woman and I believe you will respect frankness.' I was not normally this rough. I noticed Helenas eyebrows shoot up. Guilt increased my bad temper. 'Excuse me if this sounds harsh: I came to Hispania on a difficult mission. I received no assistance-no assistance at all-from the dignitaries of Corduba, including your own family. I have still to solve a murder in Rome, and write a long report on certain commercial matters here. I have to condense my efforts into far too little time, in order to be able to return to Italy before Helena Justina gives birth.' We all glanced at Helena; by now she looked so large it seemed likely we were expecting twins. 'Claudia Rufina, this is no moment for me to take on a private commission, especially when it's fairly clear we're discussing a very sad accident.'
'Besides which,' muttered Helena, 'Marcus has had his breakfast eaten by that young man of whom everyone thinks so highly.'
'Tiberius?' Claudia was looking down that unfortunate nose of hers. She still seemed drawn to the handsome and eligible quaestor-yet her expression had a closed look, as if her attitude might be changing.
'Yes, Tiberius!' Helena's smile was like the benign glance of a sibyl just before she prophesied universal war.
'Oh,' said Claudia. Then she added in her serious way, 'I came in Grandfather's carriage. Would you like me to take Tiberius away?'
'That would be extremely kind,' Helena answered. 'You see, I am being frank too today.'
