I swore under my breath. `Was Damon alone?' `Had a woman with him.'
`Smart girl in a white dress, rather big nose?'
`No. Filthy piece in a red skirt, showing her legs.' He could have switched later. Girls who show their legs can often sense trouble. Red skirt might have ditched him. Claudia would have appeared a much easier target – but Damon could still be with the red skirt, while somebody else had Claudia. If so, we had no idea who.
`Find where they got to. Find Petro. Tell him no; first get a message to your commander: a respectable girl has been abducted this evening while we all stood around like bloody wall paintings. Whoever took her has transport. In case he hasn't left the city yet, we need every vehicle that's on the road tonight searched and we need to start now. Concentrate in the eastern districts; he will be heading for Tibur.'
The stand-in watcher looked worried: `There won't be much, moving; most vehicles have been and gone.'
`Oh, I know that!'
I grabbed Aelianus. He was white-faced, his straight hair flopping anyhow, his heart about to burst.
`Aulus, I'll do all I can. If she's still alive, I'll get her back for you. But I can't promise anything, so prepare yourself.'
He took it well. `What shall I do?'
I scrutinised him briefly. He had controlled his panic. He was one of a bright family. I didn't like him, but I could trust his tenacity. `I need an arrest warrant, but we don't yet know a name. Do your best for me. The man who arranged everything is the ex-Consul Frontinus; he knows your father. The magistrate who has to issue the document is called Marponius.' Quickly I gave him addresses for both. 'They don't look like stop-outs, so you ought to be able to find them. Get Marponius to issue the chit for 'the abductor of Claudia Rufina'. That should be specific enough. Rush it to the Praetorian Camp. The Urban Cohorts can then ride after this villain if he has left Rome.'`
`What: about you, Falco?'
`I'll go straight to the camp now and, try to persuade them to mount up. If I can't shift them without the warrant, I'll go ahead alone.'
`I'll come with you -'
`No! I need you to organise some back-up for me, Aulus!' I could not take him, knowing what I might eventually find. For a lad of twenty-three to lose his future wife like this would be terrible enough. He must be spared seeing what was done to her. `The warrant is vital. Then you can, do something else for me: Helena will be expecting me home. She'll grow frantic if I don't arrive. Please go and tell her what's happening.' Helena would understand that he must not be allowed to follow me.
He was her brother so he could take another message too; `Give her my love – and if you really, want to be a hero, force yourself to kiss my child for me.'
Well, that should keep reluctant young Uncle Aulus occupied.
FIFTY NINE
Everything was still against me.
As I set off, all the battered wine wagons and marble carts in Rome were struggling to leave the city before dawn. After the Games ended the private hire transport had taken off the audience and then dispersed. I had to walk. From the Circus to the Praetorian Camp is a damned long way.
By the Gardens of Maecenas I shoved a drunk off a donkey, commandeering it for the Empire. The drunk didn't care. He was out of it. The donkey put up a fight, but I was in a hard mood. I kicked him into action and cajoled him the rest of the way to the Porta Tiburtina with a stick I found; there I fell off just as the vigiles were preparing to disperse.
`Hold it! Urgent have any private vehicles left this way tonight?'
'Oh, shit, Falco. It's been a heavy night; there's been hundreds.'
`Got the list?'
`We thought we were finished; we've already, sent it off to the Prefect.'
`Help me out, lads – a big four-horse; carriage, or a sit-upand-beg?'
`Could well have been, but don't ask us!'
`Jupiter – you're a disgrace to public office! Is this why I paid my census tax?'
`Give over – who coughs up the tax?'
`Not enough people to pay for an efficient watch, apparently. Stop here. Don't argue – the creep has snatched a young girl who was to marry a senator. We've got to find her. Search everything that comes this way and try to get word to the other city gates
I hauled my stolen donkey back into service. We went under the arcade of the Anio Vetus, then rode parallel to the huge triple mass of the Aqua Marcia, carrying both the Tepula and the Julia above it. Unplanned originally, the newer channels were not even centred; the arches had had to be reinforced, but even so the top cover of the Marcia was cracking due to the uneven distribution of weight. Thanks: to Bolanus, I knew these details intimately. I also knew what might be floating down in their waters soon.
I forced the donkey to the Praetorian Camp. As always it was a bad experience. The camp itself is a monstrous spread in the shadow of the Servian Walls, mirrored by an even more gigantic parade ground that takes up most of the space between the Viminal and Colline gates; the troops inside are bastards to a man.
It was fairly quiet for once. So quiet I had the odd experience of hearing the beasts roaring in the Imperial menagerie just outside the city. From a clubroom nearby my ears were assailed by the distinctive -noise of Guardsmen finishing off their routine fifteen flagons a night. The set of bullies on the gate must have been halfway there too, but they carried it well. The wine made them slow to respond to an emergency, but infused them with a certain wild flair once they got the hang of things. A kind soul patted my donkey, who responded by biting him. The burly Guardsman was so tough – or so tipsy – he never felt a thing.
The centurion of the Urbans who had been instructed to stay on alert to help us was a neat, mild soul who had turned in for an early night. Nice to think of the hard-baked and notorious city guardians having a quiet read in their tidy bunks then blowing out their lamps while the city rampaged, untroubled by their attentions. After an agonising- wait, he
turned up in a long Greek nightshirt just to tell me that without a judge's warrant he was going back to bed. I advised him to check how much pension he had collected in the regimental savings bank, because for exile in further Armenia it might not be enough. He sniffed, and left.
In despair, I heard myself pouring out my troubles to the Praetorian duty watch. These big lads in shiny breastplates were a soft touch for a heartbreaking tale. Ever keen to put one over on the Urbans, whom they regarded as inferior barrack companions, they led me to the prepared horses, and wittily suggested that they should look the other way while I snuck, off with one. I thanked them, pointed out that the horses were in fact mules, then chose the best.
First light was blossoming above the Seven Hills as I spent half an hour kick-starting my stubborn mount, then galloped out of Rome on the Via Tiburtina, chasing after a killer, who might not even have come this way.
SIXTY
It was twenty miles, and probably more than that, from Rome to Tibur. As I rode out in the cold, grey early morning there was ample time for thinking. Most of my thoughts were bad. The easiest to bear was that I had totally misjudged events, and was making a pointless journey. Claudia would turn up; she might be safely at home already. If she had actually been abducted, Petronius Longus or somebody else might have seen it and arrested the man; while I was looking for Petro on the streets he could have been sequestered in some patrol house, applying hooks to the killer's anatomy:- Or the vehicle searches that I had ordered might discover the girl before she came to harm. Her abductor might be arrested at the city gates. My last hope was that even if she was now
