I left him to staunch a workman's blood-dripping finger. I noticed that he carried out the task with calmness - just as he faced everything, including me jumping about looking for scandals.
Now that I had talked to him, I thought I understood him. He was a man in his middle twenties, with drab colouring and a dull personality, who had found a niche as a specialist. He was happy. He seemed to know that in rougher areas of life he would have ended up a nobody. Some lucky chance had brought him to work at the routine end of medicine. He dispensed herbal remedies, staunched blood on straightforward wounds. Decided when a surgeon ought to be sent for. Listened to depressives with a helpful manner. Perhaps once in his career he would encounter a real maniac who needed tying down in a hurry. Perhaps his ignorance killed off a few patients, but that's true of more doctors than doctors will admit. On the whole, society was the better for his existence and that knowledge pleased him.
I suppose it pleased me to think that Alexas would regard it as a matter of professional competence to report any irregularity. I would find no clues otherwise. I would have to rely on Alexas for information on the past 'accidents'.
But the situation was covered now: I was here. That should reassure anyone who had the misfortune to be done in in murky circumstances!
When I left the medical post, somebody was hanging about outside in a way that made me look twice at him. I felt he was intending to quiz Alexas about me. When I stared straight at him he changed his mind. 'You're Falco.'
'Can I help you?'
'Lupus.'
Broad-browed and squat-bodied, with a tan that said he had lived out of doors in all weathers for maybe forty years, he seemed familiar. 'And your position is?'
'Labour supervisor.'
'Right!' He had been at the project meeting; Cyprianus pointed him out to me. 'Local or foreign workers?'
Lupus looked surprised that I knew there were two. I just waited. He muttered, 'I do the overseas.'
There were benches outside the bandage house for queuing patients. I sat down and encouraged Lupus to do likewise. 'And where are you from yourself?'
'Arsinoe.' It sounded like a hole at the back of a gully in the desert.
'Where's that?'
'Egypt!' he said proudly. Reading my mind, the loyal sand flea added, 'Yes, yes; it's the place they call Crocodilopolis.'
I took out my note-tablet and a stylus. 'I need to talk to you. Was Valla one of your men? Gaudius? Or the man who died in the knife fight at the canabae?'
'Valla, Dubnus and Eporix were mine.'
'Eporix?'
'A roof feature fell on him.' The heavy fmial Alexas showed me.
'And tell me about the knife victim? That was Dubnus, wasn't it?'
'Big Gaul. A complete ass. How he managed not to get himself slaughtered twenty years before this, I'll never know.'
Lupus spoke matter-of-factly. I could accept that half his workforce were mad hats Almost certainly they came from poor backgrounds. They led a gruelling life with few rewards. 'Give me the picture.' I left off the stylus to look informal.
'What do you want?'
'Background. How things work. What are the good and bad aspects? Where does your labour hail from? Are they happy? How do you feel yourself?'
'They come from Italy mostly. Along the way a few Gauls are recruited. Spaniards. Eporix was one of my Hispanians. The tine trades get workers from the east or central Europe; they pick up on the orders for materials in the marble yards or wherever, and follow the carts looking for high wages or adventure.'
'Are the wages good?'
Lupus guffawed. 'This is an imperial project, Falco. The men just think they will get special rates.'
'Do you have trouble attracting labour?'
'It's a prestigious contract.'
'One which will embarrass people in high places if it goes wrong!' I grinned. After a moment, Lupus grinned back. Dry lips parted slowly and reluctantly; he was a cautious partaker of mirth. Or just cautious. He was at least talking to me, but I did not fool myself. I could not expect his trust.
'Yes, it's rather public.' Lupus grimaced. 'Otherwise, it may be bloody big, but it's just domestic, isn't it?'
'Major engineering is more complex?'
'The governor's palace in Londinium has more clout. I wouldn't say no to a transfer there.'
'Any snobbery because the client is a Briton?'
'I don't care who he is. And I don't let the men complain.'
Most of his front teeth were missing. I wondered how many barroom fights accounted for his losses. He was of burly build. He looked capable of handling himself, and of splitting up any troublemakers.
'So you have a whole crowd of migrant workers scores, or hundreds even?' I asked, recalling him to the subject. Lupus nodded, confirming the larger number. 'What sort of life is there for the men? They get basic accommodation?'
'Temporary hutments close to the site.'
'No privacy, no room to breathe
'Worse than house slaves at some luxury villas- but better than slaves in the mines,' Lupus shrugged.
'Yours is tree labour?'
'Mixture. But I hate slaves,' he said. 'A big site's too open. Too many transports leaving. I don't have time to stop the merry hordes running off.'
'So your men get adequate rations, washing facilities and a roof.'
'If the weather holds, our fellows are out of doors all day. We want them fit and full of energy.'
'Like the army.'
'The same, Falco.'
'So how is discipline?'
'Not too bad.'
'But the high value of materials on site leads to diddling?'
'We keep the risky stuff locked away in decent stores.'
'I've seen the depot with the new fence.'
'Yes, well. You wouldn't think there was anywhere around here to sell the stuff, or any means of moving it away but some bugger will always manage. I arrange the best watchmen I can, and we've brought in dogs to help them. Then we just hope.'
'Hmm.' That was an area I had to pursue later. 'And how is life out here? The men have leisure time?'
He groaned. 'They do.'
'Tell me.'
'That's where my troubles really start. They are bored. They are thinking they will get large bonuses- and half of them spend the money before we even dole it out. They have access to beer there's too much, and some are not used to it. They rape the native women or so the women's fathers claim when they come haranguing me- and they beat up the native men.'
'That's the fathers, husbands, lovers and brothers of their attractive lady friends?'
'For starters. Or on the right night, my lads will take on anyone else who has a long haircut, a strong accent, or funny trousers and a red moustache.' Lupus almost sounded proud of their spirit. 'If they can't find a Briton to abuse, they just beat up each other instead. The Italians gang up on the Gauls. When that palls, for variety the Italians tear into each other and the Gauls do the same. That's less tricky to deal with in some ways than distraught civilian Britons hoping for a compensation payout, though it leaves me short-handed. Pomponius gives me all Hades if too many on the complement are laid up with cracked heads. But, Falco -' Lupus stretched towards me earnestly 'this is just life on a building site abroad. It is happening all over the Empire.'
'And you are saying it means nothing?'
