Marilyn Todd - Second Act

Besides, his face looked kind of familiar…

‘Where’s Balven, you little shit?’

‘Out.’

‘Yeah?’ The giant shook the tavern keeper like a doll. ‘Where?’

‘I d-don’t know. He doesn’t t-tell me where he goes.’

The giant dropped his charge.

‘Well, tell him when he comes back, he owes me money.’ He pulled a shining scimitar out of its sheath and held it against the tavern keeper’s throat. ‘And you can remind him what happens when Lulu doesn’t get paid.’

Lulu! The gladiator with the string of pretty rent boys who runs the bawdy house off Tuscan Street!

‘You c-can rely on me,’ the tavern keeper croaked. ‘G-gods’ honour.’

‘Good.’ Lulu sheathed his scimitar. ‘Oh, yeah. One other thing.’

He drew out a floaty female undergarment from inside his jerkin.

‘Remind the scatterbrained berk not to leave his knickers behind next time.’

*

‘Leonides.’

Claudia thought she’d wear out the mosaic in her office from pacing.

‘Leonides, when Orbilio comes back, give him this.’

She’d toyed with the idea of summarizing on parchment her visits to the three victims who had been able to irrefutably identify the rapist. Precis the main points as to why she’d come to the conclusion she had, and the evidence she had to support it. In the end, she wrote just one word on the wax tablet. The bastard’s name.

‘Immediately,’ she added.

‘I understand, madam.’

Leonides would not let her down. Never had. But to be on the safe side, she’d left another note in Orbilio’s room and sent a messenger to his house. There was nothing more she could do, and she had gnawed her fingernails to her elbows wondering where he could have got to. Suppose he’d arrested another false suspect? It would destroy him. What if Deva, or one of the other victims, had been pushed over the edge by further interrogation? That would destroy him, as well.

Marcus, Marcus, where the devil are you? Why don’t you come home?

Home?

The word brought a pain to her stomach. This wasn’t his home. Never would be. He might have made himself at home here, but that would be part of the softening process, using the rapist as a pretext for another case, two birds with one criminal stone. Originally, he’d used her as bait to hook Butico, but with his star witness mysteriously missing, a fraud was a fraud was a fraud. Never underestimate the power of results when a man wants a seat in the Senate. Seeing Cupid’s arrows hit all the wrong targets had done nothing to make her feel better.

‘Are you wise to go out this late, madam?’ Leonides asked mildly, even though he knew he was wasting his breath. Wisdom and Claudia were not soulmates. But as he raised his hand to summon his mistress’s bodyguard, Claudia stopped him.

‘They stay where they are,’ she insisted. ‘Inside, guarding the exits.’

The colour drained from her steward’s face. ‘You can’t go out alone.’

‘Silly me, Leonides. I thought I was the one who decided who could and who couldn’t do what in this house. Hand me my wrap.’ She waited. And waited a little bit longer. ‘Leonides,’ she warned.

Besides. She wouldn’t be alone. Unless she missed her guess, a couple of large muscular types would prise themselves away from the walls where they were pretending to blend in with their surroundings and would follow. That was one good thing about the Security Police, she reflected, pulling her furs tight round her chin. You can always rely on one or the other of them to be on your tail.

‘Mind if I walk part of the way with you?’ Erinna asked. ‘Only since we’re performing on Saturnalia Eve, I’d like to soak up at least some of the festive atmosphere.’

Claudia was glad of the company. She had no particular destination in mind. Just felt caged indoors, waiting for footsteps that didn’t come, knowing that merely a few hours stood between now and daybreak, and-if her conclusions were wrong-another young woman’s life ruined. Beside her, Erinna said nothing and Claudia wasn’t surprised. Performances like that were utterly draining.

Sure enough, as they left, two strapping ex-army veterans down the street exchanged glances and casually ambled their way down the hill behind the two women, pausing, as they paused, to watch pantalooned fire-eaters perform on the corner. Stopping, as they stopped, while Persian acrobats tumbled and twisted their way down the thoroughfare, skirting riders on horseback and hoarse-throated beggars with ease.

Claudia noted her followers and relaxed. Good old Marcus.

The closer they drew to the Forum, the more incense wafted from open-air shrines. Young blades in their finery swaggered to catch the eyes of promenading maidens with chaplets woven into their hair, a bear danced to the tune from a lyre, cats wailed from the rooftops. On the steps of the Temple of the Divine Julius, conjurors produced rabbits out of felt hats to a shower of coins, and outside the basilica a black man juggled terracotta plates as he danced.

‘That was fun,’ Erinna said, as they eventually turned to make their way home. It was approaching midnight, and she had freed her long m a ne of chestnut hair from its bun to hang down her back, shining like a stallion in the light of the torches which burned from sconces set in the walls.

‘Why don’t you tell Skyles you love him?’ Claudia asked.

Erinna stopped short. ‘Me? Skyles? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this year,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve not even been alone with him. ’

‘Yes,’ Claudia said. ‘That’s what puzzles me.’

Down Pomegranate Lane, the road that led home, a covered dray cart was blocking the street. Shouts of the drivers jammed up behind drowned any chance to talk further and Claudia and Erinna slipped down the parallel lane, Pepper Alley. Neither noticed that, as their protectors turned into the lane behind them, two cudgels landed blows from a doorway.

The driver of the dray cart geed up his mules. It turned out of Pomegranate Lane and stopped again at the end of Pepper Alley.

Claudia glanced over her shoulder. Strangely, this passageway was completely deserted, and it was oddly reassuring for once that Orbilio’s two Security Policemen were behind.

‘Erinna,’ she began.

Two hulking figures stepped out of the shadows.

‘Quick,’ she said, spinning Erinna round. ‘It’s a trap. Run!’ Together, they hurtled down the alleyway. Behind them, the two men also broke into a run. ‘Help,’ she called out to Orbilio’s men. ‘Help!’ But the men had stopped, blocking the alley, and now she drew closer, she saw that they were shorter, and uglier, and not the same pair. Two mounds on the cobbles told the story. She turned again, but the first two were closing in fast.

Before either girl had a chance to scream, sacks were flung over their heads.

The driver of the dray cart flipped up the oilskin covering the wagon. Four men and two squirming bundles were hustled inside, the cover quickly flipped closed. The cart moved off at a cracking pace, and the Saturnalia revellers interpreted the shrieks inside as the squeals of lovers having fun, because this was the season of peace and goodwill, and no one’s minds were on evil.

*

Orbilio opened his eyes, and found himself in a room that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He closed them again, conscious of a throbbing in his head and a terrible ache in his side. Where was he? He remembered walking down his own street when Angelina confronted hi m. Recalled only too well the knife in her hand. After that, though, he must have passed out. He forced his eyelids apart, and realized that what he was seeing were his own walls and ceiling, but from a totally different angle. He was lying in the guest room where he’d left Deva, and it was at the back of his mind that it was a good place to recover. She’d want for nothing in this house and also, he decided, his taste in decor was better than he’d given himself credit for.