Lindsey Davis - The Jupiter Myth

In another situation I would have been fascinated with these far-flung travellers – especially the fellow from Palmyra, where it so happened I had been. But neither appeared to be 'preying' on this province in the way Silvanus had complained about. They had found avenues to explore, but that was to their credit. They posed no threat. They would be earning a living, providing sought-after goods, and offering the local people welcome opportunities.

The fact was, my questions would not be answered here. These were the wrong kind of men – far too legitimate. As usual, it was my task to delve among the dirtier layers of humanity. I would not find my culprits cosying up to the governor. Racketeers never register their presence openly.

I could be wasting my time anyway. However bad the scene shaping up behind the Londinium waterfront, it might be irrelevant to the Verovolcus killing. I did not even know that Verovolcus had run up against any extortionists. It was just a hunch.

Aelia Camilla was leaving the party. To her husband, she merely signalled her intention to withdraw. She and Gaius were traditionalists; they shared a bedroom, without doubt. Later, they would exchange opinions of tonight's party, discussing their guests. They would probably note my late arrival and speculate where I had been all day.

On me, now a nephew by marriage, Aelia Camilla bestowed a few words and a goodnight kiss on the cheek. I told her briefly about Helena's scavenger (it seemed wise; by tomorrow the girl might have laid waste to the household).

Aelia Camilla pulled a face. But she made no complaint; she was loyal to Helena. 'I am sure we can cope.'

'Please don't blame me for this.'

'Well, you do want a new nursemaid, Marcus.'

'But I would rather place my children in the care of someone who has known a happy life.'

'This girl may have one,' disagreed Helena's aunt. '- If Helena Justina takes to her.'

I sighed. 'Helena will turn her around, you mean?'

'Don't you think so?'

'She will try hard… Helena makes it her business. She turned me.'

Then Aelia Camilla gave me a smile of enormous sweetness, which to my surprise seemed genuine. 'Nonsense! Marcus Didius Falco, she never thought there was anything about you she needed to change.'

It was all getting too much for me: I went to bed myself.

Next day, 'Helena's wild girl' quickly became an object of attention for the children in the house.

Mine were too young to take much interest, though Julia was seen toddling up to stare. She was good at that. She came and stared at me sometimes, with an expression of private wonder that I preferred not to interpret.

It was Maia's bunch and the procurator's darlings who adopted Albia. Their interest was almost scientific, especially among the girls, who solemnly discussed what was best for this creature.

Clothing was found. 'This dress is blue, which is a nice colour, but the dress is not too expensive to look at,' Maia's Cloelia explained to me gravely. 'Then if she runs away back to her life, she won't attract the wrong kind of attention.'

'She eats very quickly,' little Ancus marvelled. He was about six, himself a faddy little boy who was always in trouble at mealtimes. 'If we take her food, she eats it straight away, even if she has only just had something.'

'She has been starved, Ancus,' I explained. 'She never had a chance to push her bowl away and whimper that she hates spinach. She has to eat what she can get, in case there is never any more.'

'We don't make her have spinach!' Ancus answered quickly.

Flavia, the procurator's eldest, was talking to the girl. 'Does she ever seem to understand you, Flavia?' I asked.

'Not yet. We are going to keep speaking to her in Latin and we think she will learn it.' I had heard the children naming household items as they towed Albia around with them. I even heard the eloquent Flavia describing me: 'That man is Marcus Didius, who married our cousin. His manner can be abrupt, but that is because he has plebeian origins. It makes him uncomfortable in ornate surroundings. He is more intelligent than he lets on, and he makes jokes that you don't notice until half an hour afterwards. He does work that is valued by the highest people, and is thought to have as yet under-explored qualities.'

I failed to recognise this creature. He sounded grim. Who in Olympus had Flavia been listening to?

It was difficult to say what the scavenger made of it. She had been plunged into this enormous residence, with its painted frescos, polished floors and high coffered ceilings, full of people who never screamed abuse at each other, who ate regularly, who slept in beds – the same bed every night. It was possible that her original parentage entitled her to some of those things, but she knew nothing of that. It seemed best not to suggest it. Meanwhile the girl must have wondered, as others of us did, how long her stay in the residence would last.

The slaves were contemptuous of course. A street foundling was lower even than them. They at least had a point of reference in the family who owned them. They were well fed, clothed, housed, and in the Frontinus and Hilaris menages they were treated with kindness; if ever freed, they would legally join their owners' families, on pretty equal terms. Albia had none of those advantages, yet she was nobody's property. She represented in the worst degree the adage that the freeborn poor live far less well than slaves in wealthy households. This cannot have comforted anyone. If the children had not been making such a pet of the creature, she would have had a hard time of it from the slaves.

The household ointments were not healing her grazes. Maia's children muttered among themselves about whether it was ethical to invade Petro's room and borrow something from his medicine chest. It was famously well stocked. 'Uncle Lucius forbade us to touch it.'

'He is not here. We can't ask him.'

They came to see me. 'Falco, will you ask him for us?'

'How can I do that?'

Crestfallen, Marius the elder boy explained, 'We thought you would know where he is. We thought he must have told you how to contact him.'

'Well he didn't tell me. But I can look in his box. Because I am an adult -'

'I have heard that doubted,' stated Cloelia. All Maia's children had inherited a rude trait, but apparently dear Cloelia was being merely factual.

'Well, because I am his friend then. I shall need the key -'

'Oh we know where he hides the key!' Great. I had known Petronius Longus since we were eighteen and I had never spotted where he stashed that key. He could be very secretive.

When I went to his room, we were all disappointed; his medicine chest was missing. I checked around more carefully. There were no weapons left behind either. He would never have left Italy without a decent armoury. It must be quite some drinking bout he was indulging in, if he took a full chest of remedies and a sword.

I went out later, on observation back in the riverside area. Marius came with me. He was tiring of the endless nurture of Albia. We both took our dogs for a walk. 'I don't mind if you sell Arctos!' Maia yelled after Marius. She must have heard about that dogman Helena and I encountered. 'Your pup's big and strong; he would make a lovely investment for somebody. Or a good meat stew,' she added cruelly.

A stalwart boy, Marius pretended he had not heard. He loved his dog and appeared fairly fond of his mother; brought up by my strict sister and her slapdash drinking husband, he had long ago learned diplomacy. At eleven, he was turning into a caricature of a good little Roman boy. He even had a small-sized toga my father had bought for him. Pa had totally neglected the rites of passage of his own sons – mainly because he was away from home with his paramour. Now he thought he would treat his grandsons traditionally. (The polite ones, that is. I had not noticed him spoiling the gutter tykes.) I told Marius he looked like a doll; I made him leave the top at the residence. 'We don't want to stand out as foreign prigs, Marius.'