Lindsey Davis - The Jupiter Myth

'Not with my wife,' I replied.

The lawyer's directions took us to a neat house on the bank of the main stream There stood several shrines to the Three Mother Goddesses, bulging British deities sitting among fruit and baskets of wool and looking as if they would clout anyone disrespectful rather hard around the ears. A couple of other buildings in the vicinity were using the water supply for light industry, among them a pottery and a decorative metal works. These must be where those neighbours lived who thought Norbanus such a nice man.

Petronius and I approached quietly. We walked discreetly all around the boundary. It was quiet. Nobody was about, that we could see. But if this was the headquarters of a major gang of criminals, armed personnel could be all over the ground, waiting to ambush us.

'You knock on the door,' I said. 'He knows me.'

'He's met me too.'

We were behaving like naughty schoolboys who planned to disturb the porter then run away. We did not make a move, however. We were taking stock. For one thing, while Norbanus had no reason yet to suppose we were on to him, this house lay close to the arena, and not far from the waterwheel hut. There was a possibility that Florius had hidden up here. If we had only associated him with Norbanus before this, we could have searched this house in time.

Now however, the question was not did Florius come here after the fight – we both thought it almost certain – but was he still on the premises?

'I think he would bolt to his associate, get his breath, then move on fast,' Petronius said. I agreed. But we still needed to approach the joint with care. If Florius and Norbanus were both there, this operation really needed more than two of us. Even Norbanus must be far more dangerous than he had always seemed.

We had already made plans to cover the worst contingency. Helena Justina was to ask the governor to send troops. But would they ever come? I had requested support earlier, when I first left to join Chloris at the amphitheatre: the riot was all over before a few desultory soldiers turned up. Petro and I could be sitting here all day waiting for reinforcements.

We chose to investigate by ourselves. We would certainly do that without thinking if we were back home on the Aventine.

We did wait for some time. It gave us a feel for the place. We stood against the wall of the next door house and dutifully watched the Norbanus residence. Nobody went in or out. Most houses are like that except at certain times of day. This was not one of the busy times. There was no activity.

In the end, I was sent in. Petronius lay in wait outside, watching to see if anybody legged it out the back way. He told me reassuringly that if anyone jumped me he would see who did it. I made a rather short reply.

The door was answered, fairly swiftly, by a perfectly innocuous household slave.

'Greetings. I am Didius Falco. Is my sister here?'

Why did I still feel like a schoolboy? Perhaps because I had asked that question numerous times in the distant past, when my mother sent me out on vain errands to round up my horrid siblings. At least now the rest of my story had changed: 'My sister is Maia Favonia. She and your master are on friendly terms.' I really did feel quite anxious that Maia might be with the crook.

'She is not here.'

'You know her?'

'Never seen her.'

'Is Norbanus at home?'

'He's out.'

'When are you expecting him back?'

'Later.'

'Well look – I don't know if you would like to do this, but he very kindly promised to show me around his house. I am thinking of renting a similar place and I wanted to see what they are like. To save me a wasted journey, is there any chance…'

Of course there was. The slave, a Briton who came with the rented property, I guessed, was perfectly willing to show me everything. But then his master would not object, would he? Everyone said Norbanus Murena was such a pleasant man.

'Can I ask my friend to come in too?' Petronius Longus was just as welcome as me. I winked at him triumphantly. He kicked my ankle.

We searched the whole place. We even looked in the outbuildings. Well, you need to know what stabling and workshop facilities are available when you take on a lease. We were feeling pretty proud of ourselves. The slave had no idea we were fishy specimens.

The house was small by Mediterranean standards, set around a tiny courtyard which could never see much sun. Wattle and daub in some parts; elsewhere brick built, with a decent pantiled roof. The best rooms actually had sheets of translucent talc on the windows and were frescoed in a basic way. Painted panels were divided by finely traced candelabra and urns; long-beaked birds of only slightly uncertain parentage bowed to each other in pairs on mottled ochre friezework. The furnishings were spare but adequate, less masculine and more fussy in style than I expected. Everywhere was clean and well- kept.

As a gangster's palace this lacked ostentation. That was wise. Londinium had not grown much since its days as a traders' camp among the marshes. To install grandiose marble and exquisite artwork, when even the governor so far had only a few building-trenches in place for his headquarters, would be indiscreet.

'Norbanus has a villa downstream too, hasn't he? Do you know if he rents or owns?'

'The villa is being built just for him.' So that was where some of his profits were invested.

'Is it across on the south bank?' asked Petro.

'Yes sir. Close to the religious sanctuary on a hill just outside town.'

Petronius knew it; his expression was sardonic. 'That's the new complex for the temples of the Imperial Cult, Falco. Our friend Norbanus has pitched his tent to be all cosy with the Emperor!'

'No, he's down by the river,' the slave corrected him snootily. 'The imperial estate owns all the high ground.'

Instead, Norbanus would have access to the water and its amenities. I bet that suited him. He could make a quick getaway, in case of trouble.

'So where is he today?' I asked innocently. 'His villa?'

'I'm afraid I cannot say, but we keep the house in readiness; he sleeps here most nights.'

By now we had been led back to the exit and were poised to leave. 'What about his friend?' asked Petronius. I saw he intended to take a chance. 'Do you see much of Florius?'

The slave did pause, though it was imperceptible. Perhaps his gaze sharpened, but he replied smoothly. 'Yes, he has been known to visit, but I've not seen him for some days.'

Well, that confirmed the gangsters' partnership. But it would also tell them we were on to both of them. The slave was bound to report back what we had said.

Petronius was keen for results now. He had taken a bloody-minded risk; this was his field of expertise, but I felt uneasy. Abandoning secrecy might get him more than he bargained for.

The door was open. We were being shunted out.

As we walked outside, we both stepped wide to allow entry to newcomers. This pair was familiar: the blind harpist and his boy. The boy scowled at me, then gave Petronius an even filthier look.

Petro and I walked around them, nodded coolly, then strode on. After a few steps I looked back and saw that the boy with the unpleasant stare was now watching us; Petronius in particular seemed to excite his interest. That did bother me. 'Our presence will be reported. Norbanus may feel we have encroached too closely.'

'Good!' snarled Petro.

I did not admit that I'd seen the harpist spying on Maia last night as she went to his room. My own role in that incident would be difficult to explain. But I did say, 'I'm worried about Maia. Need to warn her about Norbanus.'

'Good thinking.'

After a while I asked him straight out: 'Is something going on between my sister and you?'

Petronius looked at me sideways. Then he shrugged. His voice was hard. 'You had better ask her. And if she does happen to tell you her intentions, you could pass on her answer to me!'