Lindsey Davis - The Jupiter Myth

'The harpist,' said Helena. 'He was put here to spy – and it won't have taken him long to know Petronius was very close to Maia and her family. The children were always talking about you, Lucius.'

'One of the children's most vocal worries was why you had vanished, when you went under cover,' I groaned. 'The gang would have seen immediately why. They may have bought off the half-baked Londinium troops, but you were a different proposition.'

'And they could get to you through Maia,' Helena said. Petronius shook his head. 'I don't see why they would think that.'

'Don't fool yourself,' I said tersely.

'She treats me like -'

'Oh stop being dense! We all know what's up. Anyway, the harpist saw her go to your room that night.'

'What?' Helena riveted me with accusing eyes. Petronius himself, normally so relaxed, bit back any comment, but his annoyance was plain. Now they both knew that I had been a witness. My discretion over the incident won me no laurel crowns.

Restraining his anger, Petronius still tried to gloss it over: 'Just a fling…'

It was Helena's turn to lose her temper. 'Juno! Lucius Petronius, how can you be so hopeless? It's plain to everyone what Maia feels.'

He glared. 'Not to me.'

'Oh, let me tell you then!' Helena prowled the room. She was edgy and desperately worried about Maia. 'You drink too much, you flirt too much, you do dangerous work,' she rattled off. 'You are a risk to a woman who wants a good life – but Maia Favonia is aching to take that risk. You must be the most exciting man who ever courted her.' Petronius looked startled. Helena brought him down to earth: 'And there have been plenty! Maia wants you – but she doesn't want to be deceived by you. Her children love you – she doesn't want them to be let down. And now if you don't do something,' said Helena more quietly, stopping in her tracks, 'she will die because of you.'

'That won't happen.'

'So why,' demanded Helena furiously, 'are you just sitting here?'

'Because this is the game,' Petronius said baldly. He was indeed sitting (in a chair Maia herself had often used). His face was strained, but he must have slept last night and I had seen him look worse on many other occasions. He explained in a grim tone: 'They will give her back and take me instead – but first Florius has to toy with me.' He was right. Florius would humiliate him and torture him with fear for Maia. Only then would Florius reel him in. 'It's no fun unless I suffer. I am sitting here because I now have to wait until the bastard sends instructions.'

Petronius was very quiet and still. He knew exactly what fate awaited him if he gave himself up to the Florius gang. With Maia at stake, he would make the sacrifice.

They gave us a day and another night to suffer. While he waited for his next message, Petronius stayed at the residence. He ate sparingly, rested, occasionally sharpened his sword. He would not be allowed to use it. They would want him unarmed. This obsessive routine was just the old legionary's way of keeping sane before an action. I was doing the same.

I had my own tensions. From the moment Helena understood how serious the position was for Petronius, she made me responsible for saving him. Her dark eyes beseeched me to do something. I had to look away. If there had been anything I could have done, it would have been in hand.

Officialdom had finally swung into action. I could not decide if I approved, but it was reassuring to have some movement that was independent of the gangsters. The governor took personal control. He had men very quietly searching every known place connected to the Jupiter empire. Unlike the usual noisy raids conducted by government agencies, the troops went in in small groups, lacking only fur slippers to deaden their footfall. One at a time, they picked through all the bars and other premises that had overt links with the enforcers. The Norbanus house and the villa downstream had already been gone over and sealed.

Piecing together evidence for the gang's past routine, Frontinus now reckoned they used to collect their gains in the warehouse on the wharf for security, then Florius would come from the villa to transport it downstream in his small boat. A larger oceangoing craft probably nosed up the estuary and took moneychests on board from the villa's landing stage, before making for Italy. Since Petro's search party yesterday evening had found nothing at the villa, it must all have been sent overseas quite recently and would not yet have reached Rome. The navy, the grandly named British Fleet which patrolled the northern waters, had been alerted, though it might be too late to intercept the latest consignment. A cordon was now in place between Britain and Gaul, though realistically the gang might yet slip through. A message was signalled back home to the vigiles. Both Rome and Ostia would be on the alert. It would be a pleasant irony if Florius and Norbanus were brought down through charges relating to import tax. But the penalty would only be a heavy fine, so that would not suit Petronius.

We knew Florius was still in Britain. We assumed Norbanus was. Petro's most favoured venue for apprehending them was the warehouse where the baker had been killed. His customs contacts said it had been deserted, but he clung to his theory. The governor believed he could apprehend the fly-by-nights at the brothel. That was his bet as the place where, at the very last minute, my sister would be exchanged for Petronius.

'Seems fair,' agreed Petronius, in his dry tone. He looked at me, with an expression I remembered from when centurions gave us information we distrusted, back in the legions years ago. He thought the governor was way off. Florius would know now that Petronius had had the brothel under surveillance; he was unlikely ever to reappear there.

Petronius and I continued to wait at the residence. We had stopped honing our swords.

The next message arrived in the early evening. This time they did not use Popillius, but a driver who jumped off a passing delivery cart and grabbed the residence steward by the neck of his tunic. In a hoarse whisper, the slave was told, 'The swap will be at Caesar's Baths! Longus is to come in an hour. Tell him – alone and unarmed. Try anything, and the woman gets it!' The man vanished, leaving the steward almost uncertain that anything happened. Luckily he still had the sense to report it straight away.

There was no question of Petronius going solo. Nor could he go unarmed. He was a big lad, with a distinctive build; we had ruled out sending in a decoy. This was it.

Provincial governors do not jump to attention just because some lowlife makes the call. Julius Frontinus surveyed the evidence cautiously, before he too decided this was genuine. 'It's right away from the river if they intend making a getaway. But it is near the Norbanus house; maybe they hid Maia Favonia somewhere we missed.' He drew himself up. 'Maybe she was at these baths, or at the bar adjacent to them, all along.'

Petro and I let it pass. We knew we would not be sent directly to the place where they were holding Maia. Petronius would be drawn to a meet, probably via several staging posts, then Maia would be brought to the last spot – if the gang believed the situation safe.

'I'd like to put a search party into those baths.' Luckily Frontinus worked out for himself that that would jeopardise everything. 'We just have time to assemble the support team at the venue,' he told us. 'We shall be in place ready, before you two arrive.'

We nodded. We both still wore our old sceptical expression. I saw Helena gazing at us curiously.

When almost an hour had passed, Petronius and I combed our hair like boys going out to a party, checked our belts and bootstraps, and solemnly gave each other the legionaries' salute. We set off together, side by side. Behind us at a safe distance came Helena in her aunt's carrying chair, which would bring Maia home if we achieved the exchange. My role was to watch what happened – and find some way to rescue Petronius straight after the swap.