Lindsey Davis - Three Hands in The Fountain

'Have they been in your street this week?'

'I haven't noticed.' Marina had a slightly shifty look; I guessed she wanted to avoid telling me she had been out a lot, dumping Marcia somewhere else. There was no point in trying to pursue that.

'This driver isn't a small red-haired man with a limp?'

'Oh, gods, where do you think them up? No; he's a man, so he's ugly – but ordinary.' Once again I reluctantly acknowledged that this was not our convenient suspect Damon.

'Does he flirt?'

'How would I know?' scoffed Marina, drawing herself up indignantly. 'What's this about?'

I spoke gently: 'Oh, I just wondered if the vehicle we saw in the Forum belonged to the man who must have been there that night throwing the head of a murdered woman down the Cloaca Maxima.'

She went pale. Her fluttery friends grew still. 'You're trying to frighten me.'

'Yes, I am. All of you, take care tonight. Marina, if you see this sit-up-and-suffer cart, try to find me or Petronius.'

'Is it him? The bastard you're looking for?'

'It doesn't sound quite right, but I need to check. If it's not him, the real bastard is still likely to be out and about.'

I told her I would be coming to see her tomorrow and would want her to point out the house of the ancient prostitute, who would have to be interviewed. So much for the Street of Honour and Virtue. As usual, it was living up flagrantly to its charming name.

I stayed at the Temple until nearly dawn. I saw nothing relevant.

What Marina had said was niggling me. While I waited far longer than usual for Petro, I realised I badly wanted to consult with him. He must be clinging on until the very last minute, reluctant to admit we had wasted another night.

I walked down the temple steps, taking care not to step on any cracks in case I alerted the pavement bears. I began to pace round the Circus in search of Petro. If he was there, I never found him. Instead, by the now closed grand exit gate under its arch in the centre of the apse, I saw something that caught my attention. Torches. They were bright, and apparently newly lit, whereas the few lamps left in the streets had all faded to a dim flicker.

I had run into a group of slaves, led by a young man in patrician whites whom I recognised immediately. From his anxious behaviour I knew before I even called his name that he was in some kind of trouble.

'Aelianus!'

Helena's least favourite brother had been rushing to and fro outside the Circus gate. When he saw me, pride made him slow and straighten up. 'Falco!' It came out with too much urgency. He knew that I knew he was desperate.

'Marcus Didius – perhaps you can help me.'

'What's wrong?' I had a bad feeling.

'Nothing, I hope – but I seem to have lost Claudia.'

The feeling was correct then: and a nightmare had begun.

'How long has she been missing?'

'Oh, gods! Hours!'

'Hours?'

'Since this evening -'

I gave the dawn sky a meaningful glance. 'Last night.'

'You don't have to tell me! This is terrible – and we're expecting her grandparents any day now -'

He pulled himself up, shaking his head at himself for clinging to such trivialities. I had wanted to see Aelianus in misery, but not like this. He was arrogant, crass and snobbish, and had hurt Helena very much by criticising us. Now he stood in the street, a hot, bothered, stocky young figure trying to bluff it out. I knew, and he must appreciate, that he was staring at a tragedy.

'Keep calm.' Relief at having somebody to share his grief nearly made him useless. I gripped his shoulders to stop him panicking. The smart white cloth of his handsomely napped tunic was soaked with sweat.

'Claudia wanted to go to the Games and I didn't. I dropped her off -'

'By herself? I'm no social prude, but she's a young girl, and a stranger to Rome!'

'Justinus used to go with her, but -' Justinus had gone abroad. This was not the time to ask his brother why.

'So you left her. Do your parents know that?'

'They know now! When I came to pick her up as we had arranged, Claudia failed to meet me. Then I made a lot of mistakes.'

'Tell me.'

'I looked everywhere. I was annoyed with her at first – I nearly went off in disgust for a drink -' I said nothing. 'I assumed she was tired of waiting. Claudia does not have a high opinion of my organising powers.' It sounded as though there might be more to this than a lovers' tiff. 'I thought she must have given up on me and walked home.'

I bit back an angry exclamation of -Alone?

It was not far. Up to the start of the Street of the Three Altars, and turn right down the Via Appia. You could see the Capena Gate from the first crossroads, behind the Aqua Appia and Aqua Claudia. To reach the Camillus house would take only a few minutes for Aelianus, frantically hurrying, and not much longer even for Claudia. She would know the way. She would feel safe.

'So you rushed back home?'

'No luck.'

Did you confess to your father?'

'Another mistake! I was ashamed. I tried to put things right myself – I quietly grabbed all the slaves I could find and came back to search. It was no good, of course. I went into the Circus but everyone near her seat had left. Of course the aediles in charge just laughed at me. I went home; told Papa; he is informing the vigiles while I keep searching -'

'You're too late.' There was nothing to gain by sparing him the truth. Claudia Rufina was a sensible, thoughtful girl. Far too considerate to be merely playing up. 'Aulus -' I rarely called him by his private name. 'This is very serious.'

'I understand.' No excuses. No wild self-reproach either, though I could see he blamed himself. Well, I knew how that felt. 'Will you help me, Falco?'

I shrugged. This was my job. The Camilli were in part my family anyway.

'You don't know the worst.' Aelianus was gritting his teeth to confess. 'Earlier I spoke to an itinerant food-seller. The man said he had seen a girl who matched my description of Claudia waiting alone by the gate. A little while later she was talking to the driver of a vehicle – a cart, he said, but he was unsure exactly. He thought she got in, then she was driven off at speed.'

'Which direction?'

He had no idea, of course. Nor had he demanded a description of whoever was driving her. And the food-seller was long gone.

We sent the slaves home.

I walked Aelianus briskly to the Street of the Three Altars. That was when I found a member of the vigiles on Petro's usual spot, and he told me Petronius had gone off somewhere.

'Where in Hades is he?'

'Following a suspect, sir.'

'What suspect?'

'Ginger, with the bad leg.'

'Here? Damon? He had a vigiles tail on him!' Besides, we had all agreed: Damon was not our suspect.

'Petro went along to share the job. He said things here had gone dead. He was following his nose.'

'When was this?'

'Way back. He ordered me to wait here, but everyone's gone home now. I was just coming to tell you to give up expecting him.'

I swore under my breath. 'Was Damon alone?'

'Had a woman with him.'

'Smart girl in a white dress, rather big nose?'

'No. Filthy piece in a red skirt, showing her legs.' He could have switched later. Girls who show their legs can often sense trouble. Red skirt might have ditched him. Claudia would have appeared a much easier target – but Damon could still be with the red skirt, while somebody else had Claudia. If so, we had no idea who.

'Find where they got to. Find Petro. Tell him – no; first get a message to your commander: a respectable girl has been abducted this evening while we all stood around like bloody wall paintings. Whoever took her has transport. In case he hasn't left the city yet, we need every vehicle that's on the road tonight searched – and we need to start now. Concentrate in the eastern districts; he will be heading for Tibur.'