LXIV

It seemed an age since I had visited the house in Abacus Street. It was night now, but the house was flooded with light; she had three hefty legacies to pay for oil in her candelabra. In most homes work would have stopped. But Severina was doing the only thing left to a home-loving girl who had no prospective husband this week; sitting at her loom, planning how to catch another one.

I watched her, remembering what my sister Maia had told me about noticing whether the weaving was genuine. I reckoned it was. Even if nothing else about her could be trusted, she worked with a sure touch. When I came in she was able to keep the shuttle moving even though she glanced up angrily.

“Lunch has been cleared, Falco!”

“And dinner too. Sorry.” I walked to the couch, so she had to skew round from her work. I buried my face in my hands wearily. “Oh Zotica. Today’s been one trial after another; gods, I’m tired…”

“Anything we can get you?” she felt compelled to ask.

“No. All I want is honest company and conversation with a friend.” I breathed in heavily, then expelled the air hard to clear my lungs. When I looked up, she had dropped her wool altogether and was watching me nervously. “I just left the Hortensius place. Before that, Priscillus.”

“What happened?” By now she was prickling with delight at facing a grand occasion. She knew I had come to finish things. Excitement was her medium; I would have to trip her over unexpectedly, or I would never succeed.

“Bad acting and lies mostly. Anyway, I’ve wrapped it all up for you … afraid the women filled me up with wine; I’m not myself—” I forced a grin, then flung up my hands. “I feel soiled, Zotica. I resent being toyed with. I particularly resent the none-too-subtle implication that I am just another attractive artwork any freedwoman with more cash than discrimination can buy!” I had set off rambling pleasantly. “I like to be a genuine find. The years have given me one or two knocks that will never be hammered out again, but my personality has been burnished into a choice investment for a connoisseur…”

“What’s the matter, Falco?” Severina giggled.

“Nothing. Actually, I think it’s all right. I think that without a shred of proper evidence I put the frighteners on all of them.”

“Tell me then!”

I ticked them off on my fingers. “Crepito and Felix know Priscillus would happily have poisoned them—so the dangerous idea of a joint partnership is scuppered. Now Novus is gone, their grip on the Hortensius empire has slipped a bit—especially since I’ve said that they are liable to a senatorial enquiry. They should be hastily cleaning up their business habits and devoting their lives to public works … Priscillus believes the other two are turning him in to the law. He’s rushed off on a long sea cruise. That should be good news for his tenants. With any luck, he’ll drown before he dares return to Rome.”

“How did you achieve all this?”

“It was nothing. Persuasiveness and charm. Meanwhile Pollia and Atilia are terrified that if they put a foot wrong I’ll send them to the arena for their attempts to poison Novus. In return for my silence they are taking up noble deeds—in their own lavish style of course. I persuaded them to apply their energy to an establishment for orphaned girls. You’re an orphan, aren’t you; I could get you a place if you want—”

“How much liquor have they given you?”

“Not enough; it was a highly acceptable vintage.”

Severina laughed at me. I beamed at her. Suddenly she realised the merriment was a ploy and I was sober after all.

“My house fell down today,” I said. I let the smile go out of my eyes. “But of course, you know all about that.”