"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 cozy 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 onto 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 Id 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!"

"Oh, so she's being herself," I remarked bluntly. Then I risked it: "Are you in love with Maia?"

Petronius Longus slapped me on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about it," was his strained response. "Whatever I feel has been there for a long time. It never mattered to anyone before. There seems no reason why it has to matter now."

But I found that on behalf of both of them, it did matter to me.

???

We walked on in silence through the rain-sodden streets of this unformed, unfilled, vulnerable town. Evening had fallen. More rain was lowering in the dark skies. The immigrant wild people, entrepreneurs and crazy freaks who wanted to make their fortunes, were cowering at home. The pudding-faced Britons who originated here were sitting at their smoky firesides, trying to work out how to buckle a sandal strap. I hoped the judicial legate had taught these new citizens that very wet leather needs to be dried slowly, while stuffed with rags to preserve its shape…

When Petronius and I were almost at the procurator's house, we finally heard marching boots. Legionaries were coming toward us. They had failed to help us when we needed them. We glanced at each other, then with one accord stepped under an awning outside an olive oil shop, where we remained unseen until the soldiers passed.

XLIX

The day seemed long enough to me. Hours before, I had been roused at early light on Pyro's death, and since then I had been constantly active. We had made progress. Both chief villains had been identified. All we had to do was painstakingly track them down. Petro might convince himself we were at the world's end where they had nowhere to hide, but I felt less confident. The brief conflict with Splice had ended with his death in the amphitheater. But Florius and Norbanus could command enormous resources. Our task from now on could be demanding. So when I returned to the residence, I was determined to rest. I found Helena in our room. She sent for food trays, and we stayed private together with our children all that evening. No one bothered us. I did think of tackling Maia over Norbanus, but I was too tired. It would lead to a row. Tomorrow, I decided, I might manage to be more tactful.

Petronius had volunteered to report on the situation to the governor. Since Petro had his own clandestine position in Britain to discuss with Frontinus, I let him go alone. He would describe the gangsters' identities and our abortive reconnaissance, and if he wrangled with Frontinus about further action-which was quite likely, knowing the vigiles-that was their own grief.

The only gripe I wanted to tackle with the high-ups was their failure to provide military support. As with Maia, I was too angry to broach the subject now-well, too spent physically to be polite. Helena said she had mentioned the problem to her uncle, who had been surprised. According to him, prompt orders had been given for troops to attend the arena, and then later, when Helena returned home with Albia, more cover was supposed to have been sent to the Norbanus house. When I told her nobody had turned up, Helena was furious. After I fell asleep, I am sure she slipped out and berated Hilaris about me being left in danger.

It may have helped Petronius Longus. His discussion with the governor must have been fairly forceful, and he obtained a decent escort for a plan he still had. I learned next morning that at nearly nightfall Petro had crossed the river and ridden out to the Norbanus villa. He was convinced it must be searched that night, so he chinked off on horseback in the eerie light of torches. I knew why: he had decided that Florius-not Norbanus-had been secretly staying there.

Much later, Petronius returned to Londinium, disappointed. His search party had failed to find any evidence. The villa seemed to have been stripped. A guard was left, with orders to conduct a meticulous search the following morning in the light and then to wait in case either gangster should return. Petronius rode most of the way back to town, but it was too dark to cross the river so he stopped off at the mansio on the south bank where he had been lodging, and slept there. That was good, because if he had been given next morning's message in person, I know he would have sneaked off and dealt with it alone. I mean the message that Popillius brought for Petro from the two gang leaders.

Popillius arrived at breakfast time. He looked embarrassed. Since Petronius was absent, the governor ordered the lawyer to speak up. Anxiously Popillius repeated the message from Norbanus and Florius. When we heard it, we accepted that he had acted as a go-between from decent motives. Popillius had realized the situation was desperate. So did we.

The text was brutal. It was a ransom demand, though not for money. The gang said they had Maia. They were offering to return her-in exchange for Petronius.

L

There was panic. A swift search revealed that my sister was nowhere at the residence. Nobody had seen her for at least a day. The residence was large and people came and went at will. Then in the excitement over identifying the gangsters, she had not been missed. Her room looked the same as when Helena and I went in there yesterday morning; Maia had not slept there last night. Worse, although the gangsters had not mentioned them, none of her children could be found.