`No,' she said. That was even before she remembered how she came by her wounded ear. She was clearly not thinking about it, though seeing the scar again, I felt a warm sense of nostalgia.

We were both professionals. For different reasons we were attuned to the surges of communication – in my case talk, in hers the other thing. A cycle in this conversation had exhausted itself. By mutual agreement we gave up and relaxed.

I would have said neither of us had given any ground in the repartee stage, but then Lalage started playing with the clasp of a bracelet fretfully. Maybe she was weakening. (Maybe the arm decoration just had a tricky hook and loop.) 'So what do you want?' she asked again.

`To give you a word from a friend.'

`Oh?,

'You're driving me mad with that thing. Take it off and I'll mend it.' Surprised, she gave up trying to fix the bracelet and tossed it in my lap. It was a gorgeous bauble: fine gold scrollwork in sections, holding pale emeralds. Expensive, but ruined by the usual trashy clasp. `Got some tweezers?' She provided me with a handsome set, six or seven assorted toiletry tools on a ring. `Jewellers are stupid bastards.' I was working on a bent piece of gold wire that needed to be reshaped. `They spend hours of labour on the fancy parts, but begrudge a decent hook. That should hold. If you like the piece, get a new fastener.' I held out my hand for her arm. When I had replaced the bracelet on her scented wrist, I kept hold of her. My grip was friendly, but inescapable. She made no attempt to break away; prostitutes know when to avoid hurting themselves. I looked straight at her. 'Balbinus is in Rome.'

Her fine eyes narrowed. It was impossible to tell whether she was hearing this for the first time, or merely wished me to think so. Her mouth pursed. `That's bad news.'

`For everyone. Have any vigiles been to see you?'

`Not since you and your long friend.' I felt I could believe her when she was being factual. That could be a trick, of course.

'You can see the implications?'

`Not exactly. Balbinus is condemned. What can he do, Falco?'

`Quite a lot, it seems. The Fourth Cohort have been busting themselves trying to work out who was trying to replace him when all the time nobody was. Everything that's happened lately could be down to him.'

`Like what?'

`The Emporium raid, and the one at the Saepta. The deaths. You have presumably heard about the deaths?'

`Whose deaths are these?' she murmured, deliberately provoking me.

`Don't come it.'

There was no visible hardening; she remained the polite courtesan. But she said, without any change of tone, `If you don't want to pay for mauling me, would you mind letting go of my wrist?'

I gave her a stare, then opened my hand abruptly, fingers splayed. She waited a beat, then took back her arm., `I want to talk about Balbinus,' I said.

`And I don't.'

I looked at her carefully, seeing past the elegant attire, the fine paintwork on her eyelids and lashes, the allure of the gorgeous body. There were tiny lines and dark patches around those languorous, limpid brown eyes. `You're tired. The brothel's very quiet this morning too. What's up, Lalage? Having to work overtime at nights? Why's this? Someone squeezing you? Can it be that the profit margins of the Bower of Venus are being reduced by having to pay a managing director's fee again?'

`Take a jump in the river, Falco.'

`I'm surprised. I thought you enjoyed your independence, lass. I must admit, I respected you for it. I can't believe Balbinus just turned up and asked for a cut, and you gave it to him!'

`Don't even think it. I wouldn't give him half an as if he was bursting for the lavatory. Balbinus can't pressure me these days. He's condemned. If he's in Rome he'll have to stay in hiding, or he's for it.'

`Execution,' I agreed. Then I challenged her: `So you're not concealing him on the premises?'

She laughed.

I decided to accept her version. I had believed her when she talked of running the brothel without a protector. `You still ought to take an interest,' I warned. `Someone must be helping him, but if it's not you, you fall into the other category.'

`And what's that, Falco?'

`His enemies.'

There was a pause. Lalage had always been intelligent, top of the class when she went to school; I happened to know that. Finally she rasped, `You're talking about deaths again.'

`Nonnius Albius,' I confirmed. She must have known about his killing. `And the doctor who convinced Nonnius he was dying, the one who frightened him so much he felt prepared to turn Balbinus in. That was wrong, incidentally. The vigiles had set him up.'

I was hoping to shock her into making relevations but it was Lalage who surprised me. She laughed again, though somewhat bitterly. `Not entirely,' she said. Enjoying the thrill of seeing me startled, she stretched as gracefully as a panther; the action was automatic, not meant to be enticing, but I had to control myself. She smiled wryly. `It would only have been a set-up if Nonnius hadn't known about it.'`What do you mean?'

`Nonnius realised all along that the Fourth Cohort had sent that doctor to lie to him.'

Luckily Petronius Longus was no longer speaking to me, so I would be spared having to tell him this depressing news.

LII

T'S OLD HISTORY,' Lalage confessed. `What's the difference now Nonnius is dead? Who cares?'

'Balbinus cares!' I rapped back tersely. `And so should you.' `I don't see it.'

`You will when a gang of killers bursts in one night, and drags you off by the hair.'

`I'll wear a wig for a few days…' Flippancy was not her style. She knew her limits and it did not last. `This is a brothel. I thought you would have noticed that! We have a system to keep out hooligans.'

`Jupiter, I've seen your security! Macra busy counting the money, and a half-asleep hangdog who dies if you raise your voice to him? Nonnius had an armoured door. They broke in with artillery; it was a military raid.'

`Well thanks. Now I know what we have to be ready for.' She was unimpressed. She stretched her leg, dangling her sandal from a lithe instep. The footgear had a light sole but a substantial upper, the kind that is completely cut out in one piece of leather, then its myriad thongs tied up on top. Not a walking shoe, but that would not have troubled her. What troubled me was that it was being dangled from a very pretty foot.

Her blase attitude heated me more, but in a different way. `What's the matter with you, Lalage? Balbinus has perpetrated revenge killings on at least two people who brought him to trial. I was abroad at the time, but I understood Nonnius was not his only old associate to help the prosecution. You also gave evidence.'

`I was pressurised.'

`By Petronius Longus.'

`That's the bastard's name.'

`Call me simple, but it seems to me that helping to convict him puts you next on Balbinus' shopping list of corpses, Lalage.' `You're simple.' She knew exactly what she was saying when she

returned slyly, `I can think of one person who may be ahead of me.'

She meant Petronius. I hoped she could not see me going cold. `He's a big lad, and avoiding villains is his job. He can take his chance. There is still a serious risk to you.'

`I can deal with it.'

`The oldest lie in the world, Lalage! History is littered with the corpses of fools who gurgled, "I'm different. I can keep out of the way!" Or have you bought him off?' I was angry as the thought struck me. `One of the vigiles has been murdered too. Are you responsible for that? Did you betray Linus?'

`I've never even heard of him.' She spoke calmly. I wanted to believe her.

`Have you seen Balbinus recently?' `No.'

`He must need a bolt hole. Has he asked to hide up here?' `That again! Don't make me laugh, Falco.'