ODE TO A BANKER

The rest was interesting. Dark figures suddenly materialised and bent over the body. I saw one pale face looking up, too far away to identify. Weak as I was by then, I could have been mistaken, but it seemed to me they made an attempt at dragging off the corpse. He must have been too heavy. After a moment they all rapidly walked away.

The next men to arrive had a lantern and a whistle, and were clearly a troop of vigiles.

We waited for them to notice that they were near Petro's apartment and come upstairs to us. We were both wrecked. We could have called down to them. We were too exhausted to do anything more than wave feebly.

`Who was your friend, Lucius?' I demanded wryly.

`Yours, I think, Marcus.'

`I really must notify the world that I have changed my address.'

`Good,' Petronius agreed. He was in a bad way now. As we tried to recover, failing mostly, he added in a quiet voice, `He wanted to stop the rumours about the Aurelian Bank.'

`He told you? He didn't mind you knowing he was sent by Lucrio?'

Petro's voice rasped, due to his damaged throat. One hand was holding his neck. `I was meant to end up dead.'

We remained silent for a while. Enjoying the moment. Both savouring the fact that Lucius Petronius Longus was alive.

`Was that,' he croaked, `my toga you destroyed?' He hated wearing a toga, like any good Roman. Unfortunately, it was a necessary element of life.

`Afraid so.' I lolled against the outside wall, feeling slightly sick. `Shredded, I fear. I would give you mine, but Nux whelped her pup on it.'

Petronius sat down on his haunches, unable to stay upright. He held his head between his hands. `We can buy matching new ones, like best friends.' There was a pause. Not for the first time in our lives, we were best friends who were feeling rather ill. This time we could not even blame it on a night of debauchery. `Thanks, Falco.'

`Don't thank me.' Petro had taken a lot of damage before I arrived. He was ready to pass out. I was too weak to help him much, but I could hear the vigiles coming up the stairs now. `My dear Lucius, you haven't heard me confess yet what I did to your amphora.'

`Not the Chalybonium? I really wanted to try that…'

`Imported, isn't it? Must have cost you!'

`You damned menace,' Petronius muttered weakly. Then he keeled over. I had no strength to catch him, but I managed to get my left foot stretched out so his face – no longer that suffocated purple – landed on my foot. At least it was a better pillow than the floor.

XLV

I WOKE LATE, in my own bed again. My sister Maia was looking in I at the bedroom door. `Want a drink? I've made hot mulsum.'

Moving carefully, I crawled to the living room. I ached, but I had been worse. Nothing was broken or split open this time. I had no internal pain.

Nux and the puppy wagged ecstatic tails. The puppy wagged his little worm perpetually, but Nux meant a real welcome. Julia was striding about in her wheeled walking-frame; she no longer needed it, she just enjoyed the racket. Maia had been left in charge.

There was no sign of Helena. `Do you know what she's doing?'

`Oh yes!' replied Maia forcefully. `I know exactly what she thinks she's up to.' Cradling my beaker, I shot her an enquiring look. Her tone of voice modified. `Changing her library book, apparently.' Swapping Greek novels with Passus. Maia was obviously not going to tell me what had caused her to sound so indignant: some girls' stuff that I was not yet old enough to know about.

`How's Petronius?' The vigiles had stretchered him over here last night and laid him on our reading couch.

`Awake.'

`Well enough to keep an eye on you two,' he rasped himself, appearing in the doorway, barefoot, bare-chested and wrapped in a sheet. Julia trundled herself over to him, bumping hard into his knee. He winced. Maia indicated the end of my bench, then unhelpfully watched Petro aim himself across the room to sit. Once he had landed, he gave her a bared-teeth grin, acknowledging that he had nearly toppled over and that she had known it would be a close thing.

Maia looked at us, from one to another. `You're a right pair.'

`Cute little treasures?' I suggested.

`Stupid chancers,' sneered Maia.

I wondered when Helena would return. I needed to see her. My sister would forget her scorn soon enough. Helena, who never said much after I had been in trouble, would nonetheless remember this event far longer and would grieve over its danger more deeply. Every time there were bad street sounds in the night, I would have to pull her into my arms and shield her from the memory of last night's terror.

Petro was reaching to collect the beaker Maia had grudgingly poured for him. The sheet slipped, showing widespread bruising. Scythax, the vigiles doctor, had been summoned last night and had examined him for broken ribs, but thought none was damaged. He had left a painkilling draught, some of which Petro unobtrusively poured into his cup.