Three Hands In The Fountain

`I thought I might be. But I'm starting to get a new idea tell me: Aurelia Maesia visits her sister. Her name is Aurelia Grata, yes?' Titus nodded. Aurelia Grata… Somewhere in the murk of the Falco consciousness a memory had stirred. `And at the sister's house their old father joins them?'

`Yes.'

A bell was now ringing loudly in my tired brain. Echoes then sounded from several directions: `His name: wouldn't be Rosius Gratus?'

`That's right.'

`Lives up on the road to Sublaqueum?' `Yes.'

I breathed gently. No point rushing this. `And he travels to Rome too, when his daughter from Tibur is going up for festivals so does your mistress take him with her?'

`No. The old girl can't stand being penned up with him in the carriage. They get on, but it's best if they don't see too much of each other. That's why he continues to live on his own estate: He likes his drive to Rome in any case. He's a bit of a racer, actually.'

'What's his conveyance?'

`A cisium.'

`What – an old man in a topless two-wheeler, out in all weathers?'

`It's what he's always used.' I could hear Marina saying' -

Oh, he clings on manfully.

`Does he go to the Circus with' the women?'

`No, he sleeps all day and only wakes up for his dinner:' `But is Rosius Gratus still a man of the world in other ways?'

Titus blushed. `Afraid so.' -

I raised my eyebrows and grinned. `He sees a woman?','

`Always has done. It's supposed to be his big secret but we all have a laugh over it. How did you know?'

`Somebody who lives in the same street mentioned it. Well, that's another reason for not, travelling with his daughter. Old Rosius surely doesn't drive himself?'

`Someone takes him.'

`And this someone brings home the cisium while the old fellow stays with his daughters, then drives back to fetch the old fellow at the end of the festival?'

`Probably. The old fellow wouldn't need the cisium; I told you, he just nods off on a couch all day. Am I helping?' asked the boy earnestly.

`Very much, Titus. You've told me what I should have worked out for myself days ago. The problem was, I listened to someone I shouldn't have.'

`What do you mean?'

`Somebody told me Rosius Gratus never goes to Rome.'

`That's ridiculous.'

`People tell lies, Titus.' As I turned to find my horse I gazed at him gently. `You'll learn to look out for it. Take my advice: be especially careful of men who are standing around doing nothing, by the side of a track in a wood.' I swung into the saddle. It was an effort. `This driver of the cisium would his name be Thurius?'

`That's him.'

I should have known.

Titus wanted to give me; directions, but there was no need: I had to ride up the Via Valeria to the point where the aqueducts were taken from the River Anio, then turn off along the road to Sublaqueum. I had to do it, moreover, not in the whole day it would normally take for such a journey but in the few hours before dark.

I left a message with young Titus in case helpers ever followed me. I had no hope of support now. There was no time for them to get here. I was in this alone.

The Imperial post couriers can ride fifty miles in a day if they change horses, and so could I. Being already in possession of a cursus publicus mount helped me bluff. I managed to swap the grey for a stocky chestnut with a blaze at a, relay station just before the road to Horace's Farm; Another lost opportunity to visit the Bandusian Spring. I didn't care now. I had gone right off water.

The light was growing murky. I passed the aqueduct sources at the thirty-fifth and thirty-eighth milestones. On I galloped down the Sublaqueum road for four more miles until I came to the large mud reservoir. I stopped, looking for Bolanus. One of his public slaves soon appeared.

`Bolanus saw a cart drive by earlier. He went after it on a donkey.'

`Alone?'

`We've finished cleaning the basin. There was only him and me and a dragnet. He told me to wait here and warn you if you came.'

`I know where he's gone. Stay here in case help follows me; give them directions to the Rosius Gratus estate, will you?'

Upstream of the sluice that directed water into the basin, I could see the dragnet they had roped up across the river. Chilled, I prayed they had not caught anything today. 1 rode on, spurred by desperation. Now Bolanus had put himself in danger too. With his stiff back and his dim eye he would be no match for a vicious killer.

At the Rosius Gratus estate I slowed my mare to a canter. On the track to the house I saw nobody. The villa buildings lay silent; no slaves making their own entertainment here. My previous visit had given me: the impression there was only a small staff. The housekeeper was here, anyway because she had heard the horse and came out to investigate.

`Name's Falco. I-was here the other day. I need a word with Thurius – is he back from Rome?' She nodded. `What's he doing?''

`No idea. I don't keep track of that one.' She sounded disapproving. It all fitted.,

`Where shall I look for him?'