Three Hands In The Fountain

'Be a pet,' Helena, reproved him. `While you're; jumping about and making silly remarks, pop into Father's study and bring me his annual calendar.'

`Planning another party?'

`No. Showing Marcus that his best partner is the one who lives with him.'

`Marcus knows that,' I said.

The senator had an expensive set of the Official Year in Rome: all the dates of all the months, marked with a C for when the Comitia could be in session, F for days when general public business was allowed and N for public holidays. Bad luck days had their black marks. All the fixed festivals, and all the Games, were named. Decimus had sweetly added to the almanac his wife's and children's birthdays, his own, and those of his favourite sister and a couple of well-off ones (who might remember him in their wills if he kept in with them) The latest addition in the blackest ink, which Helena pointed out to me, was the day when Julia Junilla had been born.

Helena Justina read all the way through in silence. Then she looked up and surveyed me with a stern gaze. `You know why I'm doing this?'

I looked meek, but made sure I demonstrated I could think too. `You're wondering about what Lollius said.'

Naturally Claudia and Justinus wanted to know who Lollius was and what he had pronounced upon. I told them, keeping it as tasteful as possible. Then while Claudia shuddered and Justinus looked grave Helena gave her opinion. `There must be well over a hundred public holidays annually, and a good fifty formal festivals. But the festivals are spread throughout the year whereas your brother-in-law said there were special times for finding these women's remains. I think the connection is the Games. Lollius said they find bodies in April – well, there are the Megalensis Games for Cybele, the Games of Ceres, and then the Floral Games, all in that month. The next big concentration is in July -'

`Which he also mentioned.'

`Quite. That's when we have the Apolline Games starting the day before the Nones, and later the Games for the Victories of Caesar which last for a whole ten days.'

`It all fits. Lollius maintains there is another bad time in the autumn.'

`Well, September has the great Roman Games lasting fifteen, days, and then at the beginning of next month are the Games in memory of Augustus followed at the end of October by the Games for the Victories of Sulla

`And the Plebeian Games in November,' I reminded her. I had spotted them earlier when squinting over her shoulder.

'Trust a republican!'

`Trust a plebeian,' I said.

`But what does this mean?' demanded Claudia excitedly. She thought we had solved the whole case.'

Justinus threw back his neatly shorn head and regarded the smoke-stained moulded plaster of the ceiling.- 'It means that Marcus Didius has found himself an excellent excuse to spend much of the next two months enjoying himself in the sporting arenas of our great city all the while calling it work.' But I shook my head sadly. `I only work when somebody pays me, Quintus.'

Helena shared my mood. `Besides, there would be no point in Marcus hanging around the Circus when he still has no idea who or what he should be looking for.

That sounded like most of the surveillance work I ever did.

NINETEEN

Petronius Longus was in an organising mood. His session with the Tiber boatmen had been as useless as I had prophesied, and he declared that we should abandon the pointless effort of wondering who was polluting the water supply. Petronius was going to sort out our business. (He was going to sort out me.) He would impose order. He would attract new work; he would plan our caseload; he would show me just how to generate wealth through blistering efficiency.

He spent a lot of time composing charts, while I plodded around the city delivering, court summonses. I brought in the meagre denarii, then Petro wrote them up in elaborate accounts systems. I was pleased to see him keeping out, of trouble.

Petronius seemed to be happy, though I was beginning to suspect he was covering something up even before I happened to pass by the vigiles' patrol: house and was hailed by Fusculus. 'Here, Falco; can't you keep that chief of ours occupied? He keeps moping around here getting in the way.'

`I thought he was either in our office causing havoc among my clients or out flirting.'

`Oh, he does that too – he pops in to see his honeycake when he finally leaves us in peace.'

`You're depressing me, Fusculus. No hope that he's dropped Milvia?'

`Well, if he had, done,' Fusculus told me cheerfully, `your clients would be safe; we'd have him back here permanently.'

`Don't flatter yourselves. Petronius loves the freelance life.'

`Oh, sure!' Fusculus laughed at me. `That's why he's' constantly nagging; Rubella for a reprieve.' `He doesn't get it, though. So how does Rubella, know that.

An hour later I was rapping on the huge bronze antelope knocker that summoned the door porter at the lavish home of Milvia and Florius.

Milvia is still live bait?'