Three Hands In The Fountain

No; actually, there was a reason why other people stayed honest: setting up as, a rival to Cornella Flaccida was just too frightening. Who wants to be parboiled, roasted, skewered through every orifice, and served up trussed in a three-cheese glaze with their internal organs lightly sauteed as a separate piquant relish?

Of course I made that up. Flaccida would have said that as a punishment it was far too refined.

`Don't you damn well run away from me!' she yelled.

Petro and I were not running anywhere; we had not been given time even to think of it.

`Madam!' I exclaimed. Neutrality was a dubious refuge. `Don't play about with me!' she snarled. `What a repulsive suggestion.'

`Shut up, Falco.' Petro thought I wasn't helping. I shut up. Normally he was big enough to look after himself. The hard-bitten Flaccida might be more than he could deal with, though, so I stuck around loyally. Anyway, I wanted to see the fun.

I noticed Helena coming out on to our porch. My dog Nux nosed eagerly after her, sensing the master's return. Helena bent and clutched her collar nervously. She must be able to tell that our visitor was a woman who, probably bit off watchdogs' heads as a party piece,

Haven't I met you two grimeballs before?' Milvia's mother cannot have forgotten Petronius Longus, the enquiry chief who convicted her husband. Meeting her again face to face, I decided I preferred that she should not realise I was the hero with the social conscience who had actually widowed her.

`Charming that our vibrant personalities made such an impression,' I gurgled:

`Tell your clown to keep out of it,' Flaccida ordered Petro. He just smiled and let her run.

The dame tilted back her fading, blonde coiffure, and surveyed him as if he were a flea she had caught in her underwear. He gazed back, completely calm as usual. Big, solid, full of understated presence any mother should have envied her daughter's choice of him for a lover. Petronius Longus reeked of the controlled assurance women go for. The gods know, I had seen enough of them rush at him. What he lacked in looks he made up in size and obvious character, and these days he wore wicked haircuts too.

`You've got a nerve!'

`Spare me, Flaccida. You're embarrassing yourself.'

`I'll embarrass you! After everything you've done' to my family -'

`After everything your family has done to Rome and is probably doing still I'm surprised you haven't felt obliged to move to one of the remote provinces.'

`You destroyed us, then you had to seduce my little daughter too.'

`Your daughter's not so little.' And she doesn't take much seducing, Petronius implied. He was too courteous to insult her, though, even in his own defence.

`Leave Milvia alone!' It came out in a low hard growl like the raw noise of a lioness threatening her prey. `Your superiors in the vigiles would like to hear about you visiting my Milvia.'

`My superiors know.' His superiors, however, would not take kindly to angry visits to the tribune's office by the termagant Cornella Flaccida. This stinging hornet could cause Petro's dismissal.

`Florius hasn't heard about it yet."

'Oh, I'm terrified.'

'You'd better be!' yelled Flaccida. 'I've still got friends. I don't want you showing your face at our house and I promise you, Milvia's not coming to see you either!'

She turned away. At that moment Helena Justina lost her hold on Nux, who tore down from our apartment, a shaggy bundle of grey and brown fur, with her ears back and her sharp teeth bared. Nux was small and smelly, with a canine distaste for domestic upsets. As Flaccida stepped back into her litter, the dog raced straight for her, seized the embroidered hem of her expensive gown, and then backed away on her strong legs. There seemed to be diggers and boar-hunters somewhere in Nux's lineage. Flaccida slammed the litter door for her own safety. We heard a satisfying wrench of expensive material. Shrieking abuse, the dame ordered her bearers to be off, while my stubborn hound gripped her skirt hem until it tore free.

`Good dog!' cried Petronius and I. Nux wagged her tail proudly as she worried half a yard of Coan gown as if it were a dead rat.

Petro and I exchanged a private glance, not quite looking up at Helena. Then we gave each other a grave public salute. He went up to the old apartment, bouncing, on his heels like a chirpy dissident. I went home, looking like a good boy.

My darling's eyes were warm and friendly, and richly brown as the meat sauces at Imperial banquets. Her smile was dangerous. I kissed her anyway. A man should not be intimidated on his own doorstep. The kiss, though, was formally on the cheek.

'Marcus! What was all that about?'

`Just a homecomer's greeting -'

'Fool! The fright who left her flounce behind? Didn't I recognise Cornella Flaccida?' Helena had once helped me interview the woman.