Wolf Whistle

‘Well, that was it.’ The old footslogger smiled pityingly. ‘There wasn’t no hair, not even lying underneath the body. As I said, Probus jumped the gun.’

Orbilio lifted the torn flaps of the girl’s sleeve. ‘The blue dragon.’

‘Yes, but as you can see, sir, the throat’s been cut, and those other wounds were made after she had died.’

Same thing happens every time, thought Ancus. No sooner do we get a batch of ritual killings, than some other warped bastard comes along and tries to imitate them.

The tall patrician straightened up, brushing his hands. ‘Possibly,’ he acknowledged. ‘But ask around, Ancus. See whether anyone heard a whistle, only don’t say why.’ So far, the whistle was something only the military knew about. ‘Find out her name, start asking questions about her background, who she was friends with-?’

Ancus scratched his armpit. ‘We know her name, sir, it’s Zygia. Don’t look surprised,’ he chuckled. ‘She’s well known for running errands for the aedile who organizes the Games. Lives up there on the Capitol.’ He smiled knowingly. ‘Take it from me, sir, this’ll be the work of a boyfriend.’

‘What makes you so certain?’ Orbilio leaned his weight against Pan’s cloven hoof.

‘Well, her clothes have been ripped off, but her hands and feet weren’t tied and there’s no hair in the lap, but most of all,’ Ancus tapped the side of his nose, ‘this place, sir. The Wolf Grotto. I’d say she gave him the old heave-ho and he turned nasty. Perhaps it was a married man she was meeting here in secret-folk do that, you know.’ He laughed outright. ‘They think this cave’s romantic.’

The young investigator smiled non-commitally back.

‘No, don’t you waste your energy worrying about this girl’s killer, sir. Me and Probus will have the boyfriend in the nick in no time. You concentrate on protecting the life of the Emperor, sir. Here, did you know they’ve already uncovered one plot…’

Few things in this life can be classed certainties, but one thing you can bank on. The older the soldier, the more gossip he’ll have to impart. Ancus didn’t stop talking for a full ten minutes.

XVI

With thoughts of the latest murder banished to a cold, dark place in her mind as she made her way to Kaeso’s house on the Quirinal, Claudia was singing the Bull Dancers’ anthem.

‘From beyond the Pindus Mo-un-tains,

To the Pa-ga-saean Gulf.

Da-di-da di something some-thing

And a da-di dum.’

Was there anything to match those Thessalian daredevils? As a side-effect of peace, of course, people need more and more excitement in their diet, hence pedigree horsemen on shiny black stallions thundering after the bulls. The silver bells on their bridles offset the snorting fury, and gold streamers in their manes shone through the clouds of sand. Over they jumped, the riders, on to the backs of the bulls, gripping their horns and twisting their necks so they ‘danced’. How no one got gored was a miracle.

‘From beyond the Pindus Mo-un-tains,

To the wide The-ssa-ly plain.

Da-di da-di- What, ho, Tu-ucca,

Nice to see your face again.’

Still singing, she pushed her way past the mute and waved an imaginary baton to the rhythm as she made her way through the echoing house. In the dismal peristyle, a brindle dog lay dozing, as Claudia danced up to the polished cypress door that separated the outside world from Kaeso and she breezed inside. Damn. This time she took care to check the shadows, but no. She really was alone. Applewood logs still crackled on the fire in this wine-dark, mellow studio, bringing the leaping curios to life.

‘It’s a fine collection, isn’t it?’

Where the hell did he spring from? Her eyes had swept the rooms as she passed through, the garden- Suddenly she looked at him with different eyes. The shoulder-length hair mane. The grey eyes. The powerful build. She thought of the brindle dog. Oh, for gods’ sake. No one believes in Shape Shifters!

She tossed back her head. ‘Have you made your decision?’

Kaeso clicked the door behind him and his musky scent engulfed the applewood. Swirling his cloak from his shoulders, he leaned his forearms on the back of a chair and bridged his fingers. ‘You’ll have to tell me why,’ he said, staring at the pictures in the flames.

Claudia studied the chiselled profile. Kaeso wouldn’t keep two women dangling. Kaeso wouldn’t ally himself to a woman whose blood was the same hue and still flirt with a rich merchant’s widow.

‘You don’t give up, do you?’

‘Never.’ He turned his craggy smile on her. ‘It’s a fault.’

It was too warm in here for a fire, she thought. ‘Then read these.’ Opening a secret pouch in her cloak, she drew out a sample of Magic’s ramblings.

Kaeso read them through several times. ‘These,’ he said at length, ‘are deeply unpleasant.’

There was an even longer wait as his fingers evaluated the parchment and its blob of golden wax. ‘He won’t be an easy man to track down.’ He squinted hard at the seal. ‘Third grade pith, the most common, and cobra rings are enormously popular.’

‘But you can find him?’

‘I can find him.’

‘And you’ll kill him?’