Ode To A Banker (33 page)

'Really?' asked Maia, with a light disbelieving inflexion.

'Really.' Petro looked up suddenly with a faint smile that implied - well, maybe nothing at all.

We were all sitting subdued and silent when we were joined by Fusculus. He gazed around as if the atmosphere made him fear the worst, then weighed up his chiefs wounds with routine expertise. As a courtesy, he pulled a face. 'Nice ornaments!'

'Pretty effect, eh? It was close. Still, we're not booking a funeral. What's new?' Fusculus tossed a glance towards Maia. Suspicion mingled with masculine interest. Petronius said briefly, 'Falco's sister. You can speak.'

Now Fusculus was taking a better look at him, after noticing that Petro's throat was so sore it was limiting his speech. 'It's true? The bastard tried to strangle you...?'

'I'm all right.'

'Well, chief, I do have something to report. We know who he is. The description was easy enough to put around. He was a serious heavy, known as Bos. Built like a fighting bull -'

'We know that,' I commented.

Fusculus grinned. 'Rumour says you two tossed him over a balcony?'

'Very gently.'

'Accomplished with perfect etiquette? Well, Bos had a huge reputation. Nobody but you two crazymen would have dared tackle him. If you go down to the Forum today, you'll be treated like demigods -'

'What was his status?' interrupted Petronius.

'Brute-for-hire. Leaning on people. Squashing those who refused to co-operate. Mostly he just had to arrive on the doorstep and they gave up.'

'You surprise me!'

'Who used to hire him?' I asked Fusculus intently.

'Racketeers, rent-hungry landlords - and you guessed it: defaulted - on moneymen.'

'Particular clients?'

'Often a set of debt-collectors called the Ritusii. Harsh and hardhearted. Known for their tough methods and subtle hints of unacceptable violence.'

'Wrong side of the law?'

'No,' said Fusculus dryly. 'In their field, they make the law. They are never sued for compensation. Nobody lodges complaints.'

Petronius stretched awkwardly. 'I think I might make one.'

'Can we prove Bos was sent here by the Ritusii? Doubtful,' I reminded him. 'Neither they nor Lucrio will admit a connection; banks aren't supposed to use enforcers, for one thing. They made a bad mistake, attacking a vigiles officer - but they are unlikely to admit they sent Bos to hurt you.'

'They do know we suspect it,' Fusculus told us. 'A report had to go to the Prefect.' Petronius choked with annoyance. He had wanted to settle this in his own way. Still, he did not insist on knowing which over-hasty member of the cohort had made the report in his absence. 'The Prefect sent a detachment to pull their place apart.'

'Oh, good thinking! Find anything?' I scoffed sarcastically.

'What do you think?'

Petronius said nothing. Maia removed his empty beaker, which he seemed about to drop.

'
Do these Ritusii hardmen openly work for Lucrio and the Aurelian Bank?' I demanded.

'Not openly,' said Fusculus. Then an expectant grin stretched across his face. He had something to tell us and wanted to see us react. 'Anyway, Falco, less business will be coming their way from that direction now - the Aurelian Bank has been inundated with scaredclients wanting to withdraw their funds. Lucrio froze all accounts this morning and called in specialist liquidators. The bank has crashed.'

I helped Petro limp back to the reading couch, where he subsided drowsily.

'Can you look after yourself?'

'I'm in the hands of a lovely nurse,' he whispered with a husky pretence at secrecy. It was the traditional male response to being trapped in a sickbed. You have to play the game.

'Helena will be back any minute,' Maia retorted, whisking out of the room with a vigorous yank at her skirts.

I covered him over. 'Stop flirting with my sister. You may be the demigod who disposed of the giant Bos - but there's a queue for Maia. Don't risk your neck with Anacrites. That man is far too dangerous.'

I meant it. It would be bad enough if the Chief Spy made any headway with my sister, but if he did and she ever decided to dump him, it would threaten all our family. He had power. He controlled sinister resources, and he made a spiteful enemy. It was time all of us remembered .Anacrites had a darker side.

Of course if he was dumped by my mother at the same time as Maia saw through him, we were probably dead from the moment the letter saying 'Darling, we've had so much fun and I really hate writing this... landed on his Palace desk. I felt sick at the thought of anyone calling Anacrites darling. But that was nothing to my fear of his reaction if he ever lost face by rejection as a lover - especially if he then blamed me. He had tried to have me killed once, in Nabataea. It could happen again at any time.

As I brooded, Petronius was making some quiet joke: 'Ah, I won't have any luck with Maia. I'm her brother's horrible crony - tainted goods.'

Just as well. I hated all my brothers-in-law. What a pack of irritating swine. The last thing I could have tolerated was my best friend wanting to join them. Shaking my head to be rid of this thought, I set off to the Forum - not to be greeted like a hero, but to try to see Lucrio.

As I walked, I wondered why I had not told Maia the ill-tasting gossip about Anacrites and Ma. Pure cowardice, I admitted it.

Lucrio was nowhere to be found. I was hardly surprised. When any business goes bankrupt the executives ensure that the night before it becomes open knowledge they ride off to their personal villas a long way from Rome - taking the silverware and petty cash. The GoldenHorse change-table stood empty and unstaffed. I walked to Lucrio's home address. A fair-sized crowd had gathered, some just standing with an air of hopelessness, others flinging rocks at shutters in a desolate way. A few were probably debtors who wondered if they might escape repaying their loans now. The door stayed closed and the windows were well barred.

I felt disappointed. As a riot, it was a washout. Sightseers had started arriving just to watch for suicides among the crowd but the crowd, slightly embarrassed, all looked ready to filter off home. Those who had lost most money would stay away. They would resist accepting what had happened, pretending everything was fine. As long as they could, they would fight off despair. When it struck, nobody would see them again.

There was nothing to do here. When a sad tambourine man came to play and sing mournful drinking songs, I left before his grimy assistant reached me with the hat.

Forget Lucrio. Forget these blank loafers drifting about in the street. I did not know them and I did not care too much about their losses. But if the bank had crashed, it affected real people, people I did know. There was something I had to tackle urgently. I had to go and see Ma.

XLVI

IN MOTHER'S NEIGHBOUR Aristagoras, the little old fellow, was sunning himself in the portico. Ma always kept the commonareas of her block spick and span. Over the years, she must have saved the landlord hundreds in sweeper's fees. There were bright pots of roses by the front entrance, which she tended too.

Aristagoras called out a greeting; I raised an arm and kept going. He was a chatterer, I could tell.

I ran lightly up the stairs to the apartment. Most days, Ma was either out, whirling about the Aventine on errands and causing annoyance, or else she was in, scrubbing away at pots or chopping like fury in her cooking area. Today I just found her sitting still in a basket armchair that my late brother Festus had once given her (I knew, though she did not, that the cheeky beggar won it in a game of draughts). She had her hands folded rather tightly in her lap. As usual, her dress and hair were scrupulously neat, though a fine aura of tragic gloom enveloped her.

I closed the door gently. Two eyes like burnt raisins bored into me. I pulled up a stool beside her and squatted on it with my elbows on my knees.

'You heard about the Aurelian Bank?'

Ma nodded. 'One of the men who works for Anacrites came to see him early this morning. Is it true?'

'Afraid so. I've just been down there - all closed up. Did Anacrites manage to remove his cash?'

'He had notified the agent that he wanted to make a withdrawal, but the money has not yet been paid to him.'

'Tough.' I managed to sound neutral. I gazed at Ma. Despite her anxious stillness, her face was expressionless. 'They probably knew they were in trouble, you know; they would have slowed up on shelling out. I wouldn't be too concerned about him. He may have lost a packet with the Aurelian, but he must have plenty more hoarded away in other safe places. It goes with his job.'

'I see,' said Ma.

'Anyway,' I continued gravely, 'there are liquidators appointed. All Anacrites has to do is toddle along to see them, mention that he's the influential Chief Spy, and they will ensure he'll be top of the list of creditors who get paid in full. Only wise move they can make.'

'I'll tell him to do that!' Ma exclaimed, looking relieved on behalf of her protege. I ground my teeth. Telling him how to bail himself out had not really been my plan.

I waited, but Ma was still keeping her worries to herself. I felt a wrench of embarrassment, as one of her youngest children talking about her finances. For one thing, we had a long-standing tussle about whether I was ever allowed to take charge of anything. For another, she was desperately secretive.

'What about your own money, Ma?'

'Oh well, never mind that.'

'Stop fooling. You had a lot on deposit with that bank, don't pretend otherwise. Had you drawn any out recently?'

'No.'

'So they had it all. Well, Anacrites is the idiot who made you put it there; you should get him to lean on them for you.'

'I don't want to bother him.'

'Right. Look, I have to deal with Lucrio on another issue. I'll ask what the situation is. If there's any chance of getting your money back, I'll do what I can.'

'There is no need to go to any trouble. You don't need to worry about me,' wailed Ma pathetically. That was typical. In fact, I would never have heard the last of it if I had left her to stew in anxiety. I said politely that it was no trouble; I was a dutiful boy who loved his mother and I would happily devote my days to sorting out her affairs. Ma humphed.

This might have been the moment to mention the rumours about Anacrites growing too close as a lodger. My nerve failed.

I could hardly imagine Mother and the spy alone together. She had nursed him when he was desperately ill; that would have involved intimate personal contact - but it was surely different from having an affair. Ma and him in bed? Never! Not just because she was a lot older than him. Perhaps I just did not want to imagine my mother in bed with anyone .

'What's on your mind, son?' Ma noticed me thinking, a process she always regarded as dangerous. The traditional Roman virtues specifically exclude philosophy. Good boys don't dream. Goodmothers don't let them. She swiped at me. Out of long experience, I ducked just in time. I managed not to fall off my stool. Her hand sliced through my curls, missing my head. 'Own up!'

'I've heard a few rumours lately...'

Ma bristled. 'What rumours?'

'Just some nonsense.'

'What nonsense?'

'Not worth mentioning.'

'But worth thinking about until you get that silly grin!'

'Who's grinning?' I felt about three years old. The feeling was confirmed when my mother took hold of my ear, with a fierce grip that I knew too well.

'What exactly are you talking about?' demanded my mother. I wished I were fighting Bos again.

'People get the wrong idea.' I managed to writhe free. 'Look, it's none of my business -' My mother's Medusa stare told me that was probably true. 'I just happened to hear someone insinuate - obviously under a ridiculous misapprehension - that you might have taken up with a certain person of the male variety who sometimes frequents this place...'

Ma leapt out of her chair.

I sidestepped and hurried to the door, more than happy to leave indisgrace. With the door safely opened, I turned back and apologised. Ma said rigidly, 'I'll thank you - and I'll thank whatever busybodieshave been gossiping about me - to keep their noses out of my affairs.'

'Sorry, Ma. Of course, I never believed it -'

Her chin came up. She looked as if someone with his boots fresh from a cow-byre had dared to walk across a floor she had just washed. 'If I wanted a little bit of comfort in my final years, I am surely entitled to it.'

'Oh yes, Ma.' I tried not to look shocked.

'If I did have a friend I was rather fond of,' explained Ma heavily, 'assuming I dared to think I would be allowed to get away with it - then you and your high-minded sisters could rely on me to be discreet.' So she guessed it was one of my sisters spreading the story. I had better warn Junia to leave Italy.

'Sorry, Ma -'

'The least I could expect in return is a modicum of privacy!'

Dear gods. As a rebuttal, this was much weaker than I had hoped to hear. 'Yes, Ma.'