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Chapters (65)
  1. COVER
  2. NEMESIS
  3. ROME AND LATIUM: SUMMER, AD 77
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‘Go on,’ Petro encouraged him, far too politely.

‘Justus dropped dead last year—according to you lot, he probably died of a bad conscience. Then two girls, me, Felix—Felix, the happy and fortunate—and a clever little sod too; well we lost him early, naturally . . . another sister, the twins Virtus and Pius, and Era, then triplets who all died at birth, Providentia, Nobilis—he’s the one you people usually blame, every time an apple falls from a tree and the owner squeals, Those Claudii stole it!—’

I had had enough. Probus continued his long list, but his sly, teasing attitude was more than I could take. Every name made me angrier. ‘Let’s stop messing about!’ Petronius snatched at my arm but I shook him off. ‘Probus, you know why we have come. A body was found; it was not pretty. Stop lying and admit that Modestus and his wife came here to complain.’

I strode forward. The thug stepped back in mock alarm. ‘Oh they came!’ he delighted in telling me. His black teeth showed in a gleeful grin. ‘And they’re not here now—however many of you cocky Romans barge about looking for them!’

That was all he said, because I socked him. I hit him low and hard, then as he doubled up, I struck again. If I had been alone with him, I would have carried on for half an hour. I felt so much aggression, I startled myself.

‘Falco!’

Petro and one of the others dragged me off. ‘Don’t make me wish I hadn’t let you come,’ muttered Lucius Petronius, eye to eye with me and speaking low.

I wrenched free and stumbled away from him. Then I left him to deal with it. I walked off stiffly into the forest by myself.

20

I strode through the woods in a straight line. No point getting lost. When I came upon a path, I poked a stick in the ground, upright, to show me where to turn on my way back. I had no plan. I was not following the precept that sometimes on a bogged-down investigation, striking out blind can lead you to a clue. I was just overwrought.

I had calmed down by the time I came across more marsh-dwellers.

I walked into a similar campsite, just as poor as the last, just as untidy, just as unedifying. It had scenic advantages, however. It looked out on fields, for one thing. They were not bad fields either, my country background told me that, though their boundary fences were in a bad state.