Time to Depart Read Free

himself up like a man of fashion. On duty it was better to be protected by a leather jerkin that might deflect a knife blade and a thick wool cloak which would shrug off the mud if he hurled himself to the pavement when tackling a runaway. His boots had come up hard on quite a few doorframes too by the looks of them.
    'So who was the high-principled, public-minded citizen who squealed about Balbinus?' I asked.
    'A donkey's turd called Nonnius.'
    'Not Nonnius Albius? I thought he was a racketeer himself?'
    'He had been. He actually worked with Balbinus, was his chief rent collector. That was what appealed to me.'
    'Of course! You needed an insider.'
    'No one else could have done it. Nonnius was ideal.' 
    'But he was a Balbinus boy. How did you sew him up?' 
    'A sad story.' Petro grinned. 'He's dying. His doctor had just put the frighteners on. Poor old Nonnius is suffering from terminal rot.'
    'Something nasty that people don't talk about?'
    'Same as his profession!' Petro snarled. Then he told me the story: 'Back in the spring, I just happened to learn that Nonnius had been given notice to quit by his pet medicine man - '
    'Happened?' This seemed a nice coincidence.
    Petro was in full flow and not to be sidetracked by my scepticism. 'Nonnius gets informed by some pet Aesculapius that he's finished, but the doctor sap he'll last longer if he takes care of himself - no worries, lots of pampering-'
    'Expensive!' I was beginning to see Petro's reasoning.
    'A life of luxury prescribed! So I get to him when he's just reeling from the bad news, I lend a sympathetic ear, then I put it to him he's spent his life running around for Balbinus while that rat lay on a reading couch counting his winnings - and for what? Now seems the time for a spot of levelling. Since Nonnius has to give up the low life, he soon settles on snatching at the high life to compensate. This appeals to the bastard: taking a litter through the Forum, giving orders to slaves through the window and greeting fawning admirers who are hoping for free gifts. Even more than that, suddenly he loves the idea of robbing Balbinus.'
    I laughed shortly. 'The loyalty of thieves! So he was prepared to testify?'
    'In return for the traditional reward.'
    'You did a deal?'
    'All legal. He appeared before Marponius and twittered like a happy song finch. In return, as a successful prosecutor he can seize a proportion of Balbinus' traceable assets. The only disincentive is that he has to help us trace them. But it's well worth his while to hire accountants. Having been on the money-collecting side himself he knows the occasional fellow with a dodgy abacus, imaginative enough to guess where the loot may be hidden.'
    'I love it!' I was laughing. We both grabbed more wine, which now tasted almost palatable. 'But Petro, you must have needed to take great care framing the actual charge against Balbinus. What did you throw at him?'
    'Murder. The only count that would have worked.' 
    'Of course. It had to be a capital offence.'
    'Anything less and he would only end up with a fine - and however large, a fine wouldn't choke him. He could shed thousands and hardly feel a tickle.'
    I didn't say it, but putting Balbinus in court on any charge that left him free in Rome afterwards would have placed Petro himself in a very dangerous position. There was no point dwelling on this feature. He knew all right. 
    'So who had been topped - and how did you nail Balbinus for the murder?' I didn't suppose he had actually stuck a dagger in someone personally. 'Getting blood spots on his own tunic was never his style.'
    'Happy accident,' said Petro. 'It happened at Plato's Academy.' The brothel we had already mentioned. 'They specialise in fleecing foreign visitors. Some poor Lycian had been set up to lose his travelling pouch in the floor-creeping gag. While the girl was giving him the push-and-shove that he'd paid for, he made the mistake of noticing a rustle in the straw. Up he jumps, and