Ode To A Banker by Lindsey Davis Page B

the library all up his backside, but that was because his feet had slipped from under him on the oil in there and he landed in the stuff; it's clear he has not been in a fight. Those with blood on their footwear match those who admitted they went in to gawp.'

    'Arms and legs?'

    'Clean.'

    'Untoward bruising? Signs of a tussle?'

    'Nothing new. A few bangs and cuts. All readily explained as natural wear and tear.' In most households a survey of the slaves would produce a fair set of black eyes, cuts, burns, knocks and sores.

    'What do they say about the way they are handled here?'

    'Routine. Smacked ears for making themselves unpopular, meagre servings in their food-bowls, hard beds, not enough women to go round.'

    'So the slaves are affectionately-treated adjuncts to a normal family?'
    'Model behaviour by the paterfamilias.'

    'Did he extract sexual favours?'

    'Probably. Nobody mentioned it.'

    So far, this was not helping. 'I am still unclear how the alarm spread to the street,' I said. That niggled me. 'Who was it who ran out of the house making a noise?'

    'I did!' announced a woman's voice.

    We turned around and looked her up and down, which was what her rich dress and finely applied cosmetics intended us to do. Fusculus leaned one fist against his hip, considering this vision. Passus pursed his lips, not letting on whether he liked what he saw or thought the effect too flash.

    'Ah! Now we're getting somewhere, boys!' I cried. It was a waggish response, which was possibly ill-mannered - but instinct told me to do it, even though this looked like the mistress of the house.

XIII

    SHE WAS a good-looking piece. She knew all about it too. She did have a mouth so wide it looked as if it ran past her ears and met behind her head, but that was part of her style. The style was also extremely expensive. She wanted everyone to notice that.

    The wide, red-dyed mouth was not smiling. The voice that had come from it was somehow slightly uncultured, yet I would have placed her social origins as Roman, and higher than those of Chrysippus. The dark eyes that went with the mouth and the voice were too close together for me, but men with less demanding tastes would have thought them appealing, and much had been made of them with plucked brows, deep outlines and startling tinted pastes. They had a hard expression, but so what? Women in the Thirteenth Sector were prone to that. According to the ones I knew, it was caused by men.

    This was a young, confident female who had oodles of money and time on her hands. She thought that made her something special. For most peoples it would have done. I was old-fashioned. I liked women with a dash of moral fibre; well, women whose flirting was honest, anyway.

    'And who are you?' I kept it level, not admitting whether I was impressed by the externals. Fusculus and Passus were watching how I handled this. I could have managed better without their open curiosity, but I knew I had to show them my quality. I was up to it. Well, probably. Helena Justina would have recommended that I handle this beauty with tongs, from behind a fireproof shield.

    'Vibia Merulla '

    'Lady of the house?'

    'Correct. Chrysippus' wife.' Perhaps this was slightly too emphatic.
    'And dear light of his life?' I made it gallant, if she chose to take my wry tone that way.
    'Certainly.' The wide mouth set in a straight line.

    I saw no reason to doubt her, actually. He must have been approaching sixty; she was in her late twenties. He was an unprepossessing squit and she was a spanking little artefact. It fitted. Married for a couple of years now, and both parties still pretending to like the situation, I would guess. Standing in their luxurious home and inspecting the ranks of jewelled necklaces that burdened a fine bosom, I could imagine what might have been in it for her, while that half- revealed bust hinted at what had been in it for him.

    Nevertheless, it is always worth pressing the questions. 'Were you happy