Falco 02 - Shadows in Bronze by Lindsey Davis

Author:Lindsey Davis
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-04-11T16:59:20.741000+00:00

`Yes I heard he was cut up. What about these two?

'Maybe he regretted it later. Ferox and the Sweetheart were sent to him from Rome.' I knew about that. When we cleared out the house on the Quirinal we found bills of sale for these two in Marcellus' name. I never saw the animals but I had signed the chitty for their transfer home myself. `So what's your interest, Falco?' Bryon eontinued. He seemed friendly, but I could tell he was sceptical.

`You know Barnabas?'

'I used to,' he answered, without committing himself.

'I've got some cash that belongs to him. Has he put in an appearance here lately?' Bryon looked at me, then shrugged. `I reckon,' I pressed on with a warning note, `you would certainly have seen him - in view of the horses.'

Perhaps . . . In view of the horses!' He agreed the hypothesis without giving an inch. `If I do see him, I'll tell him that you came.'

I fended off Little Sweetheart, who was nuzzling insistently, and pretended to change the subject. `Things seem quiet round here for a villa on Vesuvius in summer. Is no one staying at the house?'

`Only the family,' Bryon informed me in his straight-faced, stony way.

`And the young lady?'

'Oh she's one of them!'

This trainer had a shrewd idea I was someone without authority; he drew me firmly out of doors and began to walk me to the house. As we went by the livery stables I made sure I scanned every stall. Bryon finally lost patience with our good-mannered pretence. 'If you tell me what you're looking for, Falco, I'll tell you if we have it here!'

I grinned, unabashed. I was lookmg for the two horses that had followed me from Rome to Croton - not to mention their mystery rider, whom I deduced had been Barnabas.

'Try this then: two top-quality riding nags - a big roan that looks as if he was bred for the racetrack but just missed, and a squatter skewbald packhorse-'

'No,' Bryon said tersely.

He was right; they were not here. Yet the abruptness of his answer convmced me that at some time he had seen the two I meant.

He marched me back to the colonnade then backed oft seeming both disappointed and relieved as Helena Justina, the young lady who was one of the family, greeted me with her sleepy, unperturbed smile.

XLVII

When I strode back to Helena with my happy harpist's whistle, she had just been joined by her father-in-law. Making no reference to the retreating horse trainer, I apologized for my presence as I gave Caprenius Marcellus a vague explanation of events: 'I ran across Helena Justina, with a touch of the sun . .

The arrival of Marcellus put an end to my exploring. There was no help for it; I took my departure formally, with a calm nod to her ladyship-all I could do to answer the question in her dark, deeply inquisitive brown eyes.

Marcellus must have found my story easy to believe. Helena looked completely drained. I felt she needed more than a rest under a rug and a hot drink.

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