Time to Depart (35 page)

LXIX

Something crashed against the window. From far away across the street I could hear shouts. Wiping and sheathing my sword, I staggered to the sill. On the opposite side of the lane, which was fortunately narrow, the vigiles had somehow raised a ladder, balancing it precariously on a balcony parapet their side and lowering one end to where I was. If I could find the courage, I could now crawl to safety across the full width of Fountain Court. It was no time for debate. Fire was sweeping through the apartment behind me. I took off and threw out my slippers (which had been quite expensive), then I checked that my end of the ladder was stable and set off for the other side.

I made it. Let's leave it at that. There is only one way to scramble for your life across a bowing wooden ladder two storeys above the ground, and it has to be undignified. The moment when Petronius leant out from the opposite balcony and grabbed me was one of the best of my life.

We exchanged glances. Petronius saw there was blood on my tunic, but that I had no visible wounds.

'Where's the crone you went to rescue?'

'I stuck my sword in her.' He did not ask why. I think he guessed. 'It was Balbinus.'

'That's the last time I work with you. You've stolen my case!'

'I owe you one,' I acknowledged.

'Tell me he's dead. I want to hear the words.'

'He's dead,' I answered, seeing it again. Then I was sick. The vigiles blamed the smoke.

With arms across each other's shoulders, Petro and I staggered down to street level. In the lane we discovered Helena, clutching my discarded slippers. She must have watched my feat with the ladder. Just as well I didn't know. Helena was white and trembling, but she managed to sound cheerful: 'Bad news, I'm afraid. In the confusion poor Lenia lost track of her wedding presents and some rotter's swiped the lot.'

Well there you are. That's Rome all over. Organised crime never lies down for long.

Time for someone to compose a petition to the enquiry chief of the vigiles.