'Cut the niceties!' It was my usual rebuttal. I pretended he had a secret admiration for my roguishly uncouth manner. He simply gazed at me with that air of constant wonder. `Listen, you evil scourge -' He bravely ignored the fake affection. `I need inside information.'
`Fiscal advice? Or investment tips?'
`Neither. I'm not here to be pillaged.'
Nothokleptes shook his head sadly. `Marcus Didius, I long for the day you will tell me you have become a quaestuosus.'
`What – an upcoming new man, looking to get rich quick? I'm rich now!'
He harumphed loudly. `Not by the world's standards.'
`You mean I should let you play dangerous games with my cash for your own profit?'
`Typical!' he groaned. `This is Rome, of course. You are cautious men. The good Roman guards his patrimony, looking only for security, never profits.'
I squatted on the stool next to him, while his barber continued to ministrate fanatically to the oiled Pharaonic curls. `That's about it; in Rome, the higher a man progresses up the social scale, the more commitments are thrust upon him and the less free he really is to spend his money.. I'm promising nothing, but I do have a case with probable fees at the end of it. Have you heard of Aurelius Chrysippus??
'I have heard that he's dead.' Nothokleptes had glanced at me sharply. He knew the kind of work I did.
`Everyone here in the Porticus is no doubt avid for details?' My banker inclined his head elegantly. At the same time, he pursed his fleshy lips as if chastising my crude insinuation. `What can you tell me about him and his business?'
`Me, Falco? Assist you? In one of your enquiries? When he was excited, his voice rose and he tended to speak in an affected manner that drove me mad.
`Yes. He died in a rather sensational manner. You may have heard that I am investigating?
He waved his hand. `This is the Forum! The very stones breathe rumour. I probably knew before.you did.'
`You make me wonder if you knew Chrysippus was doomed before the man was even dead.'
`Tasteless, my friend!'
`Sorry. So what's the score?'
Nothokleptes was torn. Professional wariness warned him to clam up. But he was thrilled to be so close to a celebrated case. `Is it true -' he began.
I cut him off. `He had a scroll rod poked up his nose. But I never told you that.'
He hissed with dread. `Dreadful! Was there a lot of blood? I gazed at him, not saying.
`Ooh, Falco! Well…' He lowered his. voice. We had a bargain, apparently. Horror was just another banking commodity; he was prepared to trade. `What do you want to know?' I glanced at the barber. The man was impassively snipping at a long ear lock. `Don't worry; he does not speak Latin.'
Unlikely, but Nothokleptes would secure his silence. `I need anything you can give me, Nothokleptes. Especially if it's scandalous.'
Nothokleptes appeared to find a new respect for my trade if it could be so much fun. `I have never heard much that's juicy. He has been here for years. There is a fearsome wife, who has a hand in everything.'
`Divorced.'
His eyebrows shot up. `You really do surprise me!'
`Another woman – half his age. Now the other is the second wife. Why are you surprised by that?'
`There were always other women. Stagey blondes who looked like night-moths, mostly. Lysa would find out, then sweep in and chop off the affair. Chrysippus would sob and be a chaste husband for a while. Lysa would relent and loosen the shackles. Pretty soon, he would find himself some new working girl who giggled and flattered him at how clever he was with his abacus. After they were spotted in one theatre row too many, Lysa would descend on him again with a face like Jove's thunderbolt and a similar effect.'
`Did she never threaten to leave him?'
`She was the wife. It didn't work like that.' Nothokleptes tipped his head to one side, nearly sacrificing a ringlet to curiosity. Impassive, the barber waited until he straightened up again. `So how did the new one finally shift Lysa out?'
`Vibia Merulla is not a working hag.'
`Oh clever!'
'She is not his usual blonde either, incidentally,' I said, half-hiding a smile.
`Fascinating!'
`Well, I can untwine the tangle with the women.'
`Your favourite occupation, Falco.'
`I've had enough practice, maybe. Tell me about the bank.'
`It's Greek.'
`A trapeza. So they take deposits -'
`And they offer credit. What we call an argentarius.'
`Same as you?'
`Subtle differences,' Nothokleptes prevaricated cagily. I was not surprised. The financial world is complex, with the services offered often varying according to the status and needs of the customer. I mean, the big fish get most out of it. `To my mind, Greek changing and lending began with temples helping out travellers at religious festivals,' Nothokleptes said. `In Rome we were always more geared to commerce. Quayside auctions -'
`Auctions! You mean art and antiques?' I asked in surprise, thinking of Pa.
He looked disgusted. `Commodity auctions at markets and ports.'
