Recruiting officer. Your lucky day. He comes once in two weeks, Falco." I had not reminded the clerk of my name. Rusticus will find time for you. He's never busy." Rusticus had taken over a cold office, outside which he had hung a slate with a picture of a stick-man and an arrow to say. Enter here. Fresh from Rome, he kept up appearances. He was awake. There was no visible evidence of him eating his lunch or playing board games. He had unpacked a scroll for oaths of allegiance even though he had no one queuing. He would need an officer to witness any enlistment; I guessed he had one on call. Whimsically, he pretended to think I was an applicant. He gave me the open-faced grin of welcome, though I noticed he did not bother to pick up his stylus. He knew perfectly well I had some other errand. At thirty-six, I was too old, for one thing. I had a well-exercised body that had seen too much action for me to volunteer for more. My laundered oatmeal tunic with bilberry braid was a custom fit, my dark curls had been tamed by a half-decent barber, and I had treated myself to a professional bath-house manicure. Even if he failed to notice my firm gaze and tricky attitude, once I stuck my thumbs in my belt he should have seen that it was a damn good belt. Visible on my left hand was a gold equestrian ring. I was a free citizen, and I had been promoted by the Emperor to the middle rank.
The name's Falco. Friend of Petronius Longus." Petro was in the Fourth Cohort. Rusticus must be from another, though not necessarily the Sixth who were currently on duty here. He conceded, Yes, Petronius Longus has supervised enrolments with me."
A good lad."
Seems it. What are you after, Falco?" I sat down on a spare stool. It was lower than his, so nervous recruits would feel vulnerable as they pleaded to join. This basic ploy failed to worry me. I am making official enquiries about a man who has gone missing from a palace secretariat." Although official" was pushing it, the Daily Gazette was a palace mouthpiece and the scribes would pay me from public funds.
I'm surprised they noticed!" Rusticus and I were not friends yet. I thought we would never be. But he took an interest.
Quite. Rusticus, this may be a false lead, but someone has told me my fellow recently tried to join the vigiles. His name is Diocles. If he gave a falsie, of course, I am stuck." Rusticus shrugged, then he leaned back on his stool, arms folded. He made no move towards the scroll in which newly enlisted recruits were formally recorded; he did not even look at it. Diocles? I turned him down." Obviously nobody much was rushing to join up in Ostia. I kept that to myself. Can you recall the circumstances?" He pursed his lips. He could not resist playing with an informer. I do remember, because unless he only has one leg, no, we took a Moesian amputee once, and he hopped around brilliantly, until he fell through a floor, turning one down is a rarity."
Something not right about him?" Rusticus took his time again. Diocles. Thin fellow. Unobtrusive sort of maggot. He trotted in, and he had all the patter. Had been a slave but was manumitted. Had forgotten to bring his certificate, but would be able to produce it. Wanted a new life, with a chance of citizenship and the corn dole. Even said he wanted to serve the Empire. Some of them regard being a patriot as a recommendation, though personally I find it more natural if they are trying to get free dinner and fun with flames." A cynic. I grinned my appreciation. Maybe he warmed up slightly. Or not. I decided he was just an unpleasant bastard.
Was he too old?"
I think he said thirty-eight. Not too far gone if they are tough."
So why did you reject him?"
No idea." Rusticus thought about it, as if amazed at himself. Palace secretariat, you say? Fits. His Latin was a touch too nice. But it was instinct on my part. Always trust instinct, Falco." I said nothing. Instinct can be a fickle friend. That significant feeling" often only means your last night's dinner has played up, or you're getting a cold sore. The recruitment officer leaned forwards suddenly. So what is the bastard? Special bloody audit?" I laughed. He thought Diocles was investigating the vigiles, some corruption enquiry. You're not far out. He's Infamia." Wasted. The vigiles never keep up with the news. He writes the scandal section of the Daily Gazette." I was taking a chance; Rusticus might now close ranks and clam up. But as a recruiter, I reasoned that he was a half-day visitor, not bonded with the Sixth. So," I said, lowering my voice, do we conclude that someone in the current detachment is thought to need scrutiny, in the public interest?" There could be a number of reasons. Swiping funds. Having perverts for playmates. Blatant inefficiency… Wrong. inefficiency does not make exciting news.
A skirt?" asked Rusticus, looking keen as he thought up his own ideas. No, sleeping around is allowed! The wrong skirt."
