needs in exchange for a coin.
They broke off when they became aware of her presence, exchanged glances, and Claudia recognized the woman as the stony-faced old boiler she’d bumped into earlier, after her countdown with Orbilio. Worse, the harridan was bearing down like a trireme in full sail.
‘Forgive my impertinence.’ Stoneyface daren’t smile for fear of cracking the mask and the voice went with the eyes. ‘But that robe is simply sublime. Might I trouble you for the name of your seamstress?’
Her hair had been dyed with the juice of walnuts, her complexion was not holding up well, yet, despite rising to every cosmetic challenge with her plucked and painted eyebrows and the plethora of moleskin patches plastered over her liver spots, she still played up her little snub nose as though it were some girlish attribute by sticking it high in the air. Sad, really. Deluded cow thought she turned heads, but in practice it was stomachs she turned.
‘Oh, you know Atlantis,’ Claudia quipped, speeding up to escape the frightful creature. ‘Everything’s done for you round here.’
‘Off the peg?’ A variety of expressions skated across the plasterwork of her face, and hard eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Then I’d be obliged if you’d point out the shop.’
Behind her, Kamar was hopping from one foot to the other. Cramp? Or agitation?
‘First on the left past the basilica,’ Claudia invented. Anything to break free of this ghastly woman’s clutches. What a horror. In the corridor, her mind skipped back to Cal’s funeral, to the freckle-faced girl rolling the hoop. Would she, one day, become a hard-eyed ravaged harpy, hankering for her old salad days? Skulking round at night to consult a physician? Perish the thought! But the point was, that child should have the choice.
Within the dark seclusion of her bedroom, Claudia kicked off her sandals. First she must establish the motive for Cal’s murder. Only through that could she unmask the killer, and then maybe—just maybe—she’d have something to trade with Orbilio when it came (as it would) to discussing Sabbio Tullus…
Outside frogs croaked to one another and an owl hooted far across the lake as she collapsed on the bed. Somewhere, just before sleep and exhaustion overwhelmed her, she thought she heard a woman scream.
*
Dawn was casting silver shadows on the bath house’s limestone walls and a coil of blue woodsmoke writhed up from its vent as the agent of Sabbio Tullus pursed his lips and estimated that any time within the next half-hour his message would be arriving in Rome. Dispatch runners cared not a jot that they travelled through the night, money was money, and let me see, ten miles per runner, ten runners—yup, the last one should be arriving very soon. Very soon. Delving into his satchel, to deliver a sealed and secret letter to Rome. A letter which read: ‘The jewel that you are seeking, master, has been discovered in Atlantis.’
Now that, thought Tullus’ agent, rubbing his hands with satisfaction, should earn a fat reward.
One which would not, however, come from the treasure chests of Sabbio Tullus.
The letter was winging its way to the nephew.
*
Claudia was whistling when she waltzed into breakfast, though since the hour was late, only a few diehards remained at the trough. That loudmouthed general, for one, the chap whose paunch stuck out like a packmule, and the woman who walked like a camel, right now gulping down the general’s raisin troops the instant he’d positioned them on the flank. Lounging on a couch in the corner, a famous wrestler—a dapper dandy with the body of an ox—recounted exploits to a dull-eyed nymphet, who’d patently prefer just to go to his room and get it over with. It was a screw he was paying for, not a bore.
Which left one other individual in the banqueting hall. And Claudia had a feeling he’d been there some time.
Sweeping past, she plumped down on a couch close to the sun porch with a fine
They broke off when they became aware of her presence, exchanged glances, and Claudia recognized the woman as the stony-faced old boiler she’d bumped into earlier, after her countdown with Orbilio. Worse, the harridan was bearing down like a trireme in full sail.
‘Forgive my impertinence.’ Stoneyface daren’t smile for fear of cracking the mask and the voice went with the eyes. ‘But that robe is simply sublime. Might I trouble you for the name of your seamstress?’
Her hair had been dyed with the juice of walnuts, her complexion was not holding up well, yet, despite rising to every cosmetic challenge with her plucked and painted eyebrows and the plethora of moleskin patches plastered over her liver spots, she still played up her little snub nose as though it were some girlish attribute by sticking it high in the air. Sad, really. Deluded cow thought she turned heads, but in practice it was stomachs she turned.
‘Oh, you know Atlantis,’ Claudia quipped, speeding up to escape the frightful creature. ‘Everything’s done for you round here.’
‘Off the peg?’ A variety of expressions skated across the plasterwork of her face, and hard eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Then I’d be obliged if you’d point out the shop.’
Behind her, Kamar was hopping from one foot to the other. Cramp? Or agitation?
‘First on the left past the basilica,’ Claudia invented. Anything to break free of this ghastly woman’s clutches. What a horror. In the corridor, her mind skipped back to Cal’s funeral, to the freckle-faced girl rolling the hoop. Would she, one day, become a hard-eyed ravaged harpy, hankering for her old salad days? Skulking round at night to consult a physician? Perish the thought! But the point was, that child should have the choice.
Within the dark seclusion of her bedroom, Claudia kicked off her sandals. First she must establish the motive for Cal’s murder. Only through that could she unmask the killer, and then maybe—just maybe—she’d have something to trade with Orbilio when it came (as it would) to discussing Sabbio Tullus…
Outside frogs croaked to one another and an owl hooted far across the lake as she collapsed on the bed. Somewhere, just before sleep and exhaustion overwhelmed her, she thought she heard a woman scream.
*
Dawn was casting silver shadows on the bath house’s limestone walls and a coil of blue woodsmoke writhed up from its vent as the agent of Sabbio Tullus pursed his lips and estimated that any time within the next half-hour his message would be arriving in Rome. Dispatch runners cared not a jot that they travelled through the night, money was money, and let me see, ten miles per runner, ten runners—yup, the last one should be arriving very soon. Very soon. Delving into his satchel, to deliver a sealed and secret letter to Rome. A letter which read: ‘The jewel that you are seeking, master, has been discovered in Atlantis.’
Now that, thought Tullus’ agent, rubbing his hands with satisfaction, should earn a fat reward.
One which would not, however, come from the treasure chests of Sabbio Tullus.
The letter was winging its way to the nephew.
*
Claudia was whistling when she waltzed into breakfast, though since the hour was late, only a few diehards remained at the trough. That loudmouthed general, for one, the chap whose paunch stuck out like a packmule, and the woman who walked like a camel, right now gulping down the general’s raisin troops the instant he’d positioned them on the flank. Lounging on a couch in the corner, a famous wrestler—a dapper dandy with the body of an ox—recounted exploits to a dull-eyed nymphet, who’d patently prefer just to go to his room and get it over with. It was a screw he was paying for, not a bore.
Which left one other individual in the banqueting hall. And Claudia had a feeling he’d been there some time.
Sweeping past, she plumped down on a couch close to the sun porch with a fine
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