Читать книгу A Question of Time - Jamie Ashbird - Страница 11

‘Gaius Arturus, welcome.’

The man hesitated in the darkened doorway.

‘Enter. Despite rumours there are no vengeful spirits here, I’ve not angered the gods. It is impossible to anger something that doesn’t exist.’

Gaius gasped, horrified. He staggered out and ran back down the road.

Soft footsteps entered the dark room, a bowl of fresh berries was clunked onto the table.

‘Who was that?’

A languid hand flapped, barely illuminated by the light from the doorway.

‘Pah, no one. A ghost, Johannes.’

Johannes tutted and fussed, opening up the shuttered window. ‘That better not have been a client. We’re down to our last five sestertii.’

He turned around. ‘Oh for– It’s high noon, put some clothes on. You’re indecent,’ he said, with absolutely no conviction.

An utterly bare Sherlock rolled over on his couch. One bent leg slowly followed the other to expose everything to Johannes.

‘First, that man has lost his prized fighting dog – I’d rather help a murderer.

‘Second, I have a denarius or two squirrelled away, and third,’ Sherlock ran his fingers in an airy light pitter patter from hips to collarbones, ‘my clothes are itchy.’

Johannes drew closer, pulled by an invisible thread.

‘And to think you Romans call us uncivilised.’

Sherlock’s face split into an enormous grin. ‘Then what are you waiting for? Invade me, you barbarian.’