'There is one other thing I overheard, Didius Falco. I heard Theon give a warning to the old man: ''Take my advice and keep quiet. Not because these matters should be concealed - indeed, they should not, and I have tried to correct things. But whoever drops the white handkerchief to start this race, Nibytas my friend, needs to be a brave man. Whoever speaks out will be placing himself in the gravest danger.'' ''Take my advice and keep quiet. Not because these matters should be concealed - indeed, they should not, and I have tried to correct things. But whoever drops the white handkerchief to start this race, Nibytas my friend, needs to be a brave man. Whoever speaks out will be placing himself in the gravest danger.'' Falco, I cannot help remembering,' Pastous ended quietly, 'that both of the men who had that conversation are now dead.' Falco, I cannot help remembering,' Pastous ended quietly, 'that both of the men who had that conversation are now dead.'

We had a fine meal. I said afterwards, the proprietor must have been the library a.s.sistant's cousin, giving us special treatment.

'No Falco; I am not specially known here,' Pastous replied seriously.

XLII.

I handed Aulus cash to settle up for lunch, and led Pastous aside. 'Be very careful. Theon was right: speaking out against your superiors is always risky. I am very unhappy about what we are dealing with here.'

If this Diogenes was involved in murky business, aided and encouraged by the Museion Director, and if both Theon and Nibytas had found out, that would explain much. Bad feeling, at the very least. But Philetus could well claim that as Director he had full authority to sell off scrolls if, in his judgement, they were no longer required. Who had the power to overrule him? Probably only the Emperor, and he was too far away.

What was going on might be no more than sleazy. Philetus might be turfing out work by writers he personally hated, discredited material, outdated books that would never be looked at again. He might well call this routine housekeeping. Any difference of opinion on the philosophy behind it could resolve itself when they appointed a new Librarian. In any case, if weeding out works was decided to be more than just unorthodox, if it was deemed to be wrong, then Vespasian could issue a directive that no scrolls held at the Great Library were ever to be sold. Only one thing deterred me from making such a recommendation at once: the famously stingy Vespasian might like the idea. He was more likely to insist scrolls were sold in large numbers, with the money raised all sent to him in Rome.

It could be a.s.sumed that if Philetus really was selling off scrolls to Diogenes, the income was used for the overall benefit of the Museion or the Library. But if Philetus was removing books on the sly and taking the money himself, that was different. It was theft, no question.

n.o.body had suggested that. n.o.body had given me any proof of it either. But perhaps it never crossed their minds that a Director could do such a thing.

There could be worse. Trouble about the scroll-selling could have led to foul play. We had two recent deaths at the Library. I would need the strongest kind of evidence to suggest a scroll fraud had caused them. Most people would guffaw at it. To proceed on my suspicions would mean going over the head of the Director, since he appeared to be involved. That meant taking matters to the Roman Prefect.

I was not stupid. Unless I found proof, it was out of the question.

I made Pastous promise simply to observe. If he saw Diogenes in the Great Library, he was quickly to alert Aulus or me. If the Director appeared again, Pastous was to watch surrept.i.tiously what Philetus was doing, keeping a record of scrolls he asked to see.

Aulus and Pastous went off to finish reading the old man's doc.u.ments. I took Helena home to my uncle's house. I wanted to discuss with her, alone, the other aspect of this story: Diogenes was connected to Uncle Fulvius.

'If Diogenes is a trader,' Helena mused, 'he could be involved in all sorts of commerce with numerous people. It doesn't follow that what he is doing at the Library also involves your uncle.'

'No, and the sun never sets in the west.'

'Marcus, we could ask Fulvius about it.'

'The trouble with Fulvius is that even if he is completely innocent, he will give us a tricky answer on principle. And what am I to do, love, if I find out there is a scam - and a member of my own family is in it? Possibly more than one member.'

'You are thinking of Ca.s.sius?'

'No,' I said grimly. 'I meant Pa.'

All three were out when we arrived home. That saved me having to tackle them.

When they rolled in, we could tell they had all been at a very very extended business lunch. We could hear them coming even before they wove unsteadily into the outer courtyard. Crossing it took about half an hour from when they staggered in through the gateway telling the porter that they loved him. All of them were extravagantly good-humoured, but almost incomprehensible. I had given myself the task of interrogating three elderly degenerates who had lost all reason, plus any semblance of manners or bladder control. We would be lucky if none of them suffered a stroke or a heart attack; even more lucky if no irate neighbours came to complain. extended business lunch. We could hear them coming even before they wove unsteadily into the outer courtyard. Crossing it took about half an hour from when they staggered in through the gateway telling the porter that they loved him. All of them were extravagantly good-humoured, but almost incomprehensible. I had given myself the task of interrogating three elderly degenerates who had lost all reason, plus any semblance of manners or bladder control. We would be lucky if none of them suffered a stroke or a heart attack; even more lucky if no irate neighbours came to complain.

What do pensioners do for vandalism? Write graffiti on a Temple of Isis in very neat Greek? Untie a row of donkeys then put them all back in the wrong places? Chase a great-granny up the street, threatening to give her a little kiss if they catch her?

Pa was in the lead. He took a run at the stairs and managed to propel himself as far as the salon. He aimed at a couch, missed, landed face down on a pile of cushions and immediately fell asleep. Helena insisted we turned him on his side lest he suffocate. I poked him hard, just to be sure his sleep was genuine. For me, he could choke.

Fulvius stumbled and fell down as he came up the stairs. This made him even more woozy, and there was a chance he had broken his leg, which had twisted awkwardly beneath him. Ca.s.sius spent a long time trying to get Fulvius first to their bedroom and then into, or at least on to, the bed. Fulvius was cursing and being unhelpful. Ca.s.sius was cursing back and, I think, weeping mildly. Various household slaves were watching goggle-eyed from doorways, always dodging out of sight the minute anyone invited them to lend a.s.sistance. I offered. Either n.o.body heard me in the kerfuffle, or n.o.body was capable of taking in what anybody else said.

I removed to the roof with my family. We read Aesop's Fables to the children. Eventually we ran out of fables and just enjoyed the sun's last evening rays.

Ca.s.sius had been, perhaps, the least intoxicated. Eventually, he joined us up there. He burbled a few apologies, interspersed with momentary snores. Somehow he got himself on to a daybed, while we all watched in silence.

I walked downstairs. Fulvius and Pa were alive, but completely out of it. I rooted out the staff and politely requested a meal for those of us who were able to eat.

Back on the roof, I sized up Ca.s.sius and decided he at least could answer questions. 'Good lunch?'

'Ex-cell-ent!' He was so impressed with his enunciation, he continued to say the same thing several times. He was so impressed with his enunciation, he continued to say the same thing several times.

'Yes, I think we can see that.. .Were you with that trader, Diogenes?'

Ca.s.sius squinted at me, though he was not in the sun. 'Diogenes?' he mumbled Wearily.

'I heard Fulvius knows him.'

'Ooh, Marcus...' Ca.s.sius was wagging his finger at me, as if he knew even through the drink that I had asked something forbidden. The finger wavered wildly, until he poked himself in the eye. Helena gathered up the children (who were fascinated by the extraordinary adult behaviour) and moved with them to the furthermost part of the roof terrace. Though she could be a disapproving little piece, Albia stayed with me. 'Have to ask Fulvius about that!' that!' decreed Ca.s.sius, when he finished wiping his watering eye on his arm. decreed Ca.s.sius, when he finished wiping his watering eye on his arm.

'Yes, I will ... So did Diogenes give Fulvius a good deal then?'

'Ex-cell-ent!' answered Ca.s.sius. Too late, he realised his mistake. answered Ca.s.sius. Too late, he realised his mistake.

Albia looked at me and shuddered. She was right. This was dire -the sight of a man in his fifties, hunching up and hiding his face behind his fingers while he giggled at us like a guilty schoolboy.

XLIII.

Far be it from me to be self-righteous. The fact was, every generation hates the others to have fun. Human nature makes us deplore bad behaviour in the young - but bad behaviour in the old is just as grim. It was clear I would never get much sense from any of this intoxicated trio that evening, and by tomorrow, if they survived and started to sober up, they were unlikely to remember who they had been entertaining - or who had been entertaining them - let alone what anyone had said or what agreement they shook hands on.

If I could persuade them to back out of the deal, that might be just as well.

The rest of us had a subdued evening, as tends to happen when half a household has had a great adventure and the other half has not. I went to bed early. We all did. The girls were so good, Uncle Fulvius would be sorry to have missed it.

Next morning, Helena and I woke gently, entwined in love but wary about what the day might bring. My family ate breakfast together, Helena and I, our daughters and Albia. There was no sign of our elders. Even if they had begun to come round and realised that a new dawn had broken, daylight would hurt, recollection would be fleeting and troublesome. If they had all come round, they probably decided to keep out of the way until they could compare notes. I had no doubt they would be unrepentant.

Helena said she would take the girls out sightseeing. She would come home after lunch, to check on the debauchees, see if medical attention was required and try to get sense out of them.

'You are a martyr to goodness.'

'I am a Roman matron.'

'She will give them a strong dressing-down,' suggested Albia, hopefully.

I grinned. 'You can be there to watch, so you will know how to do it yourself, one day.'

'I shall avoid sharing my house with wicked old men, Marcus Didius.'

'Don't say that. You never know what Fortune will dump on you.'

'I can handle Fortune. Are you going to see Aulus?'

'If Aulus is where I am going, I shall see him, certainly'

'You have to make a riddle out of everything.'

'So where exactly are you going, Marcus?' put in Helena.

I told her I was starting at the Library. This business with the scrolls seemed the most profitable line to pursue. The episode with the crocodile seemed unconnected, probably just a domestic tiff gone hideously wrong. I said I expected to be home early, hoping to grill Fulvius and Pa about their involvement with Diogenes. But a lot was about to happen before I made good that promise.

Helena thought events could be turning nasty; she wanted me to take a sword. I refused that, but I sharpened my knife to please her.

As I left the house, the muttering man leapt to his feet but I pa.s.sed by him with an angry face and left him trailing. He dogged my footsteps, but I kept going. I stared ahead, and although for a while I fancied he had stayed behind me, by the time I reached the Museion I saw no more of him.

Pastous was in the Library, but not Aulus.

'Have you finished up?'

'Yes, Falco. There was nothing more of interest among the doc.u.ments. In among the last batch we sorted, we found this.' He held up an object. 'It is the key to the Librarian's room.' There was nothing more of interest among the doc.u.ments. In among the last batch we sorted, we found this.' He held up an object. 'It is the key to the Librarian's room.'

The lock had now been replaced but the diligent Pastous had rooted out the broken one. The key was portable, though heavy - made of bra.s.s, with a sphinx decoration. I tried it. Despite the damage to the lock, it turned in both directions. According to the a.s.sistant, Theon had found the key too c.u.mbersome to carry about with him except when he left the building. When he was in attendance at the Library, he hung it outside the room on a discreet hook.

'So if he was working in his room, anyone could have come along and locked him in?'

'Why would they do that?' asked Pastous, who was something of a literalist. He had a point. 'But it was the Librarian's key - Nibytas should never have had it.' He looked troubled. 'Falco, does this mean that the old man may have killed Theon?'

I pursed my lips. 'As you just said - why would he do that? Tell me, when you overheard them arguing that time, did it sound as though Nibytas was very angry - so angry he might come back late at night and attack Theon?'

'Not at all. He went off grumbling to himself, but that was normal. We often had complaints from other readers that Nibytas made a noise, talking to himself. That was why he had been given a table at the far end of the room.' He went off grumbling to himself, but that was normal. We often had complaints from other readers that Nibytas made a noise, talking to himself. That was why he had been given a table at the far end of the room.'

'Old men do mumble.'

'Unfortunately, Nibytas gave the impression he was annoying on purpose.'

'Ah, old men do that too.'

I asked where Aulus had gone. Pastous' face clouded. As usual, he seemed ill-inclined to gossip, but concern drew the story out of him. 'A man came. Camillus was with me at the time. It was Hermias, the father of Heras, the young man who died in the zoo. Hermias has come to Alexandria to learn what happened to his son. He was extremely upset.'

'No doubt!'' I hoped the Director had had the sense to have the remains rapidly cremated, Roman-style. Philetus had told me he would write to the family in Naukratis, which was just under fifty miles to the south. The messenger must have travelled at speed; the father had dropped everything and rushed here just as fast, no doubt spurred by grief, anger and raging questions. I hoped the Director had had the sense to have the remains rapidly cremated, Roman-style. Philetus had told me he would write to the family in Naukratis, which was just under fifty miles to the south. The messenger must have travelled at speed; the father had dropped everything and rushed here just as fast, no doubt spurred by grief, anger and raging questions.

'Plenty of young men are grabbed by crocodiles along the Nile,' sighed Pastous, 'but the distraught father realises this should have been preventable.'

'Aulus and Heras had been friends, briefly. So did Aulus talk to the father?'

'Yes, I suggested they went into the Librarian's empty room. They were there a long time. I could hear Camillus Aelia.n.u.s speaking quietly and kindly. The father was highly agitated when he arrived; Aulus must have calmed him. He is so impressive -' Aulus? Aulus? I would like to tell Helena that strong verdict on her brother. 'When they came out, the father looked at least more resigned.' I would like to tell Helena that strong verdict on her brother. 'When they came out, the father looked at least more resigned.'

'I hope Camillus did not reveal why Heras was there that night.'

'You mean Roxana? No, but after the father left, Aulus told me.' Pastous wore his anxious expression again. 'I hope you are not angry, Falco - Camillus Aelia.n.u.s is a grown man. He makes his own decisions -'

Now I was nervous. 'He is an idiot sometimes... Cough up -what has Aulus Camillus done?'

'He has gone to see the woman,' said Pastous.

'Oh no! He has taken Hermias to her?' He has taken Hermias to her?'

'He is not that much of an idiot, Falco.'

This was far worse. 'He has gone on his own?' 'He has gone on his own?'

Pastous looked demure. 'I do not visit such a person. Besides, I am on duty now. I cannot leave the Library'

XLIV.

Finding Roxana's house again took a long while. The anonymity of her street and her building had me running around in circles. I kept asking directions from bemused locals, who were either deliberately awkward or failed to understand either my imperial Latin or my polite Greek. Everyone here spoke Alexandrian Greek, a b.a.s.t.a.r.d version that was heavily accented with Egyptian vowels and peppered with dialect vocabulary; they pretended not to understand the standard p.r.o.nunciation that is beloved of Roman teachers. I was wary of using Latin; people could be hostile.

Everywhere looked the same: narrow streets with occasional little shops or artisan premises, street stalls, blank-walled houses. There seemed to be no distinguishing street furniture, no fountains, no statues. I rushed into two wrong apartments, frightening several groups of women, before I found the right place. It took so long, that by the time I was standing outside Roxana's place, wondering just what to say, Aulus walked out.

When he saw me he reddened. Bad news. I tried to pretend I had not noticed. I felt a deep need to discuss this situation with my best friend Petronius Longus, back home, safe in Rome. I would once have said, discuss it over a large drink, but the behaviour of my supposedly mature a.s.sociates last night put me off that.

'Greetings, Aulus Camillus!' Delaying tactics.

'Greetings, Marcus Didius.' He seemed calm.

'If you have been to see Roxana, we shall need a heart-to-heart.'

'Why not?- A bar?'

'No thanks.' I might never drink again. 'I am suffering from a monumental hangover, in triplicate - not mine. I'll tell you later about that.'

Aulus raised his eyebrows gently. We chose a tiny caupona and ordered bread and goat's cheese. He asked for a beaker of fruit juice. I said I would manage with water. Even the waiter seemed surprised. He wiped the desert dust off a bench for us and brought us a complimentary dish of gherkins.

'So - tell me about Roxana, Aulus.'

'Don't look like that. There is nothing you need report to my mother.'

'It's your sister I'm scared of.' I bit in half one of the gherkins. They were so wizened I knew why the waiter was giving them away. I wondered how much Aulus knew about the time I was held responsible for their younger brother, Justinus falling in love ill-advisedly when we were out in Germany.

'Nothing to tell my sister either.'

The bread came.

'That's good. So the amorous Roxana did not try to seduce you -'

A slow grin crept across Aulus' face. It was rather unlike him. 'She tried.'

My heart sank. 't.i.tan's t.u.r.ds! - as my horrible father -would say. I do hope you rebuffed her boldly?'