'Paccius was bound to turn on you.'

'Actually, my accuser works with Silius.'

'- who works with Paccius! By the way, Falco, do you know you have people watching this place?'

He was right. I took a squint through a crack in the shutters. A couple of shady characters in b.u.m-starver cloaks and woollen caps were lurking on the Embankment outside. It was too cold for them to be fishing in the Tiber. Incompetent burglars who were casing a house too openly? Clerks who wrote the Daily Gazette scandal page? Sidekicks of Silius, hoping to witness me march up to the Capitol and threaten the man who herded the geese? No chance. Earlier, I did consider telling the gabby gooseboy just how he had landed me in it - but I had been dissuaded by my level-headed wife.

'They are pretty obvious.'

'Want me to move them on?'

'No. Their masters will just send others.' Petronius did not ask me, what masters.

Helena came in to join us. I glanced at Petro, and we moved away from the window. Helena glanced at us suspiciously.

'Did you hear Marcus make his speech?'

Petronius sprawled on a couch, stretching his long limbs. Helena and he looked at one another, then at me, then they both beamed. 'You and your mouth!' he commented, perhaps fondly.

Helena's smile faded slightly. 'It all needed to be said, Lucius.'

'Well,' said Petro, drawling quietly, 'our boy made a big impression.

I joined him on the couch. 'You feel I should not have done it?' My best friend gazed at me. 'You broke some rules today. I worry for you.' That was unlike him.

'If he wants to move among the big bad b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,' Helena murmured, 'I would rather see him break their rules and offend them, than become what they are.'

'Agreed. Nothing he said was safe - but nothing he said was wrong either.'

For some time then we all sat musing.

'So,' Helena asked Petro eventually, 'Lucius, what is your news that affects the court case?' As if by chance, she went and straightened a window shutter, quickly glancing out to see what we had been looking at earlier.

Petronius ma.s.saged his scalp with both hands, then squeezed his fingers along his neck wearily. He watched Helena checking up on us. She spotted the observers. She shot me a glance of annoyance, but then came back and sat with us.

'Falco, I don't know if this is good or bad, but you need to know about it.'

I nudged him. 'Cough up.'

'The lads in the Second Cohort have been following the news. It finally struck them that Metellus senior died in his house and the death may be unnatural. So somebody ought to have tortured the slaves.'

He was right: I did not know whether I was happy or not.

Whenever a free citizen - well, one of a rank the authorities admire - is murdered at home, the legal a.s.sumption is that his slaves may have done it. They are all automatically tortured, to find out. This is good in one way, because their evidence is then acceptable in court; slaves can only be court witnesses if they are speaking under torture. On the other hand, evidence extracted under torture has a large flaw: it is quite unreliable. 'So n.o.body thought of it originally, because Calpurnia said the death was suicide and everyone believed her?'

'n.o.body ever called the vigiles in. I can get you a sight of the report,' Petro offered. Then he pulled a prim face. 'Of course, the Second are under their own pressure. I can't promise to show it to you before it reaches that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Paccius.'

'Well, thanks for trying.'

'What are friends for?'

I could hear small thundering feet. One of my children was heading my way. Nux was barking. Any moment now, the great orator full of lofty thoughts would have to crawl around the floor making a mess of the rag rugs.

'Have the Second actually started?' I enquired quickly.

Petro winced, as Julia burst in on us and flew at me. 'Believe so.'

'Anything come out of it?' I coughed, from a p.r.o.ne position at floor level, with my daughter bouncing on my chest. I was thinking of putting her forward to the army as a new type of artillery. The dog was trying to kill my boot, even though I was wearing it. Helena pretended to think I liked it, and let them both carry on with their attack.

'The usual.' This would be confidential, but Petro trusted me. 'Most swear they knew nothing about anything. One croaked that we should "Ask Perseus".'

'Door porter. I already know he's no good.'

'Missing. The Second are hunting him. No luck so far.'

'He's a sa.s.sy wretch - and leaning on the family -' It sounded as though the Second Cohort were working along lines I liked. Besides, my old friend was keeping an eye on them. 'They could try for him in Lanuvium.'

'Yes, they've gone there looking.' Io! Things were moving fast. Suddenly it seemed too fast.

I grabbed Julia, holding her off me while she squealed and thrashed in ecstasy. I kicked feebly, failing to shake off Nux from my leg. 'Who was the slave who pointed at Perseus?'

'Some kitchen greaseball.'

'Probably the doodle who gets to stand in when Perseus fancies a rest.. I a.s.sume they are pressing him for more?'

'We know our job!' Petro grinned. His face grew more serious. 'Well, the Second seem to enjoy it too much. I'm sure they were careful - but the slave who talked is currently out of it.'

'Crazed?'

'Raving.'

'Oh really, Petronius!' Helena hated rough stuff. 'Marcus knows about Perseus - there was no need to damage some innocent!'

I held Julia still, and hauled myself upright. 'Can you ask them to be gentler if they ever tackle Perseus?'

Petro nodded, wordlessly.

'Try the steward,' I suggested, after a moment's thought. 'I reckon he's ripe - and he would have ordered lunch that day.'

I liked the steward, but he had had his chance. He could have talked to me. Now he would have to take his chance with the heavy-handed Second Cohort.

XLVI.

NEXT DAY, I was still preparing for my ordeal with the praetor when Honorius turned up. He had done some smart work with Marponius, persuading him to call a full adjournment for today.

So Marponius was on our side. All the more reason to press on, and not to be held up by distractions like imagined impiety. Marponius might be with us now - but if we left him stewing too long, somebody would get to him. I had always distrusted Paccius and Silius, but now I had seen just how they worked. Marponius thought himself incorruptible. He wouldn't last five minutes.

Honorius loved my news about the Second examining slaves.

'This is excellent, Falco. Juries love a case where the slaves have been tortured. Some prosecutors deliberately try to drag in a treason charge so they can do it.' He looked thoughtful. 'Actually, treason is an aspect we could introduce. Am I right that after the original corruption case, the Metelli made a clemency appeal to the Emperor?'

I nodded. 'Where's the treason in that?'

'Vespasian refused them?'

'Yes.'

'And so they were angry... any chance you can find me a letter they wrote afterwards.'

'What letter?' n.o.body had mentioned letters.

'Any letter. It needs suspicious marks alongside the Emperor's name. Well, no. It needs to be in a suspect's own hand, that's all. We can blur in some suspicious marks ourselves; I have a friend who can match ink -'

I laughed. 'That's fraud, you idiot!'

'Evidence of suspicious conversations would be even better.'

'Honorius, compose yourself please. We are not that desperate.'

'Well how about a suspicious trip somewhere... ?' He tailed off. Cheery thoughts frolicked behind those handsome eyes. 'Did we ever find out why Birdy went off to Lanuvium?'

'Seeing the land agent, we think. Justinus is supposed to bring back details.' That reminded me: where was Camillus Justinus? His absence was becoming suspicious -too. I hoped he had not run into some voluptuous Lanuvium barmaid.

'Well anyway,' Honorius stopped speculating so wildly. 'Interrogating the slaves is good. Even if they never say anything.'

Helena was watching me, so I tackled Honorius: 'Isn't that a waste of effort - not to mention cruelty?'

Honorius patted my arm. He had a very cold hand. 'Falco, the point is to have it known that they were tortured.'

'So we need not really cause them pain?'

Honorius had sensed our antagonism. He replied rather carefully: 'A few screams never come amiss. Rumours of the screaming soon reach the jury.'

All this time, Helena had been listening with a set expression. She was patiently holding my toga across her outstretched arms, ready to deposit the garment around me. The glint in her expression needed no interpretation. Her look was so hostile that a bronze lamp (a winged bootee, a tasteless Saturnalia gift I had not yet dumped) was shivering against its stand. Finally my tight-lipped female dresser had to speak: 'Honorius, would it not be better to stop relying on supposition and cheap legal tricks - and gather a solid trail of evidence?'

Honorius looked startled. Helena glared at him. He decided he had things to do elsewhere.

'Oh by the way, Falco - this will tickle you. My old senior seems impressed by us... Silius carne to see me last night.' He blushed, already regretting this confession. 'I can't imagine how he found me; I was at my ex-wife's house -'

'What,' I demanded curtly of the reminiscing lover, 'did Silius want?'

'Oh... He tried to buy me off, that's all.' I kept my temper. 'What did he offer?'

'My old position back.'

'You walked out, remember.'

'And a large cash welcome... Don't worry,' Honorius a.s.sured me quietly. He met my eye, looking confident. 'It didn't work.'

I let him go.

Growling to herself, Helena draped me in my toga for the praetor. With care, she positioned the first end on my left shoulder, brought the bulk around me from behind, tucked in the front, placed the free end back over my shoulder, tidied the pleats neatly and checked that my hem lengths were not ludicrous. She kissed me, very gently. Only then did she comment.

'Next time, Silius will offer him more.'

Worse was awaiting me downstairs in my reception hall. The one person who would unfairly believe Procreus' impiety charge accosted me: 'Well, you look awkward! Is that your brother's toga? He knew how to wear it.' If Paccius and Silius were trying to demoralise me, they were amateurs.

'h.e.l.lo, Mother.'

'Will my troubles never end? - Oh, the shame of it. Now I hear that somehow I produced a blasphemer!'

'Ma, just tell your nosy friends: I have been incorrectly called a slacker by troublemaking slanderers.' I waved the tablet with the carefully concocted record of my movements. 'Your boy is innocent.'

'We'll see!'

Once again I kept my temper valiantly. 'Yes, we shall.'

I could not attend on the praetor while wound up with irritation. Besides, when I opened the door, I found rainstorms sweeping down the street. Helena made me wait while her litter was fetched to keep my precious toga dry. I stood on the step, feeling bitter, lashed by the weather anyway. Nux came and joined me, barking at the wind. 'Stupid dog!' I picked her up to carry her in. Wet dog hairs adhered to my formal attire in unattractive clumps.

Helena tried to distract Ma. She was grieving that my father would love this disaster. She pretended he would say it was her fault. Helena suggested that they should blame Pa. That thought improved my mother's mood.

Meanwhile we had another visitor: Ursulina Prisca had come again to haunt us, hoping to bother Justinus. In his absence, her feelers had twitched out that Honorius was legal and she had detained him with the long story of her disputed inheritance. The short man's handsome face creased with apprehension as he tried to fend her off. Helena moved in smoothly. She retrieved the desperate Honorius, hooking a capable hand under his elbow and drawing him to safety.

'Honorius, Silius will not give up. He will increase his offer - and next time I dare say you will take it.'

'I told you -'

'I know.' Helena's smile was silken. 'But you are a young idealist. You want to do good work, prosecuting bad people. The old fox will persuade you that work of such a high standard can only be found with him. Just remember what he really does - and why he is asking you.

Honorius may have hoped to hitch a lift with me, but Helena steered him straight outside and pushed him off into the storm by himself.

Now she turned her attention to Ursulina Prisca. 'I am so glad to see you. I wanted to ask something. You were a midwife, weren't you?'

'Yes, she was!' cried Ma.

'I am trying to find a wet-nurse -'

'Not for our little Sosia!' Ma protested loudly. Even Ursulina sucked in breath. She must know we had a baby. She had been here enough times; she must have heard Sosia Favonia yelling.

'No, no; I'm still nursing her myself I wouldn't dream -' Helena realised that it sounded as if she wanted to abandon breast-feeding. (I knew she did, which added to her guilt.) The disapproval of two witchy crones fastened on her. To mention baby teeth and weaning on to porridge would just sound like special pleading. Helena battled on: 'Marcus needs to interview a wet-nurse in connection with our case -' It was news to me, but I never argued with her hunches. 'If I go, she may speak more freely...'