JUST BECAUSE he had sent for me did not mean the praetor was ready to receive me. He liked to toy with his victims. The lictor dumped me in a long corridor, where benches stood all along the walls for those the great man was keeping waiting. Bored and unhappy pet.i.tioners were already lined up, looking as if they had been there all day.

I joined them. The bench was hard, backless and a foot too low.

Almost immediately Helena Justina arrived and found me; she squashed in alongside. She must have spotted me being marched off so she had scurried after us. She took my hand, winding her fingers tightly among mine. Even at that low ebb, I looked sideways and gave her a half-smile. Helena leaned her head on my shoulder, eyes closed. I moved a gold ear-ring; the granulated crescent was pressing into her cheek. Then I slumped against her, also resting.

Whatever our fate, we would have each other.

We would have two infants and various hangers-on as well - no chance of returning to a two-room doss in a tenement. We both knew that. Neither of us bothered to say it.

Eventually a clerk with a b.u.t.toned-up mouth and a disapproving squint called us into an anteroom. He got my name wrong, on purpose probably. The praetor had recoiled from an interview with me. His clerk was to do the dirty work. The bureau beetle buried his nose in a scroll, lest he inadvertently made human contact. Somebody had told him that just looking at an informer can give you impetigo and a year's bad luck.

'You are Marcus Didius Falco? The Procurator of the Sacred Geese?' He could hardly believe it; somebody in the secretariats must have nodded off. At least the judgmental swine could understand why my appointment had gone wrong. 'The magistrate is greatly perturbed by this accusation of impiety. Irreverence to the G.o.ds and dereliction of temple duties are shocking misdemeanours. The magistrate regards them as abhorrent and would impose the highest penalty if such charges were ever proven -'

'The charges are trumped up and slanderous,' I commented. My tone was benign but Helena kicked me. I elbowed her back; she was just as likely as me to interrupt this parakeet.

Repartee was not in his script so the clerk continued for some time, rehearsing the magistrate's pompous views. They had been helpfully recorded on the scroll - ensuring that somebody's back was well covered. Wondering exactly who needed to clear themselves for posterity, I let the insults roll. Eventually the stylus-pusher remembered that he had a lunchtime meeting with his betting syndicate. He shut up. I asked what was to happen. He forced himself to give me the news. The mighty magistrate's opinion was: charges dismissed; no case to answer.

I managed to hold out until we reached the street outside. I grasped Helena by the shoulders and pulled her around until she faced me.

'Oh Marcus, you are furious!'

'Yes!' I was relieved - but I hated having things manipulated for me. 'Who fixed it, fruit?'

A glimmer of mischief smouldered in those huge brown eyes. 'I have no idea.'

'Who did your father trot off to see last night?'

'Well, he went to see the Emperor -' I began to speak. 'But Vespasian was busy -' I fell silent again. 'So I believe father saw t.i.tus Caesar.'

'And what did b.l.o.o.d.y t.i.tus have to say?'

'Marcus darling, I expect he just listened. Papa was quite angry that you had been left to your fate. My father said, he could not stand by while his two darling little granddaughters were d.a.m.ned - incorrectly - with a charge of having an impious father, so although you felt obliged to stay silent about your recent imperial missions, Papa himself would go to court and give evidence on your behalf.'

'So t.i.tus -'

't.i.tus likes to do a good deed every day.'

't.i.tus is an idiot. You know I hate all patronage. I never asked to be rescued. I don't want to sweeten the conscience of an imperial playboy.'

'You'll live with it,' Helena responded cruelly. 'I understand t.i.tus Caesar suggested that the praetor - with one eye on his future consulship - could probably be brought to see (with his other eye presumably; how lucky he has never had a spear-throwing accident...) that Procreus has no evidence.'

'I'm stuck then.' I gazed at her. Ridiculous humour sparkled back at me. 'I don't care a duck's fart if my daughters are labelled with impiety - but to provide for them, I have an urgent need to be respectable.'

'You make a perfect head of household,' Helena told me lovingly. She could smarm like a minor G.o.ddess on the loose from Olympus for the night. Any shepherds out roaming the Seven Hills had better jump in a ditch to hide.

'I give in. Helena Justina, the law is wonderful.'

'Yes, Marcus. I never cease to be glad that we live in a society with a fine judicial system.'

I was about to say, as she expected from me, 'and systematically corrupt'. I never did. We stopped joking, because while we stood there bantering, her brother Justinus came running to find us. As he bent double, catching his breath, I could tell from his expression he had brought upsetting news.

'You had better come, Marcus. Calpurnia Cara's house.'

LV.

As we walked, Quintus explained hastily. He had gone back to pressurise the steward, Celadus. Celadus was still snoozing at the bar this morning, though he had had to sober up because the barkeeper had complained that his drunkenness was bad for trade. While Quintus talked to him again, they saw a messenger from Paccius, sent to find out why Calpurnia had not appeared in court today. As usual, n.o.body at the house answered the door.

If even her lawyer did not know where she was, that was worrying. Justinus and Celadus broke into the house. They found Calpurnia dead.

By the time we returned there, a small crowd had gathered. However, n.o.body was trying to go in. Sightseers had gathered in the street by the two empty shops and remained there. We walked down the pa.s.sage to the yellow Egyptian obelisks.

The front door stood ajar. Inside, Celadus was sitting on the back of the sphinx in the atrium, his head in his hands. He was cursing himself for loitering at the bar when he could have prevented what happened. Still loyal to his patrons, he was mightily upset. Justinus stayed in the atrium with him. Helena and I walked swiftly to the bedroom. The house was cold and echoed emptily. n.o.body had been here for several days.

We found Calpurnia Cara lying on her bed. She was fully clothed and positioned on top of the bedcovers. Her dress was formal, her grey hair neatly pinned - though her manner of dying had caused convulsions that disturbed her careful layout. Only her shoes had been removed before she took up her place; they stood together on a floor rug. She wore a single gold necklace, which we now knew was probably the only piece of jewellery she still owned.

It was perfectly clear that what had occurred here was suicide. On a table beside her lay an open sardonyx box, mocking the scene she had staged previously for her dead husband. It looked to be the same box purchased all that time ago from Rhoemetalces for Metellus. Flimsy fragments of gold leaf were scattered beside the box, which was empty. There would have been four corn c.o.c.kle pills left, after the apothecary swallowed one in court. Calpurnia must have broken open all four remaining pills and removed the outer sh.e.l.l of gold. Then she swallowed the corn c.o.c.kle seeds, which she washed down with water from a gla.s.s that had afterwards fallen beside her hand on the coverlet.

A sealed letter addressed to her children was on the side table. I took it, then we left hastily. The side-effects of the poison were unpleasant and the corpse had deteriorated since she died.

Calpurnia must have killed herself the day she was last seen in court. That was when the charge against her had seemed likely to hold up, before we knew she was innocent. She never knew we had withdrawn the charge.

It would have been easy to blame myself. And believe me, I did.

We took the steward with us, making the house secure again behind us. To be certain all was in order, I asked Justinus to wait outside until the family sent someone. Helena went home, knowing I would join her shortly.

With Celadus silent beside me, I walked to the younger daughter's home. That was closest, and I knew Carina better than Juliana. I would have to speak to the husband first; I preferred to broach Verginius Laco rather than the ill-tempered Canidia.n.u.s Rufus, who always seemed so irritated by his in-laws' misfortunes. I found Laco in. I told him the news, offered our sympathies, pa.s.sed him the letter from Calpurnia (which I noticed was addressed only to her two daughters, not to Negrinus). I mentioned to Verginius Laco that I hoped this would mean the family secret could now be revealed.

Since Laco had always seemed a decent sort, and since within limits I trusted him, I brought him up to date on the murder of Metellus senior by Saffia. Licinius Lutea had been Saffia's a.s.sociate in the blackmail and could have known about the poisoning, though he would deny all of it. Whatever Lutea knew about the Metellus family could still trouble them. The secret might come out anyway. I told Laco I thought both Silius Italicus and Paccius Africa.n.u.s had known all along that Metellus had been murdered, and who really did it. Bratta was in custody over a related issue and might be persuaded to confess all sorts of things to the vigiles; Petronius would let Bratta think he would receive favourable treatment in the Spindex killing if he offered other information.

These points were important to Negrinus. The murder charge against him was still down to be heard in the Senate. As far as I knew, the two informers had made no move to withdraw their pet.i.tion. So what would they do now? Silius still, after all this time, needed to show that Rubirius Metellus had not committed suicide. Would they now demonstrate that it was Saffia who killed him? 'Laco, I have come to view these men as shameless in their self-interest. I had supposed Paccius was keeping Bratta at his house to stop me finding the man. But perhaps it was for more despicable reasons. Paccius may have been making sure he could turn Bratta in, if he needed to support a scheme to denounce Saffia.'

Laco pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. 'The vigiles are holding this man. But will he clear Negrinus?'

'I have brought you Celadus, who can do that. Corroboration from Bratta would be useful, but it's probably not essential.'

Verginius Laco, as was his wont, heard me out in silence, thanked me politely, and gave away nothing.

Even so, I was not too surprised when, three days, later, Helena and I, and her two brothers, were invited to visit the Metelli that evening. Clearly it was not a social invitation, or we would have been offered dinner first. Hoping that somebody wanted to open up, we dressed carefully - Helena in a matching dress and stole in tawny shades, with a full set of silver jewellery; me in a clean tunic, one with itchy rope patterned braid cluttering up the edges. At Helena's pointed suggestion, I had had myself shaved. While I was submitting myself to the cut-throat blade, she read through all our case-notes.

We travelled in her litter, snuggling up under a rug, which helped the time pa.s.s as the bearers trudged slowly through the winter night. For reasons of her own, Helena had made them take a long detour, going up and over the Aventine above our house. It was a steep climb, apparently just so Helena could pop in with a bunch of winter celery for my mother.

Ma cannot have been expecting this treat, for she was entertaining Aristagoras. He was her eighty-year-old man-friend, a source of much curiosity and highly strung gossip in the family. When we arrived, the amiable fellow grinned a lot then tottered off like an arthritic gra.s.shopper; Ma claimed that he had just called to bring her some c.o.c.kles.

While I looked around for a new sh.e.l.lfish jar and failed to find it, Helena got down to her real business: 'Junilla Tacita, we are on our way to see some people and I don't have time to track down Ursulina Prisca. I wondered if by any chance you could help me clarify something...'

'I know nothing about anything,' Mother moaned, in a pathetic mood. Evenings tired her. She was ready to nod off in her armchair, and probably glad we had driven out her admirer.

'Oh, you know everything! I was so glad you came with me to see that wet-nurse -'

'Euboule? Don't trust her!'

'No, I didn't care for her at all,' Helena agreed. 'But one thing puzzles me. I have remembered that Ursulina told me not to take baby Favonia there because, she said, "you might never get the little darling back" -'

'Have you done anything for that poor woman, son?' Swiftly distracted, Ma rounded on me.

'Ursulina? Our next job, Ma,' I lied.

'Oh you take your time, my boy! She's only desperate.'

'No, she's not. She's stirring up trouble in her family - something I would never do in mine, of course.'

'The woman needs help.'

Ursulina needed another interest in life. I just said mildly, 'We will help her, but she may have to wait. I'm desperate myself. I have to find half a million sesterces for a vicious compensation claim -'

'So you let someone down?' sneered Ma, so unimpressed by my plight she had failed to take in the large figure.

'He was tricked by wicked men,' Helena defended me. She managed to get back to her original query: 'It may help Marcus if he knows what Euboule and Zeuko have been up to. He needs to know tonight.'

Ma stared at her. Luckily she was weary, wanting to be left alone. Her normal readiness to spar was weakened. 'Oh you know what those wet-nurses are like...' Helena waited. 'Rich women dump their babies there, and half the time - so Ursulina says - they forget what the children even look like. They have no idea if what they get back after a year or two is even theirs.'

'I would recognise Sosia Favonia!'

'Of course you would. Then again -'Ma, who disapproved of wetnursing, went off into a rant. 'Of course some of those women do it on purpose. They don't want another pregnancy so if they've got a sickly little thing they take it along and make sure the wet-nurse replaces it if misfortune strikes -'

'That's horrible.'

'Not if it suits everyone. I could have exchanged a few of mine quite happily!' Ma cackled, and made sure she glared at me.

Helena Justina rocked back on her seat and stared at the ceiling, her mouth pursed.

'Still,' said Ma crisply. 'We know exactly what happened in this case of yours.'

'We do?' I asked.

Ma sounded complaisant. 'Oh, Ursulina and I worked it all out for you.' I breathed slowly, keeping my expectation in check. 'We could have solved it for you days ago.'

'Well pardon me, why didn't you say something? So, Mother darling, what's the dirty secret?'

'Son, it's obvious. Someone creeping up the stairs by moonlight.'

'What?'

'Euboule and her daughter probably know. That woman, Calpurnia must have put one over on her husband. Good for her!' chortled my mother. 'She must have had a boyfriend. Don't ask me who - it's your job to spot the culprit. Friend of her husband's, or a pretty slave. So this young man the fuss is all about -'

'Her son, Negrinus?'

'You ask them, Marcus. I bet he was not her husband's child.'

'You could well be right,' Helena said. 'The wife upset her husband, which could mean that he found out one day; the son was disinherited; people blackmailed the family. They call the son Birdy -'

'He's a cuckoo,' snorted Ma. 'A rich little cuckoo in the fancy nest.'

Helena fetched Ma her house slippers. I made her a warm drink. Then we continued on our way to visit the Metelli. Perhaps we were about to learn their family secret. Perhaps we already knew it.

On the other hand, nothing was simple in connection with this family. Helena agreed that it was quite likely the children of Calpurnia Cara still harboured some surprises.

LVI.

We were escorted into the white salon. Fine oils burned in the gilded lamps, gleaming on the nifty bronze Aphrodite in her matt plastered niche. The two sisters, Rubiria Juliana and Rubiria Carina, were displaying handsome jewellery as they sat in genteel postures on the best-positioned ornate couch. Their husbands spread themselves on other plush upholstery, one on each side of the women. Negrinus sat gloomily one along from Verginius Laco, feet planted in front of him and elbows on his knees; beyond Negrinus was a tanned, thickset man we had never seen before. Helena and I took places near the scowling Canidia.n.u.s Rufus, forming a half-circle. We ended up opposite the stranger. He stared at us curiously, and we returned the compliment.

The Camillus brothers arrived last, though fortunately not too late. They redeemed themselves by their smartness. Each wore well-buffed leather boots, tight belts, and identical white tunics; I detected their mother's hand in their overall neat turnout. Neither had his usual hair parting and I reckoned the n.o.ble Julia Justa had tackled them both with her fine bone comb before letting them loose.

Justinus immediately nodded a greeting to the thickset man. That confirmed he was Julius Alexander, the freedman and land agent from Lanuvium. Despite their tussle over Perseus, when the lads stationed themselves on the remaining seat Justinus sat adjacent to the freedman. Both then leaned over the curled arms of their couches and muttered in an undertone about the vigiles' fatal handling of the door porter.

Silent slaves handed trays of savoury fancies, which we mostly left untouched in case they crumbled disastrously in our fingers; others brought delicate silver thimbles of rather sweet white wine. Not a lot was said. Everyone was waiting for the attendants to withdraw. Carina gave the signal early, and they vanished. People tried surrept.i.tiously to find somewhere to discard their little wine tots. I bent forward and placed Helena's and mine on the floor beneath our couch, giving myself heartburn. Out of sight behind my back, Helena ma.s.saged my ribs. She always knew when I was in danger of emitting an unseemly belch.

Since n.o.body else seemed keen to break the silence, I began. 'This meeting follows the death of your mother, presumably? Has that freed you to be more open?'

Verginius Laco, thin, austere and understated, now seemed to be the family leader. 'There has been a long disagreement about making public a certain situation.'

'Calpurnia wanted to keep the secret?' I smiled politely. 'If it helps, Falco and a.s.sociates already a.s.sume that all your problems centre on the parentage of Birdy.'

Carina jumped. 'Please don't call him that!' I had tried it out deliberately. None of my party was surprised when his sister said unhappily, 'That was his wife's name for him. None of us ever use it.'

'We understand.' Helena was sympathetic. She dropped in the answer almost as if it hardly counted: 'Saffia employed an unkind nickname to remind everyone of what she knew: that Negrinus was not really his father's son.'

'Took you long enough to guess!' Canidia.n.u.s Rufus seemed to be here on sufferance. Always edgy, his unhappiness was worse tonight. Whatever was about to be exposed, he hated it. His wife, Juliana, stared down at her lap.

'Once you know,' I agreed, 'it explains a great deal.' Rufus humphed.

More relaxed than his brother-in-law, Laco leaned sideways on a couch arm, hands linked, surveying me. He had made a habit of holding back, waiting for me to reveal what I knew before he spoke up. Expecting candour, I suddenly had a feeling that he was still testing me, still ready to disguise the facts. I became more careful.