"Oh… it happens." Cyprianus clammed up. "Falco knows the score." There was at least one problem, with the marble cladding. Milchato had admitted it.

Falco was not taking back the baton yet, however. Falco liked I

seeing his darling investigate on his behalf.

"Was Rectus angry?" she asked next, seeming merely curious. I

"Rectus is a flaming comet. He only knows how to curse and rage '

"What else happened at the meeting?" Helena asked. "Was anyone else upset?"

"Strephon was agitating about that statue-seller you're friendly with, Falco, the one who wants an interview. Pomponius hates salesmen. Strephon tried him again but he still said no. Strephon can't tell hawkers to march. Strephon is too nice. He hates unhappiness."

"Would Sextius know yet that Pomponius won't see him?" Helena was wondering if Sextius might have a grudge.

"Only if Strephon has been a big boy and passed the information on. But Strephon was sulking the last I saw."

"What form did his sulk take?"

"Biting his nails and kicking the stool Plancus was sitting on."

"Was Plancus irritated by that?" I put in, grinning. I

"Plancus wouldn't notice if his head fell off. Dim as a duck." '

"How did he get on a prestigious project such as this?" Helena asked.,

Cyprianus eyed Helena nervously and refused to answer.

"It's a good question. Tell us how!" I insisted.

The clerk of works looked at me scathingly. "Plancus was Pomponius' boyfriend, Falco. I thought you realised." The thought _

had never crossed my mind.

"So Plancus joined the project only because he was the chief architect's favourite- but he's untalented?"

"Coasting. World of his own."

"Strephon? Is he a pretty boy too?"

"Doubt it. Strephon has a wife and child. As a designer, he shows potential. But with Pomponius ruling everything, it's never been called upon."

"What are relations between Plancus and Strephon, then?"

"Not close!"

"And is Strephon jealous of the bond between Pomponius his superior- and the boyfriend Plancus?"

"If he's not he ought to be."

"It all sounds rather unhappy," Helena said.

"Normal," Cypnanus told her gloomily.

There was a thoughtful pause. Helena stretched her feet out, staring at her sandals. "Did anything else happen that we should know about?"

Cyprianus gave her a long look. He was a traditionalist, unused to women asking questions on professional subjects; that 'we' of hers had raised his hackles. I knew Helena was aware of it. I shot him an inquisitive look myself, and eventually he forced himself to shake his head to Helena's question.

After a moment, he repeated his anxiety when we first sat down here: "What are we to do now?"

"About the body?" I queried.

"No, about the loss of our project manager, Falco! This is an enormous site. However is the job to continue?"

"As normal, surely?" "Someone has to steer. Pomponius was a Rome appointment. We'll have to send off for a new man; they must identify someone who's good, persuade him that a remote sojourn in Britain is just the torture he wants, then extract him from whatever he's working on at present… We've no hope they can find a good architect who is free at this moment. Even if they could, the poor sod has to get here. Then he must learn his way around someone else's design plans…" He tailed off in despair.

"Would you say," I asked slowly, "Pomponius had been chosen for this project because he was good?"

Cyprianus considered the proposition, but his answer came swiftly. "He was good, Falco. He was very good if he was held in check. It was just power he couldn't handle."

"So who can?" I sneered.

Cyprianus and I both laughed. It was a man's joke. Even so, Helena gave a little smile at some amusement of her own.

We heard noises; the King had sent people to lock up the baths as I suggested. I stood up stiffly. "It was late before; now it's later. Two requests, Cyprianus: keep your mouth shut over this- don't even relate the tale to your friend Magnus, please. And in the morning, can you fix me up another site meeting, with everyone who attended today?"

He said yes to both. I was past caring whether he obeyed the plea for secrecy. This had been a long day and tomorrow was bound to be longer. I wanted my bed.

I don't know what arrangements Cyprianus made for his own security, but I made damn sure that my iamily's suite was well locked up that night.

XXXVII

my bad tooth had reasserted itself when I arrived at the project meeting. I was late. I had had a rough night, due in part to the baby crying. But I absolved Favonia. I can never rest peacefully after an encounter with a corpse.

Everyone else was already present. My hope for surprise was thwarted: they all knew what had happened. I wasted no time holding an inquest. There had never been much chance of keeping things quiet.

We all crowded into the architect's room, this time with me taking the chair. I sensed that it did not entirely put me in charge.

The atmosphere was quiet, tense and sour. They were all aware Pomponius was dead, and they probably knew how.

There had been collusion obviously. Instead of me watching them for their reactions, they were all staring at me. Informers recognise the challenge: well, let's see if you can work this out, Falco! If I was lucky, they were just curious to see how clever I was. A worse alternative would be that they had set some trap. I was the man from Rome. I should never forget that.

Present was all of the surviving project team: Cyprianus the clerk of works; Magnus the surveyor; both Plancus and Strephon the junior architects; Lupus the overseas labour supervisor; Timagenes the landscape gardener; Milchato the marble mason; Philocles Junior the bereaved mosaicist, taking his father's place; Blandus the fresco painter; Rectus the drainage engineer. Absent was anyone representing the British labour now Mandumerus had absconded. Gaius represented all the clerks. Alexas the medical orderly had joined us at my request; later I would escort him to the bath house to remove the body. Verovolcus had added himself, no doubt at the instigation of the King.

"Should we have carpenters? Roof-tilers?" I asked Cyprianus.

He shook his head. "I stand in for the trades unless we have a technical issue to discuss."

"You wanted all of us from the farting meeting yesterday," Rectus groused.

"That's right. You had an issue to raise then?"

"Technical hitch."

He did not know that Cyprianus, while in shock last night, had described the hitch: expensive ceramic pipes missing and Rectus incandescent with fury. "It's sorted?" I asked innocently.

"Just routine, Falco."

The drainage engineer was lying or at least putting me off. It might be significant or just symptomatic. The team was against me, that was certain.

It was not the first time everyone in a case was hostile, but that was to my advantage. I had professional experience. Unless they regularly arranged murders when life became difficult on site, they were amateurs.

I There was not much room in the project manager's packed '" quarters, and certainly no privacy for individual questioning. I handed

them tablets that I had brought for that purpose and asked everyone to write down their whereabouts the previous evening, supplying the names of anyone who could vouch for them. Verovolcus looked as if he thought himself exempt from this after-banquet parry game, but I gave him a tablet anyway. I did wonder whether he would be able to write, but it appeared he could.

"While you are doing that, can I make a general appeal for anyone who saw anything significant in the region of the royal bath house?"

Nobody responded, although I thought there were some sideways glances. I realised that when I came to look at these tablets the men were gravely inscribing, they would all fit neatly, each one covered with an alibi and each in turn covering somebody else.