"No, no!" Aelianus had really entered into the spirit and his response was fierce. "If you hate someone enough to strangle them, and to gouge their eye out, you can remove the evidence."

"Agreed." I reflected. "It's interesting that whoever did it thought that the compasses should be replaced- but apparently they thought the string was just anonymous twine. Were they trying to implicate Magnus, or had they just never seen- or never noticed a five-four three being used to make a right angle? That means it was not a surveyor, and most likely not the clerk of works."

Aelianus shrugged. This was my theory. He would not argue, but he would not become excited by it either.

"If there was more than one man involved," I suggested, 'it could reflect different personalities. One removed the compasses, the other simply did not bother about the twine."

"Neat and Slapdash?"

"Even if they were Neat and Tidy the killer, or killers, could have been interrupted. Maia arrived at the baths," I pointed out. My sister was tough, but I tried not to dwell on her near encounter with the killers. "Cyprianus too, if we accept he was an innocent participant."

"It just won't work," Aelianus rebuked me, typically frank. "Maia Favonia never ventured further than the changing room. And we can discount even Cyprianus. You know bath houses have dead acoustics. Nobody in the final caldarium would have heard anyone outside until that person was on top of them. Then it was too late to escape."

"So," I began, pursuing a new line, 'do we reckon the killer or killers went to the baths on purpose, did their deed and quickly tied?"

"It they went there especially, Falco, how could they be certain that Pomponius was all alone and that nobody would interrupt?"

"They kept the baths under observation until it was safe to strike."

"It's rather horrible," mouthed Aelianus. "Pomponius is inside lazing with his stngil set…" He tailed off for a moment. "Well, that's clear premeditation anyway."

"No doubt a good barrister, untroubled by conscience, would argue them out of that…" I thought little of lawyers.

"But Falco! He was cornered like vermin. Once you get in the bowels of a bath house, you're trapped."

"Don't dwell on it, Aulus. Or next time you're slaking off the grime with your lavender oil, you might get jumpy."

Aelianus whistled through his teeth.

After a moment he perked up and decided, "So we think it's a conspiracy by the entire project team."

He and I had been so absorbed we had forgotten our companions. At that, there was an upheaval from the wicker chair. Larius bestirred himself, wriggled himself upright and let out an extraordinary belch. Aelianus and I looked pained. Julia Junilla sat down on a rug with her fat legs in front of her and tried to copy the disgusting noise.

"Myths!" exclaimed Larius. "You two mad buggers are indulging fantasies. Why say it's the damned project team?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You're defending them?"

"They are a bunch of wet-arsed, boneless sea anemones," Larius growled. "Jelly throughout. Not one of them could fight his way out of a cushion-case. The whole team together couldn't work out a plan to open a latrine door even if they all had the squits."

"You give us a fine assessment of these noble men," Aelianus congratulated him sarcastically.

"Let's have your assessment then, Larius."

"Uncle Marcus, the place is swarming with angry parties who all hated Pomponius for much better reasons than any of your suspects. The worse the project team had against him was that he was overbearing and horrible."

"I concede that if being unpleasant were enough to get a man slain at the baths, Rome would be an empty city."

"Try these," Larius listed. "The rnarblers. Who needs bloody marble veneers anyway?" he complained professionally. "I can paint better veining, without any expensive breakages… They had some ruse, which has been stopped."

"The over-cutting scam. Milchato was told to prevent it," I said.

Larius pulled a face. "No, it was something much more lucrative, not just the old coarse-sand trick. Don't ask me what. I don't gossip with marble-men."

"Standards!" scoffed Aelianus.

"Get stuffed." Larius grinned. "Next, how about Lupus or Mandumerus?"

"Both?" I was surprised.

"Of course."

"Mandumerus had a fake labour fiddle. I exposed that."

"So Falco is next for strangling with the tight necklace?" asked Aelianus, rather too keenly.

"Oh he has you and your brother to look after him!" Larius laughed. "Anyway, it's known all over the site that Pomponius wanted to crucify Mandumerus but Falco vetoed it. So Mandumerus still doesn't like him, but he knows my dear uncle has a sensitive side."

"Tell me more about the Mandumerus racket," I said. "And why you include Lupus."

"Mandumerus has been working this trick with the false numbers for decades. He probably cannot even remember how to operate honestly. Lupus has his own scheme."

"What? I've gone through the labour records with the fine side of my comb, Larius, and found nothing suspicious."

"You wouldn't. The overseas labour has to be paid for by the Treasury. They pay Lupus; Lupus provides the men. But what Lupus does is sell the jobs to the highest bidder."

"How does it work?"

"To be employed in the overseas gangs, men have to bribe Lupus. Once they come out here, full of hope, it's a long way home if they don't get taken on. So he sets his own terms. Mostly they give him a cut of their pay. Some manage to produce wives or sisters whom they pimp to him. He's not fussy. He'll take payment in kind."

"Beats three sacks of barley and a basket of garlic," I sighed.

"The Treasury is getting what they pay for. Does it matter?" Aelianus asked.

"It does to an emperor who wants a reign famous for fairness," I explained.

"That's a bit idealistic!"

Larius and I, both plebeians, stared at Aelianus until he moved uneasily against the arm rest of his couch.

"That you think so is no surprise," I told him coldly. "I would have hoped a man of your intelligence would know better than to say it."

Helena's brother shifted again. "I thought you were a cynic, Falco."

I clasped my hands over my belt. "Oh no. I'm constantly expecting good in the world, believe me!"

XLIV

at the prickly silence which ensued, my daughter Julia became unhappy. As always, she yelled her head off. Larius shoved her toy cart about with his toe. The distraction tailed. Julia woke Favonia, who joined in the noise. I bestirred myself and picked up the baby, causing Larius to pinch his nose with disgust. "She stinks, Falco!"

"Reminds me of you at this age," I retorted. "Where are all my domestics anyway? What have you two done with the women of my household?"

"Helena Justina went to talk to the King. She took your sister as a chaperone."

"Now you tell me! There is supposed to be a nurse. Where's that idle miss Hyspale?"

"No idea."

"Aulus?"

"I would have said she had dressed herself up and gone off to swoon over Larius but Larius is here."

"She'd be disappointed anyway," scoffed Larius. "I have some standards."

"Anyway, you're too worn out by the bar girl," I jibed. "Why is Helena talking to Togi?"

"He sent for you. You were not here. I volunteered to replace you," Aelianus complained, 'but my sister overruled it."

I grinned, deducing that Helena had been her forceful self. "She's just a girl, you know. Try standing up to her."

He shot me a scornful look and did not deign to respond.

Leaving the lads in charge of the infants (with little hope of them changing the loincloth), I hot footed round to the royal apartments. The few plaid-clad attendants on duty seemed surprised that I should feel the need to bother to appear on my own behalf when someone so competent as Helena was already representing me. Still, they let me in.