As I walked down the Aventine and towards the Emporium the warm glow of having reached a decision about Helena kept me going for about two streets. After that normality descended. Bad enough was the problem of trying to pluck four hundred thousand sesterces from thin air. If I wanted Helena I had to pay the price, but it was still far beyond my reach. Even more depressing was the next task I had set myself: seeing another of my brothers-in-law. I tried to find him at his place of work. He was not there. I should have known. He was a bureaucrat; naturally he was on holiday.

My sister Junia, the superior one, had married a customs clerk. At seventeen, this had been her idea of moving up in society; now she was thirty-four. Gaius Baebius had progressed to supervising other clerks at the Emporium, but Junia undoubtedly had grander dreams in which a husband who merely hung around the docks collecting taxes did not feature. I sometimes wondered if Gaius Baebius ought to start testing his dinner on the dog. They did own a dog, mainly because they wanted to have a door-tile warning people to beware of him. Ajax was a nice dog. Well he had been once, before life's troubles got him down. Now he set about his duties as a watchdog as seriously as his master fulfilled his important role at the customs-house. Ajax's friendly greeting for tradesmen was to tear the hems off their tunics, and I knew of at least two lawsuits brought after he removed chunks of visitors' legs. I had actually given evidence for one of the plaintiffs, for which I had not yet been forgiven.

Ajax did not like me. When I appeared in his slightly smelly doorway innocently trying to gain admittance, he strained at his leash until his kennel began to slide across the floor. I managed to hop past, with his long snout an inch from my left calf, cursed the dog in an undertone, and shouted a somewhat tense welcome to whoever was inside the house.

Junia appeared. She shared Ajax's view of me. In her case it was legitimate, since my birth had supplanted her as the youngest in our family. She had maintained a thirty-year grudge against me for loss of privilege, even before I told a magistrate she kept a vicious dog.

'Oh, it's you! If you're coming in, take your boots off. They're covered with mud.' I was already unstrapping them; I had been to Junia's house before.

'Sort out your hound, will you? Good boy, Ajax! How many travelling onion-sellers has he killed today?'

My sister ignored that, but called her husband. It took two of them to drag the dog and his kennel to their proper position and calm the wild creature down.

I greeted Gaius Baebius, who had come out from his breakfast licking honey from his fingers. He looked embarrassed to be found relaxing in his second-best tunic, clearly unshaven for the past few days. Gaius and Junia only liked to be seen in public in full formal dress, with her leaning submissively on his right arm. They were spending their lives practising for their tombstone. I felt sombre every time I came within two yards of them.

They had no children. This perhaps explained their tolerance of Ajax. He ruled them like a spoiled heir. Had the law allowed it, they would have adopted him formally.

Being the only childless female among our highly fecund family had left Junia enjoying her right to bitterness. She kept herself very smart, her house so clean flies died of fear, and if asked about offspring said she had enough to do looking after Gaius Baebius. Why he caused so much work was a mystery to me. I found him about as exciting as watching a bird-bath evaporate.

'I hear you're on holiday?'

'Oh it's just a few days,' warbled Junia offhandedly.

'Of course you'll have four months at your private villa in Surrentum once the weather bucks up!' I was joking, but my sister blushed because that was what they liked to imply to people who knew them less well. 'Gaius Baebius, I need to talk to you.'

'Have some breakfast, Marcus.' My sister probably hoped I would say no, so although I had bought myself a bread roll on the way to their house, I accepted on principle. Some folk when they acquire money spend it avidly; Junia and her husband belonged to the other type, and were painfully mean in some ways. They were always changing the furniture, but hated to waste money on starving relatives.

Junia led the way to their dining-room. It was about three feet wide. Their apartment was the usual small rental, but Gaius Baebius had recently improved it with some odd partitioning. It stayed up, provided no one leaned against the walls, and enabled them to pretend they had a separate triclinium where banquets could take place. In fact people now ate squashed on stools in a row against a low table. Unfortunately, my brother-in-law's interior-design scheme meant if you had the table there was no room for even one proper eating-couch. I squeezed in without comment; he was really proud of their superior living style.

Junia served me a small chunk of loaf-making sure I got the black bits-and a sliver of pallid, tasteless cheese to help it down. Meanwhile Gaius Baebius carried on munching a mound of cold meats.

'New plates?' I asked politely, since much of mine was visible.

'Yes, we thought it was time we invested in Arretine. Such a wonderful gloss-'

'Oh these are not bad. We bought some ourselves,' I countered. 'Helena and I wanted something just a little more original. We hate to go out to dinner and find the same service we dine off at home: Ours was a present from a friendly potter at a little place I discovered when we were staying in Germany.'

'Really?' Junia had always been impossible to tease. She did not believe my foray into fancy dinnerware.

'I'm quite serious.' On the rare occasions when I managed to surpass these snobs I liked to make it known.

'Fancy that!' Junia rattled her bracelets and applied her gracious air. 'What did you want to ask Gaius Baebius?'

Insulting my hosts paled, so I settled down to business. 'I'm being forced to unravel a muddle our beloved Festus left behind. ' I saw them exchange a glance; word of my mission had run ahead of me. Junia surveyed me as if she knew Festus was about to be exposed as a villain and she blamed me for everything. 'Did you meet the soldier who was camping out at Mother's house? He's dead-'

'And you're supposed to have done it?' Trust Junia.

'Anyone who thinks so needs a new head, sister!'

'We didn't like to say much.'

'Thanks, Junia! Leaving things unsaid until the pot boils over is a fine art in our family, but this time it won't work. I'm desperate to clear myself before I'm in court on a murder charge. It all seems to hang on Festus and his business network. Gaius, the soldier came up with some story about imports. Can you tell me this: when Festus was sending items to Italy from abroad, did his ships land at Ostia?'

'As far as I know. I expect,' offered Gaius Baebius prudishly, 'Festus thought that having a brother-in-law in customs meant that he could dodge his harbour dues.'

I grinned. 'He certainly thought it! No doubt he was wrong?'

'Of course!' exclaimed Gaius Baebius. No doubt it was sometimes true.

'Would your records show whether a particular ship landed? I'm talking about the year he died, so we have to go back a bit.'

In between large mouthfuls of breakfast, Gaius Baebius addressed the subject in his slow, pedantic way. 'Is this the ship that's supposed to be missing?' More of this story must be current than people had previously acknowledged.

'The Hypericon, that's right.'

'If she did land, someone would have her listed. If not, no.'

'Good!'

'If she fully unloaded at Ostia, Ostia will have the records. If her cargo went into barges and came up to be sold at the Emporium, it would be recorded here in Rome. Festus wasn't selling through official channels though, so you probably want Ostia.'