In making these statements about my own profession, I am speaking to my disadvantage, but I want to show you how fair I am. I know that these are the opinions of many, but I hope to suggest that there is another view. I put to you that ethical informers do exist. They do valuable work, their ambition is commendable, and their motives have morality and integrity. I myself have taken up causes where I knew there would be no financial reward, merely because I believed in the principles involved. Of course you are laughing -

They certainly were. Mind you, they were all listening.

Well, that shows you what an open and honest man I am!

More laughter. With my thumbs tucked into my belt under my toga, I was grinning myself. Thinking about it, I removed the thumbs.

Perhaps the worst prejudice against informers is that they have, in the past, involved themselves in manipulating government. Fortunately, it is well known that our new Emperor, Flavius Vespasianus, abhors such -behaviour. He is famous for opposing secrecy in political circles. One of the first acts of his administration – before Vespasian himself even returned to Rome from Judaea as Emperor – was to require all senators who had acted as informers under Nero to swear a solemn oath about their past actions. Without swearing the oath, such people would no longer be acceptable in public life. Honourable men would in this way exonerate themselves from the taints of the past. But any who perjured themselves would be prosecuted – as some were…

`Objection!' Paccius was on his feet. `None of this has relevance.'

Marponius was eager to do me down – but he wanted to know what was coming. `Falco?'

`Your honour, I shall show that the accused and her family have associations with informers of the type I am now discussing. Their connection directly affects what happened to Rubirius Metellus.'

`Objection denied!'

Paccius, accustomed to unfair rulings from judges, was already resuming his seat. Was I wrong, or did he glance sideways at Silius? Certainly Silius leaned forwards as if he had a monumental stomach ache in that overfed gut.

Marponius, who normally hunched slackly, had sat bolt upright on his judicial stool. Nobody had warned him that this seemingly domestic killing might have a political dimension. Luckily, he was too dim to be frightened, though even he realised that my naming Vespasian meant the Palace would inevitably focus on his court. Paccius and Silius were now staring at Marponius as if they expected him to warn me to exercise caution.

A better judge would have stopped me.

Gentlemen of the jury, I want to take you back – briefly, let me reassure you – to those heady days immediately after Vespasian accepted imperial power. You will clearly remember the turmoil of those times. Nero's reign had disintegrated into madness and chaos. The Empire was in uproar, the city lay in ruins, people everywhere were battered and grief-stricken. Armies had trampled through the length and breadth of the provinces, some were in open rebellion. We lived through what is now called the Year of the Four Emperors – Nero, Galba, Otto, Vitellius. Then we welcomed the fatherly figure who brought us rescue from that terror -

I was concentrating on Marponius and the jury. For some reason I noticed Anacrites. He was watching with no expression. But I knew him. I was discussing the imperial family. The Chief Spy was intently noting all I said. When he reported back – as he would report, because that was his job – he would twist it to reflect badly on me.

I was a fool to do this.

You will recall that after he departed from Judaea, leaving Titus Caesar to complete the work of crushing the local rebellion, Vespasian travelled first to Egypt. In his absence, Rome was guided on his behalf by the capable duo of young Domitian Caesar and the Emperor's colleague and minister, Mucianus. It was they who assisted the Senate to address the urgent task of rebuilding a peaceful society. It had to be shown that the abuses under Nero would be fiercely nipped out. There was resentment against all those who had destroyed innocent people by making cruel accusations, especially where it had been done from motives of profit. Some wanted recriminations and punishment. The new regime rightly sought peace and conciliation, but it was necessary to show that the evil practices of the past would be ended.

In this situation, at one of the earliest sessions of the Senate a request was made for permission to examine imperial records from the time of Nero, to see which Senate members had acted as informers. This was an investigation which nobody could undertake lightly. The whole Senate had been forced to collaborate with evil prosecutions and to condemn to death those who were convicted; important men, potential holders of the highest office, would come under scrutiny for having been Nero's prosecutors – a role which, it could be argued, they had been powerless to refuse. Men of undeniable talent might be lost to the new administration if they were disgraced. The Senate might now be torn apart by revelations.

In his father's absence, Domitian Caesar wisely ruled that the requested inspection of the archives would require the Emperor's personal permission. Instead, senior members of the Senate devised an alternative. Every senator swore an oath – a serious ordeal in itself. Each swore by the gods that he had imperilled no man's safety under Nero and had received no reward or office at the expense of another's misfortune. To decline the oath was a confession of guilt. Known accusers who did take the oath were convicted of perjury.

`Objection!'

`Paccius Africanus, I have already considered this. Objection denied.'

Three prominent informers vanished from our sight for ever: Cestius Severus, Sariolenus Voccula and Nonius Attianus no longer disfigure our courts. Others could not be so certainly identified: consider Tiberius Catius Silius Italicus -

'Oh objection!'

`Silius Italicus, you are not taking part in this case. You are not entitled to speak. Objection overruled!'

As Silius grumpily slumped back in his seat, I saw Paccius lean sideways and mouth something to him. Silius then spoke in an undertone over his shoulder to a junior, the replacement for Honorius, who accompanied him to the daily court sessions. The junior rose and quietly left the hall. Anacrites watched this with great interest. I should have done.

Silius Italicus is the man who just rose and addressed the judge. Consul two years before Nero went to his death, he was thought to have prosecuted several of Nero's enemies, and to have done so voluntarily. For this he incurred general loathing. Yet later, his decency was not in question – I imagine he will make no objection to the judge when I raise this point – later he negotiated between Vitellius and Vespasian in the cause of peace. Perhaps for that reason, he was never prosecuted for perjury, so you may wonder why I have mentioned him in this section of my speech. My purpose is not to give you a history of an unpleasant aspect of the past, but to show how it affects the accused. Silius Italicus now likes to imply he has given up accusing – yet he it was who laid corruption charges against Rubirius Metellus, and in order to recoup his compensation award, he is soon to accuse Metellus Negrinus of killing his father. I was criticised for beginning this discussion of informers, but now, gentlemen, you can see why it is entirely relevant. And there is more.

Next I shall come to a person whose influence on the Metelli is even more baleful. I have named three famous informers who were tried for perjury. Now let me name another one.

`Objection!'

`Sit, Paccius.' Marponius did not even look up from his notes.

Caius Paccius Africanus – I hardly need to point out that you know him, for he has been so constantly on his feet today that his boot-mender must be expecting plenty of work -