`Objection!' intervened Marponius wittily. `The private expectations of the defender's boot-mender have no obvious connection with the case. Unless you are proposing to call the cobbler as a witness -'

`I withdraw the comment, your honour.'

`Well, no need to go that far, Falco.' I could see my friend Petronius chortling as Marponius indulged himself. `We like a good joke in the murders court – though I have heard you do better.'

`Thank you, your honour. I shall try to improve the quality of my humour.'

`I am obliged to you. Continue!'

Let me sketch something of this man, Paccius Africanus. He too is of very great eminence. He has served the state through all the ranks of the cursus honorum and I note, with some amusement, that when he was a quaestor he presented games dedicated to Honour and Virtue! Perhaps Honour and Virtue have been better served.

He too had been a consul, the year after Silius Italicus. Now when the senators all swore their oaths, Paccius was accused of perjury. Everyone knew he had brought about the deaths of the Scribonius brothers. Paccius had pointed them out to Nero as famous for their wealth and therefore ripe for destruction; at the behest of Nero's obnoxious freedman Helius, the brothers were tried and condemned for conspiracy. Perhaps there really had been a conspiracy. If so, which of us today would think that a conspiracy against the infamous Nero was wrong? Paccius and his colleagues would incur our hatred just as much for revealing it, if the plot were genuine. What is certain is that the Scribonii died. Nero grabbed their wealth. Paccius Africanus presumably received his own reward.

When he was called to account in the Senate, Paccius could only fall silent, cowed, daring neither to confess nor to admit his actions. It is a measure of the times that one of his most persistent and damaging hecklers in the Senate that day was also an informer, Vibius Crispus – on whom Paccius then roundly turned, pointing out that Vibius had been an accomplice in the very same case, prosecuting the man who was supposed to have hired out his house for the purposes of the alleged conspiracy. Those who had made a living from targeting victims were now targeting each other. What a terrible picture it makes.

In the event, Paccius Africanus was convicted of perjury. He was then forcibly ejected from the Curia. Yet he has never been stripped of his senatorial rank. Now he endeavours to rehabilitate himself by quiet work in a special court. Perhaps you have noticed how at home he seems to be here in the Basilica Julia; that is because it is his frequent workplace. Paccius is an expert in cases which involve inheritance trusts. He operates in the trusts court which normally meets in this very hall, the court relating to fideicommissum. And that, we shall see, is not just relevant but peculiarly significant.

Paccius was on his feet again. He had learned: `Your honour, we are hearing a lengthy speech of great importance. Clearly it will continue for some time yet. May I request a short adjournment?'

Big mistake. Marponius remembered that his rabbit pie yesterday had caused a pain in his gut. Today, he was giving Xero's pie shop a miss.

`I am perfectly comfortable. It seems a shame to interrupt such an interesting oration. I would hate to disturb the flow. How about you, Falco?'

`If your honour allows me to continue, I shall be content to do so.'

Gentlemen, I am about to address why the connection with Paccius Africanus affects the accused. I shall speak for no more than half an hour.

When Silius Italicus charged Rubirius Metellus with corruption, Paccius Africanus stepped in to defend Metellus. You may perhaps suppose that it was the first time Paccius had any influence on the family. Not so. Rubirius Metellus had already made his will. He had written and deposited it two years before the corruption charges. Paccius Africanus was the expert who drafted it. That was the famous, very brutal testament in which Metellus disinherited his only son and his wife, leaving them no more than tiny allowances. The bulk of his estate was left, through that type of trust which we call a fideicommissum, to his daughter-in-law, Saffia Donata, of whom my colleague spoke to you previously. Not being allowed to inherit, she was to receive her fortune as a gift from the appointed heir. Now listen to this, please: the appointed heir was Paccius Africanus.

At this point the jury could no longer contain themselves: a gasp ran around the Basilica.

I am not an expert in such matters, so I can only speculate on the reasons for this arrangement. You, like me, may very well think it significant that someone who was a trusts expert, who worked in the trusts court on a daily basis, should advise Metellus to use this device – and to nominate himself as its instrument. When I first saw the provision, I can tell you my thought was that informers have a bad reputation for chasing legacies and that this was an example. I believed Paccius Africanus must have set this up so he would in some way obtain all the money himself. Of course I was wrong about that. The holder of a legacy which is governed by a trust will have promised to pass over the money to the intended recipient – and a person of honour will always do so. Once Metellus died, Paccius would obtain the Metellus wealth, but give it to Saffia Donata. Paccius, as the famous saying goes, is an honourable man. I believe it, gentlemen, despite what I have told you about his stricken silence when asked to swear the oath denying harm to others.

I can see two curiosities, as I will call them, arising from the very particular conditions in our case. I apologise to Paccius for mentioning them; no doubt when he comes to make his speech for the defence he will explain. He is an expert in this field and will understand everything.

To me, however, it looks rather odd that two years after he advised Metellus on this will -with its strange provisions- it was Paccius Africanus who, in the aftermath of the corruption case, told Metellus that he should commit suicide. Suicide had the specific aim of safeguarding the family wealth – wealth which in form at least had been bequeathed to Paccius. This result was no doubt a sad quirk of Fate, one which cannot possibly have been what Paccius originally intended; he was an ex-consul and pillar of Roman life (even though, as I have told you, he had once been forcibly removed from the Senate for perjury). To have planned something devious regarding the will, he would have had to know, at the time it was written, that corruption charges were to be laid by his colleague Silius Italicus in two years' time. It was surely impossible for him to have known that. For one thing, everybody reckons that Paccius and Silius have a feud.

I must say if this is right, in my experience it is a rather civilised feud. I have seen them in the Porticus of Gaius and Lucius taking morning refreshments at a pavement bar like long-term friends and colleagues. I suspect they dine together formally, which you would expect in two men of distinction, fellow ex-consuls from adjacent years, who have so many elements in common from their past. After the informing oath, they have both been accepted back as members of the Senate – even the evicted Paccius is now restored as a member – and both must be waiting impatiently to see what further honours will be bestowed upon them. They have too much in common to ignore each other. You, gentlemen, have seen them sitting close together in this court, even though Silius plays no part in our trial. You have seen them talking together during adjournments and even exchanging notes during the speeches. We can all say, these men are close. But that does not entitle us to believe they were part of some carefully planned, drawn-out conspiracy to plunder the Metelli, its plot put together at wine bars in a porticus over several years.