The girls made lewd gestures and waggled their skirts offensively. They were a cheerful and appreciative audience.

Petro had done the threats so the interrogation was mine. These pieces of flotsam would faint if I tried sophisticated rhetoric so I kept it simple. `What's the story?'

The leader hung his head. `You've got to stop making a fuss about blockages in the fountains.'

`Who gave out that dramatic edict?'

`Never mind.',

`We do mind. Is that it?'

`Yes.'

`You could have said it without starting a scrum.'` `You jumped one of my boys.' `Your wormy sidekick threatened me.' `You've hurt his neck!''

`He's lucky I haven't wrung it. Don't come around this part of the Aventine again.'

I glanced at Petro. They had no more to tell us, and we might get legal complaints if we bruised them too badly, so we told the leader to stop moaning, then, dusted off his trio, of backers and ordered them all off our patch.

We allowed a few moments for them to mutter about us in a huddle once they had turned the corner: Then we set off unobtrusively to tail, them home.

We should have worked out for ourselves where they were going. Still, it was a good practical exercise. Since they had no idea of keeping watch, it was simple to stroll along after them. Petronius even turned off once to buy a stuffed pancake, then he caught: me up. We went down the Aventine, around the Circus and into the Forum. Somehow this was no surprise.

As, soon as they reached the office of the Curator of Aqueducts Petro threw what was left of his snack into a gutter and we speeded up. We marched in; the four goons had vanished. I approached a scribe. `Where are the officers who just came in? They told us to follow them.' He nodded to a door. Petro whipped it open; we both strode through.

Just in time. The four dummies had started complaining to a superior; he had realised we would have followed them, and was on his feet to throw a bolt across the door. Seeing it was too late, he suavely pretended he had jumped up to greet us, then ordered his pitiful group of enforcers to leave. There was no need for introductions. We knew this fellow: it was Anacrites.

`Well, well,' said he.

`Well, well!' we retorted.

I turned to Petro. `It's our long-lost shipwrecked brother,' `Oh I thought it was your father's missing heir?'

`No, I made sure I had him exposed on a really reliable mountainside. He's bound to have been eaten by a bear' `So who's this?'

`I think it must be the unpopular moneylender we're going to hide in a blanket chest before we lose the key For some reason Anacrites was failing to appreciate our banter. Still, no one expects a spy to be civilised. Taking pity on his head wound,' we pretended to stop ganging up on him, though the sheen on his brow and the wary look in those half-closed grey eyes told us he still thought we were looking for a chance to hold him upside-down in a bucket of water until we stopped hearing choking sounds.

We took possession of his room, tossing scrolls to one side and shoving the furniture about. He decided not to make a fuss. There were two of us, one large and both very angry. Anyway, he was supposed to be sick.

`So why. are you threatening us about our innocent curiosity?' demanded Petronius. `You're scaremongering.'

`What we've discovered is cause for alarm!'

`There's no reason for disquiet.'

`Every time I hear that,' I said, `it turns out to be some devious official telling me lies.'

`The Curator of Aqueducts takes the situation seriously.' `That's why you're skulking here in his office?' `I've been co-opted on special assignment.' `To clean out the fountains with a nice little sponge?' He looked hurt. `I'm advising the Curator, Falco.' `Don't waste your time. When we came to report that there were corpses blocking the current, the bastard didn't want to know.'

Anacrites regained his confidence. He assumed the gentle, self-righteous air of a man who had stolen our job. `That is how it works in public service, friend. When they decide to hold an investigation they never use the man who first alerted them to the problem. They distrust him; he tends to thinks he's the expert and to hold crackpot theories. Instead they bring in professional.'

`You mean an incompetent novice who has no real interest?'

He smirked triumphantly.

Petronius and I exchanged one frigid look, then we leapt to our feet and were out of there.

We had lost our enquiry, to the Chief Spy. Even on sick leave Anacrites carried more clout than the pair of us. Well, that was the end of our interest in assisting the state.

We could busy ourselves with private clients instead.

Besides, I had just remembered something terrible: I had come out without Julia. Dear gods, I had left my three-month old daughter completely alone in a rough area of the Aventine, in an empty house.

`Well, that's one way to avoid carrying a baby and looking unprofessional,' Petro said.

`She'll be all right – I hope. What's worrying me is that Helena will probably be back by now and she'll know what I've done -'

It was too hot to run. Still, we made it back home at the fastest possible gentle trot.

When we took the stairs, it soon became clear that Julia was safe and now had plenty of company. Women's voices conversed indoors at what seemed a normal pace. We exchanged a glance that can only be called thoughtful, then we sauntered in looking as if in our honest opinion nothing untoward had happened.

One of the women was Helena Justina, who was now feeding the baby. She said nothing. But her eyes met mine with the degree of scorching heat that must have melted the wings off Icarus when he flew too near the sun.

The other was an even fiercer proposition: Petro's estranged wife Arria Silvia.

FIFTEEN

`Don't bother looking. I haven't brought the children.' Silvia wasted no time. She was a tiny spark, as neat as a doll. Petronius used to laugh at her as if she just had a vigorous character; I thought her completely unreasonable. Gripping her hands together tightly she mouthed, `In an area like this you don't know what types they might meet.' Silvia had never minded being rude.

`They are my children too.' Petronius was the paterfamilias. Since he had acknowledged the three girls at birth they belonged to him legally if he wanted to be difficult he could insist they lived with him. Still, we were plebs. He had no means of looking after them, as Silvia knew.

`That's why you abandoned them?'

`I left because you' ordered me to.'

Petro's very quietness was working Silvia into a rage. He knew exactly how to drive her wild with restraint. `And is that a surprise, you bastard?'

Silvia's rage was increasing his stubbornness. He folded his arms. `We'll sort it out.'

`That's your answer to everything!'

Helena and I had carefully stayed neutral. I would have kept it that way, but since there was a lull Helena inserted sombrely, `I'm sorry to see you two like this.'

Silvia tossed her head. She went in for the untamed mare attitude. Unfortunately for Petro it took more than a handful of carrots to calm her down. `Don't interfere, Helena.'

Helena assumed her reasonable expression, which meant she wanted to hurl a bowl of fruit at Silvia. `I'm just stating a fact. Marcus and I always used to envy your loving family life.'

Arria Silvia stood up. She had a secretive smile that Petronius had probably once; thought enthralling; today she was using it as a bitter weapon. `Well, now you see what a fraud it was.' The fight died in her, in a manner I found worrying. She was leaving. Petronius happened to be standing in her way. `Excuse me.'