`No. She wants to leave Florius. He had the grace to blush slightly. `Oh dear!'

`And live with you?' asked Helena.

`And marry me!'

Helena took it more stalwartly than I did. `Not a good idea?'

`Helena Justina, I am married to Arria Silvia.' Helena restrained herself from commenting on his bold claim. `I concede,' Petro went on, `Silvia may dispute that. It just shows how little Silvia knows about anything.'

Helena passed him the honey. I was expecting her to throw it at him. We kept our honey in a Celtic face-pot we had acquired when travelling through Gaul. Petro eyed it askance. Then he held it up rudely comparing the round eyed cartoon features with my own.

`So you were never serious about Milvia?' Helena grilled him.

`Not in that way. I'm sorry.'

`When men need to apologise, why can they only say it to the wrong person? And now she wants to be more important to you?,

'She thinks she is. She'll figure it out.'

`Poor Milvia,' murmured Helena.

Petronius made an attempt to look responsible. `She's tougher than she looks. She's tougher even than she thinks she is.'

Helena was wearing an expression that said she thought Milvia might turn out to be tougher – and much more trouble – than Petro himself yet realised. `I'll be going to see your wife today, Lucius Petronius. Maia's coming with me I haven't seen the girls for ages, and I have some things for them that we brought from Spain. Are there any messages?''

`Tell Silvia I promised to take Petronilla to the Games. She's old enough now. If Silvia leaves her at her mother's tomorrow, I'll pick her up and return her there.'

`Her mother's? You're trying to avoid seeing Silvia"

'I'm trying to avoid being; battered and browbeaten Anyway, if I go to the house, it upsets the cat.'

`This won't get you all back together again.'

`We'll sort it out,' snapped Petronius. Helena took a deep breath, then once again said nothing. `All right,' he told her, capitulating. `As Silvia would remark, that's what I always

say. '

'Oh, I'll keep quiet then,' Helena returned, not unkindly. `Why don't you two men talk about your work?'

There was no need. Things had taken off at last. Today we knew what we had to do, and what we hoped to learn.

'Not long afterwards I kissed the baby, kissed Helena, burped, scratched myself, counted my small change and took a vow to earn more, combed my hair roughly, and set out with Petronius. We had avoided telling Frontinus our plans. In his place we had Nux. Helena would not be taking her visiting as our dog was deadly enemies with Petro's famous cat. I didn't mind in the least if Nux savaged the flea-ridden creature, but Petronius would turn nasty. Besides, Helena did not need a guard dog if she was with, my sister Maia. Maia was more aggressive than anything they might meet on a short walk over the Aventine.

Petro and I were going the other way. We were off to Cyclops Street on the Caelian. We had to interview Asinia's friend.

Her name was Pia, but the scruffy building she lived in convinced us in advance that her lofty name would be inappropriate. Hard to tell how she had ever become friendly with anyone who gloried in Asinia's good reputation, though we had heard the relationship went back years. I was too old to worry about how girls chose their friends.

We climbed several flights of stinking stairs. A janitor with a goitre let us in, but he declined to come up with us. We passed dark doorways, barely lit by slits in the blackened walls. Dirt marked our tunics where we brushed against the render as we turned corners. Where shafts of light intruded, they were thick with motes of dust. Petronius coughed. The sound echoed hollowly, as if the building was deserted. Maybe some tycoon was hoping to drive out his remaining tenants so he could redevelop at a profit. While the place waited to be torn down, the air had filled with the dank smell of despair.

Pia, was hoping for visitors: She looked even more interested when she saw that there were two of us. We let her know we weren't buying, and she relapsed into a less friendly mood.

She was lounging on a reading couch, though apparently not for mental improvement. There was nothing to read. 'I doubted if she could. I didn't ask. She had long hair in a

strange shade of vermilion, which – she probably called auburn. Her eyes were almost invisible amongst dark circles of charcoal and coloured lead. She looked flushed. It wasn't good health., She wore a short undertunic in yellow and a longer, flimsier outer one in a nasty burnt turquoise; the outer garment had holes in it, but she had not stopped wearing it. Gauzes don't come cheap. Every finger was horribly ringed, seven greenish chains choked her scrawny neck, she had bracelets, she had base metal charms on fragile ankle chains, she had jingling ornaments in her tresses. Pia overdid everything except taste.

Still, she could be a warm-hearted honest poppet: for all that.

'We want to, talk about Asinia.' `Sod off the pair of you,' she said.

THIRTY ONE

`You like a challenge; you can start,' I told Petronius. 'No; you're the expert with unpleasant hags,' he courteously replied.

`Well, you choose,' I invited Pia. `Which of us?'

`Stuff you both.' She stretched her legs, letting us see them. It would have been better if they had been cleaner and not so sturdy in the knee.

`Nice pins!' Petronius lied in his light, admiring tone. The one they believed for about three seconds before they noticed it came with a sneer.

`Get lost.'

`Play us a new tune, darling.'

`How long did you know Asinia?' I threw in. Petronius and I would share the questioning between us and it was my turn now.

`Years and years.' Despite her bluster she could not resist answering.

`How did you first meet?'

`When she was serving in the shop.'

`The chandlery? Were you sent there shopping?' I had guessed, though refrained from saying, that Pia was a slave at the time. She must be independent now, though hardly in funds.

`We liked a chat.'

`And to go to the Games together?'

`No harm in that.'

`No harm at all – if you really went.'

`We did!' It came out fast and indignant. So far the tale was true.

`Did Asinia have a boyfriend?' Petronius took over. `Not her.'

`Not one she hadn't told even you about?'

`I'd like to see her try. She 'couldn't keep a secret, that one. Not that she ever wanted to.'

`She loved her husband?'

`More fool her. Have you met him? He's a weed,'

`His wife is missing. It's understandable.' Wasting his breath, Petronius reproved the girl, while she Just wound' her grubby fingers annoyingly- in her tousled hair. `So nobody came with you, and Asinia didn't meet anyone afterwards? Then you'd better talk about what happened when you came out from the Circus.'

'Nothing happened.'

`Something happened to Asinia,' I said, taking over again.

'Nothing's happened to her.' `She's dead, Pia.' `You're fooling me.';

`Somebody killed her and cut her up in bits. Don't worry; we'll find her, gradually, though it may take a few years.'

She had gone pale; She looked far away. Obviously; Pia was thinking It could have been me!

Petronius, resumed harshly: `Who did she meet, Pia?'

`Nobody.'

`Don't lie. And don't be afraid we'll tell Caius Cicurrus. We can be discreet, if need be. We want the true story.' Whoever Asinia took off with is a dangerous killer; only you can get him stopped.'

`Asinia was a good girl.' We said nothing. `She really was,' Pia insisted. `She didn't go; off with, anyone; I did, I met someone. Asinia said she'd go; home.'

`Here?'

`No. I needed to bring my man back here, stupid! She was going back to her own place.'