As Bolanus said, any foreign bodies from the Aqua Claudia that dropped down in that, cascade would probably be pulverised. On the other hand, they just might go bobbing away in. the current of the replenished Aqua Marcia; to be found eventually in its reservoir, like the second hand which was produced by the public slave Cordus when he replied to Petro's Forum advertisement.

Frontinus was thrilled by this sightseeing. I would not have missed it myself, come to that. We learned nothing specific, so strictly it was a wasted day. But there seemed little to be discovered in Rome either.

`Tell me when you want a guided trip out to Tibur!' Bolanus offered with a grin as we were leaving. I do like a man who can stick with a theory.

There had been no further grim discoveries. Many people now bathed, drank water, and cooked their food with hardly a thought for the consequences.

Though the absence of limbs in the aqueducts was a relief in some ways, it did mean that a man called Caius Cicurrus was left suspended in misery. Just before the Games ended, I walked out to see him. I took Helena, in case a woman's presence was consoling. Anyway, I wanted to know what she thought of him. When, a wife is murdered the husband is inevitably the first suspect. Even if there have been scores of similar deaths before, it is wiser to consider that the man may have deliberately copied them.

We went at midday in, case Cicurrus was now back running, his chandlery. We did find him at home, though it looked as if he was spending; most of his time there now and letting the shop remain closed. The same slave as before let us in. `I'm sorry, Cicurrus, I have very little to tell you. This visit is just to let you know we are still looking, and we will look until we find something. But I cannot pretend we have achieved much yet.'

He sat meekly listening. He still seemed dreamy. When I asked if he wanted to know anything, or if Frontinus could do anything to help him ''officially”, he shook his head. Sudden death causes anger and recriminations usually; they would come. At some inconvenient time, when he had too much to do, poor Caius would find himself demanding endlessly: why her? Why had Asinia walked by the route she chose that night? Why had Pia left her alone? Why Asinia and not Pia, who courted trouble so openly? Why Cicurrus himself gone to the country that week? Why had Asinia been so beautiful? Why did the gods hate him?

Not yet. So far he had been granted no formal end to the nightmare. He was caught between knowing and not knowing the exact, horrendous details of his young wife's fate.

Cicurrus indicated a brown marble casket which he said contained her embalmed hand. Thank the gods he did not offer to open it. It looked too small, more like a pen case than a reliquary. Even to us it seemed an unreal symbol of the lost Asinia.

`We are still watching the Circus Maximus every night,' I said. `On the last night of the Games there will be saturation coverage

'She was a perfect wife,' he interrupted quietly. `I cannot believe she has gone.'

He did not want to hear what we were doing. All the man really needed was to be given his wife's body so that he could hold a funeral and grieve for her. I could not help him.

After we left his house Helena Justina said nothing immediately. Then she reached her decision. `He's not involved. I think if he had killed her he would rail against the supposed murderer more dramatically. He would issue threats, or offer ostentatious rewards. When he says Asinia was perfect, his protestations, would be louder and longer. But he just sits there, hoping his visitors will soon leave him alone. He's still in shock, Marcus.' I thought; she had finished, but then Helena murmured, `Did you see the rock crystal necklace that the slave girl, was wearing? I imagine it's one which belonged to his wife.'

I was shocked. `Has she stolen it?'

`No, she was wearing it; openly.'

I was even more shocked. `Are you. telling me after all that Cicurrus had a reason to dispose of Asinia?'

`No.' Helena shook her head and smiled at me gently. `He's heartbroken; that's genuine. I'm telling you he's just a typical man.'

THIRTY SIX

As the days passed and the clues diminished we were gearing ourselves for a last night on surveillance outside the Circus Maximus' when the Games ended. Frontinus and the Prefect of the Vigiles were making it an official exercise. Every spare man was to be drawn from the watch cohorts.

I spent some time at home during that day. Helena needed rest, and I needed to be with her. Working night shifts all week helped me avoid being wakened when the baby-cried, but it left Helena with all the duties when she was already exhausted. I knew she was feeling demoralised. Julia had discovered that she could rack our, nerves to breaking point by wailing for long periods, though if either of her, grandmothers came over to see Helena the dear child stopped as soon as they picked her up. Helena was tired of being glared at as if she were either not trying or plainly incompetent.

Helena had slept all afternoon. I kept Julia quiet by a method Petro had revealed to me. It involved the baby and me snoozing in the porch together' with a cup of honeyed wine, not all of which went into Papa.

The only real interruption was a visit from that latrine-wall lizard Anacrites.

`What do you want? And keep your voice down. If you wake the baby she'll wake Helena, and if you cause that to happen I'll wring your grimy neck.'

There was no reason to suggest he failed to wash; Anacrites had always looked almost too sleek. His clothes were faintly dandified. His haircuts were suspiciously neat. He fancied himself as a looker. The only truly filthy thing about him was his character.

'How did you get yourself hitched up to a consul, Falco?'

`A good reputation and impeccable contacts.'

`That must have cost a lot to fix. Can I sit down?' `Still poorly? Have a step.'

I myself had carried out a wicker chair, in which I was sprawled with one arm around the sleeping baby. Nux, lying at my feet, filled up the rest of the tiny landing outside my apartment. Anacrites could neither step round me to go indoors and fetch out a stool, nor even reach the shade. He had to drape himself in the baking heat on the dusty stone stairs. I'm not a complete bastard. I was not trying to give the invalid another headache, just turning him into a sun-dried raisin to encourage him to leave.

I tipped my cup at him and drained it. As there was only one, he could only nod in response. Even this hint failed to work.

`Your game of draughts with Frontinus is getting in my way, Falco.'

`Oh, I am sorry!'

`There's no need to pretend.' `Irony, dear fellow.'

`Crap, Falco! Why don't we join forces?'

I knew what that meant. He was as thoroughly stuck as Petronius and me. `You want to link up, pinch any ideas we have, and claim all the credit yourself?'

`Don't be harsh.'

`I've seen you at work before.'

`I just think we are duplicating our efforts.'

`Well, maybe that gives us twice as much chance of success.' I too could sound so reasonable it made the other party squirm.

Anacrites darted to a new subject. `So what's this rumble you've got going on tonight?' His ears were well pricked, apparently. Though with all the vigiles cohorts being stretched to breaking point in order to supply us with our troops, at the Circus word was bound to filter out to any half-trained spy.

`Just some anti-vandalism measure Frontinus dreamed up.'

`How's that? He's ex-officio, apart from the water deaths enquiry.'

`Oh, is he? I wouldn't know; I, don't take much interest in politics – too murky for a simple Aventine lad. I leave all that unscrupulous stuff to suave types with Palace upbringings.' He knew I was being disingenuous – and insulting him with his inferior social status. I had never bothered to find out, but, Anacrites was bound to be an ex-Imperial slave; all Palace officials were nowadays.