`Coo!' said Titus. `That's it then!'

`Give us a chance, boy. `Perfectionist,' Petro told the lad, nodding sagely.

`See, it's all slopping to one side. Give us that stone you found, our Gaius' 'I was wedging the upper tier, so the water flowed more evenly. `Now young Titus, this is our Gaius and me: we use a stone to set you right. Other people poke in a bit of stick, and that's deliberate. Eventually wood rots away, so they have to be called in again. But Gaius and me, when, we mend a fountain, that's the last you ever see of us.''

Titus nodded, easily impressed by trade secrets. He was a bright lad. I could see him thinking he could make use of this expertise himself.

I was packing up our toolbag. `So why's this Damon so fond of going up to Rome then?'

The lad looked round in all directions to make sure he wasn't overheard.

`After the women, isn't he?' replied Titus, showing off with special knowledge of his own.

But we knew we were probably not looking for a ladies' man. Especially not a married one, or the rural slave equivalent. Petronius Longus agreed with me Damon wanted to get away from the cook because she knew he couldn't drive a straight marital course, so she nagged him. I gave Petro a look. This was a situation he knew all about. He accepted the look with a filthy scowl, and we gave up mending fountains for the day.

We gave up in Tibur altogether, in fact, since time was against us. The next morning we packed up and started back to Rome. It seemed as if we had made no progress, though I felt sure we had improved on our background information to the point where if the killer made a move he would be lucky not to give himself away. And, although Damon was not an ideal suspect, he might just fit the bill. I had acquired a farm too. It would be the bane of my life, but now I could call myself a man of property.

The first person we saw when we struggled home to the Aventine was my nephew, the real Gaius. He was in a fine bate. `Well, you've really let me down!' he raged. Gaius could lather himself up like a dying horse. I had no idea what he was on about. `You're a fine friend, Uncle Marcus -'

Helena had gone indoors to feed the baby while I was still unpacking the donkey that had brought our luggage. `Calm down and stop yelling. Hold' this -'

`I'm not doing your dirty work!'

`Suit yourself'

He calmed down, seeing me unmoved. He had the family trait of never wasting effort, so subsided into a typical dark, Didius sulk. He looked like my father; I hardened my;heart. `I've:got a lot to do here, Gaius if you shut up and help, I'll

hear your complaint afterwards. If not, trot off and annoy someone else.'

Reluctantly Gaius stood still while I loaded him up with baggage until he could hardly stagger up the steps to our apartment. Under the strut and bluster lurked a good little worker. Not for the first time I realised I would have to do something about him, and soon. Thinking about my Tibur nettle patch suggested a possible answer. What he needed was to be plucked from the wild streetlife he led. Maybe I could send him to the family farm. Great-Auntie Phoebe had a long history of mollifying daft young boys, and I could trust Gaius to stand up staunchly to the vagaries of my peculiar uncles, Fabius and Junius. I said nothing at this stage. His mother, my ridiculous sister Galla, would have to be allowed to vent her disgust at any sensible plan I put up. Then there was Lollius, of course; well, I looked forward to running rings around Lollius…

As I followed Gaius into the house I sighed. I had only been home five minutes, yet the burdens of domesticity already had me feeling cornered.

`Will you give me some money to take your donkey back to the stable, Uncle Marcus?'

`No, I won't.'

`Yes, he will,' said Helena. `What's upsetting you, Gaius?'

'I was promised a job here,' stated my nephew indignantly, `I was going to earn some money looking after the baby. I'll be sent back to school soon.'

`Don't worry,' I told him' glumly. `The school holidays have another two weeks to run yet.' Gaius never had any real idea of time.

`Anyway, I'm not going any more when I'm fourteen.'

`Fine. Tell your grandma not to waste any more money on the fees.'

`I'm leaving on my birthday.'

`Whatever you say, Gaius.'

`Why aren't you arguing?'

'I'm tired. Now listen, the Augustales are about to start and I have a lot of hard night-observation coming up. Helena will be glad to have your help with the baby. I dare say she

would welcome company during the day too, but you'll have to be quiet if I've come home to sleep.'

`Are you going to explain to your baby that she's not to cry?' As a prospective nursemaid, Gaius had a nice sarcastic attitude. `What's the observations for?'

`To catch this maniac who's putting bits of women in the water supply.'

`How will you do that, then?' Like all my relatives Gaius viewed my work with incredulity, astounded that anyone was crazy enough to employ me, or that the tasks I undertook could ever furnish real results.

'I have to stand outside the Circus Max until; he comes along and nabs one.' Put like that, my family's mockery seemed reasonable. How could I ever expect this to work?'

`Then what?'

`Then I'll nab him.'

'I'd like to see that! Can I help?'

`No, it's far too dangerous,' said Helena firmly. `Oh, Uncle Marcus!'

`If you want to earn some pocket money, you'll do what Helena tells you. She holds the keys here, and she does the accounts.'

`She's a woman.'

`She can add up.' I grinned at her.

`In more ways than one,' she commented. `Come and eat, you pair of rascals.'

Grudgingly, Gaius agreed to sit-down at the table and tuck in. Seduced by the unusual experience of a family dinner, something Galla and Lollius had never been known to provide for their children, he finally remembered he had a message to deliver to Helena: `Your brother came to see you yesterday.'

'Quintus? The tall friendly one? Camillus Justinus?' `Probably. He said to tell you he's been, sent away for his health.'

Helena looked, alarmed. `What does that mean. Is he ill?'

Gaius shrugged his thin shoulders under his dirty tunic. `I think it was a kind of joke. I was kipping on your porch, waiting for you to come home again.'

At the thought of the unloved scallywag hanging around our house pathetically, Helena winced. `Did you talk to my brother?'

`He sat down with me on the steps and we had a nice chat. He's not bad. But he was very depressed.'

Tired after the journey, Helena rubbed her eyes and then gazed at my nephew with her chin in both hands. `What made him depressed, Gaius?'

`He was talking to me in private -'Catching Helena's eye, my nephew writhed uncomfortably. But he owned up, looking embarrassed. `Well, love, and all that stuff."

I laughed. `Well there's a lesson for you. That's what happens to young men who foolishly dally with actresses.'

Helena Justina filled a new food bowl for my nephew, looking thoughtful. Then, since she knew how to prevent squabbling, she filled another bowl for me.'

The Games in honour of the late Emperor Augustus begin on the third day in October. Two days later is a mythical date for the opening of the gates to Hades; I was hoping that by then we would have a villain caught and ready to send down there. Immediately before the Games came a black day in the calendar, the traditional bad luck day following the Kalends, the first of the month. We had reasoned that the superstitious would avoid travelling on a black day so they would come to Rome for the festival on the Kalends instead. To be absolutely, sure we were in place in time, we actually set up our watch the day before.