`Trust me then!' she snapped. Then she softened and offered her cheek for a formal kiss of greeting; I gave her a meek peck. As I drew back her face changed, crumpling slightly as if everything was becoming too much for her… 'Oh stop being stupid and hold me tight!' she cried.

Reprieve.

`Actually,' she said, once I had hugged her fiercely and taken her indoors, `I was trying to save a child.' I received the rebuke like a man, hiding my wince. `The people who have Tertulla sent another message yesterday -'

`Yesterday?'

`I wanted to discuss it, Marcus; you gave me no chance!' Apprehensive and annoyed with myself, I managed to signal – yet another apology. Even I was growing bored with being abject. Helena growled, then herself owned up, `I decided I must do something, for the child's sake.'

`Note the calm manner in which I hear this news, Helena.' `Full credit for an understanding nature.' She could tell I was boiling over with anxiety.

`So instead of alerting the vigiles, you brought a couple of female bodyguards and came to ransom the child yourself?' `What choice did we have?'

`Knowing the address they work from, Petro could have mounted a raid.'

`They would have hidden the child and denied all knowledge. I'm not some frightened magistrate; I was going to report them once we had got Tertulla back.'

I kept my voice level. `So you gave them the money and of course they kept the bargain?' I had seen no sign of Tertulla.

Helena shook her head despondently. `No. I kept the money. They told me she's not there.'

`They were lying. They realised you're a tough customer who, will land them in court.'

`I don't think so. They wanted the money. They were annoyed themselves. They say Tertulla must have run away. They can't find her anywhere. I did believe them; they even let us search -'

I was horrified. `In the brothel?'

We were both silent for a while. Bravery had always been Helena's strongest quality, but I knew what she must have undergone. Since she had escaped unscathed, there was no point screaming over it. `The Fates only know where Tertulla has got to. Are you angry, Marcus?'

`No, but dear gods, it's my turn now to be held tight!'

Time was passing. In the city streets a new, more bustling mood took over as the evening activity began. Men had bathed. The sleek and the sleazy were leaving their homes and their places of business. This lane was growing darker; not many lamps ever burned around here.

I would have to send Helena home soon. Now we had settled down, I was enjoying our short time together. I needed her. Being alone with Helena refreshed me. Even in a tense situation I could

open up, be frank, put aside the caution that must always be present with anyone else. While I was on duty with Martinus, I had to disguise my own intentions and to stalk his ambition. With Helena I soon felt clear-headed again.

`I suppose,' I ventured thoughtfully, `you didn't see a man with a balding pate and self-deluding eyes, who looks as if he, sells embroidery that will fall apart?'

`I tried to avoid the men.' I bet plenty of men stared at her.

`Oh good! A girl who ignores brothel etiquette.'

`Do you want me to go back and try to spot this man?' she asked. Always keen for adventure. The thought made me sweat with anxiety.

Luckily my stomach gave an enormously loud rumble. I confessed how little I had eaten that day. Helena Justina decided that although looking in the brothel for Balbinus would be a boon to the state, it had been superseded by her domestic responsibilities. She marched off to buy me some food.

As I ate, Helena was adding details to the map I had drawn. Martinus came back while I was still working through her lavish supplies, but I continued to munch without a conscience. Martinus had been missing so long I had a good idea the deputy had shamelessly found himself a full dinner before he visited Rubella. `So what's the tribune going to do for us?'

`Bad news, Falco. Rubella's sole interest is the fact that this street lies in the Sixth Cohort's empire.'

`He wants to bring them in? That's ridiculous. I don't trust the Sixth.'

`Well, Rubella intends to discuss things with the Prefect before he'll authorise a raid -'

`Rubella's a fool.'

`His plan is to go in tomorrow.'

`That's a plan I'd like if it was tonight.'

Helena was still sitting. quietly at my side. `What about Petronius?' she asked.

`Oh hadn't you heard?' Martinus looked quite cheerful, so I knew it would be bad news. `He's off watch. There was an attack on the patrol house yesterday night. The fire-watchers were all out on a false alarm, but the chief was in there working. Someone rammed the joint with the old "runaway cart" trick – a cart full of rocks and rubble. Brought down half the doorway, but the back part of the building stood up to it and Petronius escaped injury. Rubella reckons it was a direct attempt to get, the chief. He thinks Balbinus was behind it, so he's declared Petro sick and sent him to the country.'

`He won't take kindly to that.'

`He handed in his resignation.'

`Oh Jupiter!' For a calm man, my friend could do some pigheaded things.

Martinus grinned. `Rubella broke the tablet in half and handed it straight back.' The tribune had some sense then. But it meant tackling Plato's without our best man. `While I was on the Aventine I did speak to a few of the lads,' hinted the deputy.

`What does that mean?'

'Sergius and four or five others may be along later.'

`Four or five? Out of the question,' I replied at once. `We can't go into Plato's without saturation coverage. Tell them not to bother.'

`Tell them yourself!' retorted Martinus. He sounded petulant. Then someone tapped discreetly on the counter and I found myself looking into the ridiculously handsome face of the whip man, Sergius. He had a long head, with a strong nose and chin, and flashing, even teeth. He was staring at Helena; she fixed her attention on counting the olive stones I had left after my repast.

Events were moving faster than I liked. They were out of control. With a thug like Balbinus that could have fatal results.

Behind Sergius were several other men from the Fourth. At least now I knew that Petro had been sent on a goat-grazing holiday I could forget that they might have sneaked here in some mood of disloyalty to him. They were defying Rubella; I could allow that.

What I would not accept was any kind of crackbrained exercise against orders, without planning or backup, and really without a full reconnaissance. I was determined to resist Martinus on this. Not that my common sense came to anything. The lads, as he called them (though they were large, fit and ugly apart from Sergius), had piled into the Oil Jug like schoolboys invading a pastry shop. I was groaning and trying to say goodbye to Helena, so it was Sergius who spotted the development. He hissed, and quickly snuffed our lamp.

I heard the noise he had noticed. Two pairs of feet walking briskly in concert, accompanied by the disturbing chinks of heavy chains. They came from the direction of the Circus. The feet stamped with a cheerful energy in thick-soled, businesslike boots.

The men those feet carried so purposefully were known to most of us. They were Tibullinus and Arica, the centurion and his sidekick from the Sixth – two upstanding officers whom we all believed were taking bribes. They were marching into Plato's like conquering hunters, carrying on their shoulders a long pole of spoils. Suspended from the pole in chains was a male figure I recognised.

`Oh gods!' murmured Martinus. `I forgot to tell him we're the Fourth. He's gone and taken his damned chitty to the Sixth.'

The trussed man was Igullius. He looked alive – but only just.