'What prosecutor was going to produce multiple tonnage of metal in open court?' I asked. 'We all knew the ingots existed. There were documents to prove it: the Praetorian Guards had stacked them, and the victor of Jerusalem won't need me to tell him that the first thing military conscripts are taught is to count everything they handle...'

Titus smiled tolerantly. He was willing me to explain the charge away. I was not naive. I knew why it probably suited the Empire to set me loose: Titus and his father must have some real pig of a problem they wanted me to solve for them.

'I suppose,' Anacrites suggested heavily, 'you intended to repay the money from selling the ingots? Or have you blown away your profits on women and drink?'

I looked shocked. Just one woman (Helena Justina); though on holiday in Campania she and I, and a nephew of mine, and Petronius Longus, and Petro's wife and family, had freely eaten and drunk the Treasury's cash, using my imperial mission as our excuse. 'Don't blame me for the delay, Anacrites! Being thrust into the Lautumiae hampered me unfairly-though I did make use of my few days of freedom to see my banker on the very subject of transferring funds to the Privy purse...'

'Good news!' Titus sounded relieved. Having to write off the money was his main stumbling block to releasing me.

'I must warn you though, Caesar,' I apologised swiftly, 'since I was selling the metal on back-door terms, the sum involved is not as great as it would have been using official franchises...'

'He's lying!' snarled Anacrites. 'I have a complete list of his assets-' A short list! 'This windbag hasn't a bean!'

So much for my banker keeping his client's confidence... Yet I knew that Anacrites had pried open my private money chest the day before I sold my racehorse; I now possessed funds he must have overlooked. Now there was no escape. Even if it ruined me I was not prepared to let a pernicious undercover agent do me down. Sighing, I kissed goodbye to Little Sweetheart (or what was left of the poor nag after my Saepta Julia spending spree).

'There is a liar in this throne room, but it's not me!' I pulled off my signet ring. 'Caesar, if you will send someone to my banker we can settle this tonight-' Suddenly suspicious, Anacrites chewed his lip.

'Spoken like an upright citizen!' Titus, embarrassed, aimed a frown at the spy while a minion took my ring away as a sanction to my financier to bankrupt me. 'That does seem to cover your charges, Anacrites!'

'True, Caesar-if the cash comes!'

'You can trust me! Mind you,' I grumbled touchily, 'I don't want to be cleared on false pretences. If this is just a gag in order to make me available for some filthy undercover mission which none of your regular Palace employees will handle, frankly I prefer jail-'

Titus soothed me, too eagerly for honesty: 'Didius Falco, there are no complications; I pronounce you a free man!'

'And a free agent?' I haggled.

'As usual!' he chipped-but then, overcome by his keenness he jumped straight in: 'So, are you free to do something for my father?'

Excellent: one bound from prison, straight back in favour. Anacrites glowered. He need not have worried. 'Love to, sir-but prison didn't suit me; I need to recuperate.' Back in favour - then straight back out in one more bound.

Titus Caesar had known me for the past four months; long enough. He became his most agreeable, always a civilised sight. 'What can I do to persuade you back, Falco?'

'Well,' I mused. 'First you could try paying me for the last mission I carried out for Vespasian...'

'And then?'

'It might help, sir, to pay me for the mission before that!'

He drew a sharp breath. 'Britain! Have you never been paid for Britain?' I looked humble. Titus barked something at a secretary standing in the shadow of his throne, then assured me that immediate arrangements would be made.

'Thank you, Caesar,' I said, letting him know I thought 'immediate' was a Palace codeword for 'indefinitely deferred'.

'Once you receive the money perhaps you will feel able to resume your official career?'

'Once I receive it!' I challenged him. 'By the way-' I leaned sideways to include Anacrites in this comment'-if today's verdict is that I should not have been in prison in the first place, can I assume you will be repaying to my elderly mother the money which she lodged with the jailor as my bail?'

The bastard was stuck; do it, or expose the fact that the jailor had accepted Mama's savings as a bribe. At present the Lautumiae staff were in the Spy's pocket and gave Anacrites the run of the cells. Naturally Anacrites wanted to preserve the status quo...

Titus told him to see to it. (Titus came from an odd family: the women respected their menfolk and the men respected their mothers.) Anacrites cast one furious glance at me, promising revenge later, and slunk off. His mother probably took one look at him when he was born, then let out a screech and abandoned him over a drain in an alleyway.

After him Proculus and Justus, with their centurion, were also dismissed. I sensed the attendants relaxing as Titus yawned and stretched; he must have saved interviewing me, like the olive in the middle of an omelette, as his last treat of the day. Then, since I was a free man and a free agent, Titus asked if I was also free to stay on at the Palatine and dine with him.

'Thanks, Caesar. This reminds me that there are some pleasant reasons why I let myself be coerced into political work!'

The chief jewel of the Empire gave me a sweet grin. 'Maybe I am keeping you on hand-in case your banker fails to send a certain sum..."

I had been right in the first place. Getting involved with politicians is complete stupidity.

Chapter XXXII

Like everyone else, I had heard that the parties Titus gave tended to be riotous, late-night affairs. People like to believe in scandal; I like to believe in scandal myself. After my second stint in prison I was ready to handle a riot at the Empire's expense, but that night on the Palatine we only enjoyed a pleasant meal with unobtrusive music and easy talk. Perhaps Titus was just a good-looking, unmarried lad who had seen in the dawn with his cronies (once or twice, when he was younger), and now he had a reputation for loose living which would be held over him whatever else he did. I sympathised. I was a goodlooking, unmarried lad myself. My own wicked reputation was so hard to shift, I didn't even try.

Before we ate I had made myself respectable in the Imperial baths, so once I was fed and comfortably wined my energy renewed and I excused myself, with the plea of work. Might as well air my new haircut around the city while the Palace barber's lotions were still exuding interesting whiffs. When he saw a slave strapping my sandals back, Titus called out, 'Falco-I have not forgotten your present, you know!'

'What present was that, Caesar?' I asked cautiously, thinking he meant the promise of work.

'To thank you for my luck at the races!' Thundering Jupiter; something else I really did not want.

That horse, Little Sweetheart, had been a mixed blessing. Titus had backed him, and I knew he was eager to demonstrate his pleasure at winning. I remembered now what my reward was to be-and I would need my most devious resources to deal with it.

'An honour and a treat, Caesar-' I lied diplomatically, adding (with less good sense) that Titus might like to drop into the Falco residence to sample a sliver... He promised he would remember (while I prayed he would forget).

My present, in case you wondered, was a fabulous fish.

I left the Palatine feeling thoughtful. Titus intended to send me a turbot.