Meanwhile," I agreed, there will be awful legates" awful daughters holding orgies with the charioteers at the Consualia Games, and senators-elect going up the skirts of the priestesses at the Temple of Virgin Diana like geckos under rocks."

While for light relief Infamia will say that the rumour is false that pirates are operating again off the Tyrrhenian coast." I laughed.

No, that was real," Helena said. Then she laughed too. The one thing every Roman schoolchild knows is that the seas were all cleared of pirates a hundred years ago by Pompey the Great. My old teacher, Apollonius, used to add thoughtfully that fewer people remember how Pompey's own son, Sextus Pompeius, a contender for the highest seat of power, then lured some of the same pirates from peaceful retirement and joined with them to cause upheaval, during his quarrels with Augustus. One place the noble Sextus and his colourful cronies had then raided was Ostia. Their stay on land, with its merciless rape and thoroughly well organised pillage, remained a horrific folk memory.

Don't let's get too excited, love. Not if Infamia says the pirate rumour is false."

True." Helena dug me in the ribs teasingly. But there are all kinds of shorthand ways to make insinuations in the scandal reports." Now we were back to flute-playing. And it was giving me ideas.

Beset by family, I needed escape. We informers are tough men. Our work is grim. When not treading a solitary path, we like to be surrounded by other grim, tough men who feel that life is filthy, but that they have mastered it. I sought fellow professionals. I went to visit the vigiles. A weary group was hauling back a siphon engine after a fire last night. Begrimed and still coughing from the smoke, they trundled in listlessly through the tall gate of the squadron house. A couple dragged charred esparto mats. These seem crude, but used in quantity they can suffocate a small blaze, long before water can be fetched. One squat soul with meeting eyebrows, who must have been on punishment duty, was laden with everyone's axes and crowbars, and had all their ropes slung around him in diagonal coils; the others were joshing him as he dropped his load just inside the entrance and collapsed. They clanged down their empty fire buckets, and straggled off to wash. Ex slaves to a man, they were used to exhaustion, dirt and danger. Each knew that if he survived for six years, he would receive a diploma of citizenship. Quite a few did not survive. Of those who did, some madmen would even choose to stay on afterwards. Self-preservation took second place to the free meals and camaraderie. And maybe they liked roughing up the populace while on the crime roster. I followed them inside. Nobody challenged me. Somewhere there should be an officer of the day, like Petro an ex-legionary who wanted a secure job with a few thrills and plenty to moan about. He was invisible. I could hear the troopers exchanging insults as they cleaned up indoors, but the parade ground was deserted. It added to the impression that detached duty out at Ostia was the free-and-easy option. I walked around the porticoes in the heavy shade cast by the barrack-like buildings. In one of the rooms a handful of prisoners, burglars captured during the night watch, were being processed by a wizened clerk. He kept them subdued by his competent personality. When I coughed, he looked up from his charge sheet; he knew me and when I enquired about applicants, he suggested I might find Rusticus three rooms down.

Who's he?"

Recruiting officer. Your lucky day. He comes once in two weeks, Falco." I had not reminded the clerk of my name. Rusticus will find time for you. He's never busy." Rusticus had taken over a cold office, outside which he had hung a slate with a picture of a stick-man and an arrow to say. Enter here. Fresh from Rome, he kept up appearances. He was awake. There was no visible evidence of him eating his lunch or playing board games. He had unpacked a scroll for oaths of allegiance even though he had no one queuing. He would need an officer to witness any enlistment; I guessed he had one on call. Whimsically, he pretended to think I was an applicant. He gave me the open-faced grin of welcome, though I noticed he did not bother to pick up his stylus. He knew perfectly well I had some other errand. At thirty-six, I was too old, for one thing. I had a well-exercised body that had seen too much action for me to volunteer for more. My laundered oatmeal tunic with bilberry braid was a custom fit, my dark curls had been tamed by a half-decent barber, and I had treated myself to a professional bath-house manicure. Even if he failed to notice my firm gaze and tricky attitude, once I stuck my thumbs in my belt he should have seen that it was a damn good belt. Visible on my left hand was a gold equestrian ring. I was a free citizen, and I had been promoted by the Emperor to the middle rank.

The name's Falco. Friend of Petronius Longus." Petro was in the Fourth Cohort. Rusticus must be from another, though not necessarily the Sixth who were currently on duty here. He conceded, Yes, Petronius Longus has supervised enrolments with me."

A good lad."

Seems it. What are you after, Falco?" I sat down on a spare stool. It was lower than his, so nervous recruits would feel vulnerable as they pleaded to join. This basic ploy failed to worry me. I am making official enquiries about a man who has gone missing from a palace secretariat." Although official" was pushing it, the Daily Gazette was a palace mouthpiece and the scribes would pay me from public funds.

I'm surprised they noticed!" Rusticus and I were not friends yet. I thought we would never be. But he took an interest.

Quite. Rusticus, this may be a false lead, but someone has told me my fellow recently tried to join the vigiles. His name is Diocles. If he gave a falsie, of course, I am stuck." Rusticus shrugged, then he leaned back on his stool, arms folded. He made no move towards the scroll in which newly enlisted recruits were formally recorded; he did not even look at it. Diocles? I turned him down." Obviously nobody much was rushing to join up in Ostia. I kept that to myself. Can you recall the circumstances?" He pursed his lips. He could not resist playing with an informer. I do remember, because unless he only has one leg, no, we took a Moesian amputee once, and he hopped around brilliantly, until he fell through a floor, turning one down is a rarity."

Something not right about him?" Rusticus took his time again. Diocles. Thin fellow. Unobtrusive sort of maggot. He trotted in, and he had all the patter. Had been a slave but was manumitted. Had forgotten to bring his certificate, but would be able to produce it. Wanted a new life, with a chance of citizenship and the corn dole. Even said he wanted to serve the Empire. Some of them regard being a patriot as a recommendation, though personally I find it more natural if they are trying to get free dinner and fun with flames." A cynic. I grinned my appreciation. Maybe he warmed up slightly. Or not. I decided he was just an unpleasant bastard.

Was he too old?"

I think he said thirty-eight. Not too far gone if they are tough."

So why did you reject him?"

No idea." Rusticus thought about it, as if amazed at himself. Palace secretariat, you say? Fits. His Latin was a touch too nice. But it was instinct on my part. Always trust instinct, Falco." I said nothing. Instinct can be a fickle friend. That significant feeling" often only means your last night's dinner has played up, or you're getting a cold sore. The recruitment officer leaned forwards suddenly. So what is the bastard? Special bloody audit?" I laughed. He thought Diocles was investigating the vigiles, some corruption enquiry. You're not far out. He's Infamia." Wasted. The vigiles never keep up with the news. He writes the scandal section of the Daily Gazette." I was taking a chance; Rusticus might now close ranks and clam up. But as a recruiter, I reasoned that he was a half-day visitor, not bonded with the Sixth. So," I said, lowering my voice, do we conclude that someone in the current detachment is thought to need scrutiny, in the public interest?" There could be a number of reasons. Swiping funds. Having perverts for playmates. Blatant inefficiency… Wrong. inefficiency does not make exciting news.