It's all right, fruit. Something delayed us last night."

Oh I knew Gaius Baebius would look after you!" Helena Justina leaned back to inspect the bruises from the hammering I had received from Cratidas. I was home now and as an informer's girlfriend Helena had seen far worse damage. She was almost calm. Only the fierce compression of her lips spoke of hidden emotions.

So he is a pirate," she commented, fingering my sore cheek. While I was away, she must have persuaded Junia to confess what Gaius Baebius knew about Damagoras.

He says he is not." Helena Justina surveyed me with her intelligent dark eyes. Rueful thoughts were working in that clever brain. I think he is a pirate who tells lies."

That will be part of his calling. But he claims he is merely an honest, long-time retired sea captain, who wanted Diocles to help write his life history." Helena took me in her arms again. Against my neck she murmured, so the words tickled me alluringly, A pirate who lies about his past… so did he want the missing ghost-writer to fake his memoirs?" We agreed that it seemed ludicrous. But as Helena and I talked it through, we wondered if Diocles had started the project innocently to make extra cash while on holiday only to discover an unexpected story. Had Damagoras stupidly hired the wrong person? Did the scribe learn something that aroused his investigative instincts, and had he been about to expose a scandal in the Daily Gazette? That could have got him into serious trouble. Would Damagoras then have harmed the scribe? He certainly had cronies, Cratidas, for one, who could be vicious. I went back a stage. Might Diocles all along have suspected there was a story here? Did he come to Ostia deliberately, intending to expose Damagoras? I had allowed the scribe's two colleagues to fob me off regarding his motives, or their colleague might have kept them in the dark on purpose. Either way, I would have to find out for myself whatever the scribe had learned at the villa. I needed more information on Damagoras' background, and I needed it fast.

I met Petronius at the vigiles station house shortly afterwards. We had made no specific arrangements. With Junia and Gaius causing a bad atmosphere at his lodgings, I knew he would have rushed to work. I walked around to the station house, and found Petro sharing a room with the officer in charge. Petro feigned surprise at seeing me, but he was being daft. The officer heading up the Sixth's Ostia detachment was a short ex army heavy with a beard, the same caricature of leadership whom I met yesterday. The unhelpful one. I had asked his background so I knew he had been a legionary centurion and was intent on higher things. According to him he was taking the vigiles route to a post with the Praetorian Guard. No doubt it would happen. He looked like a clunk to me. He would fit in nicely. With this delight, whose name was Brunnus, Petro acted as an intermediary. I explained my interests with regard to piracy. Brunnus blustered. Well, if this villa-owner is eighty, and supposed to be retired, no wonder I couldn't find him in our lists of deviants." I refrained from reminding Brunnus that he had refused to consult the lists at all. Petronius had done it for me privately so there was no need to cause friction. I could save crushing Brunnus for later; good things, are best allowed to take their time.

What's the official stance on pirates nowadays?" I followed Petro's lead in handling the man civilly, even though I wanted to poke his vine-stick somewhere dark and personal.

No pirates exist," stated Brunnus. Officially." Petronius rephrased the question, with a peaceable smile. What's the unofficial position?"

Pirates never went away. Pirates are a filthy rash that will always reappear. But they operate out of Sicily, Sardinia, Cilicia. The vigiles are a land force, so, thank the gods, we don't have the bastards in our remit."

I can see that a retired old pirate who never leaves his seaside home would be of little interest," I suggested, but doesn't your undesirables list for Ostia include current leaders, should they come ashore?"

We have enough to do," grumbled Brunnus, guarding the corn supply and catching dockside pilferers."

No watching brief?"

The navy cover it." He was terse; I detected jealousy. Inevitably for someone so intensely ambitious, who was not an idiot, Brunnus knew more than he had said. I can suggest a naval contact with expertise," he offered. He happens to be at Portus with some of the Misenum Fleet." I remembered the three triremes I had seen there. Petronius, with his free access to chamberlains, chefs and huge dining couches, volunteered to ask the naval contact to dinner. Since Brunnus was our go-between, we ended up inviting Brunnus too. At least we were confident he would not steal the household linen; Brunnus was so keen to advance himself, he was bound to own his own dinner napkin, ready for when he was allowed to attend fancy banquets with the elite. He was not sufficiently aware to know that the real elite give you one to take away. I bet Brunnus already had a Praetorian uniform, and tried it on in secret every night. When dinnertime came, both Brunnus and the contact were late. Maybe they had wives somewhere, but away from home base they behaved like single men. I reckoned they had gone for a drink on the way here. Possibly they would go for more than one. Petro and I were soon in trouble over their casual behaviour. We were a large family party which included infants, children and other young people, all clamouring to be fed at the right time, not to mention women who grew frosty when we messed up their domestic plans. Luckily the building contractor's house had several dining rooms. While we hung about waiting for our visitors, Petronius arranged with a steward to feed the family group at once. We would have a small men-only dinner served up separately. Getting restless in our party clothes, Petro and I morosely had a drink ourselves. Brunnus arrived, solo. The naval attache must have gone for a drink on his own. The two men were less pally than we had supposed. We gave Brunnus some wine. As we picked at nuts, to make conversation I mentioned the fire that Gaius and I had passed that morning. The brusque behaviour of the men who were clearing up still bothered me.

Sounds about right!" Brunnus nodded sagely.

I was surprised the fire-fighting was not being done by the vigiles," I hinted, with one eye on Petro. I wondered if the Sixth's detachment were slackers.

If only! What you saw is standard practice in Ostia, Falco. Goes back to before the vigiles came here. Prior to us, the builders" guild always put out fires; they had the right equipment, see. They have retained the role." When I raised my eyebrows, Petronius explained further. Only for fires in domestic property."

I don't get it," I said.

There was local resentment about the Rome vigiles being stationed here. Some prefect decided we would respect sensitivities, so we let the builders" guild carry on as before, in residential areas."

I gather your landlord, Privatus, is top of the guild? Is that why he is so willing to be hospitable?" I tried to sound non-judgmental, though it seemed an awkward situation. Brunnus poured himself another silver winecup of Privatus" elegant table liquor. We don't necessarily want to cuddle up."

Problems?" I asked.

The guild can be a bit pushy," Brunnus admitted. From what I had seen of their street behaviour, that was an under statement. How powerful is this guild?"

Too powerful!" growled Petronius.

Look, Ostia is packed with craft guilds and associations," Brunnus told me. They do no harm; we tolerate them. You know how it works, the leading lights in a trade meet for dinner parties; they club together for burial funds; they raise civic statues. The wine merchants have their own forum; when I want to spend a happy afternoon, I descend to check their licences. The shipwrights are traditionally the bigges mob, but the builders are coming up fast due to all the public works contracts in and around the harbour." I could see that. Our absent host Privatus was rolling in money. This dining room opened on to a small interior garden, which was frescoed in ocean scenes. At the far end stood a grotto made from intricately patterned seashells. Floating lamps drifted among waterlilies on a long pool between the couches. I had a horrible feeling our dinner would come served on pure gold model ships.