He's a member of the gang, whatever he claims… Well, thank you, Virtus," I said. Tell me, is Brunnus dealing with this personally?"

He is. It doesn't tax him, Falco. There are no leads. By the time some brave husband comes to report a new abduction, it's all over. They always beg Brunnus not to have men visibly investigating. Brunnus agrees to that, because he thinks that if any victims are attacked for reporting the crime, he will cop the blame. He knows in his water he'll blunder. You have to admire it," said Virtus. Whoever planned this out is very clever."

And Brunnus is playing along with them."

Tell me something I don't know!" said his clerk. But be fair, Falco. Brunnus listens when anyone brings information direct to us, but official policy is that he should leave it all to Caninus."

So, do we trust the navy to handle this?" The clerk raised his eyebrows expressively. What, a bunch of sailors?" Armed with this new information, I went back to my apartment. It had taken me the first part of the morning to extract the kidnap notes from Virtus, long enough for some new family arrivals to reach Ostia from Rome. I saw a cart, sensibly parked under a fig tree's shade in the courtyard. Then I found my nephew Gaius, sitting on the steps, looking as if he had earache. Always keen to try new fads, he was poking at his bare chest, on which were infected needle marks from a recent foray into woad tattoos; one thing the poets don't tell you when [they extol the blue Britons is that woad stinks. I looked sick; Gaius grinned ruefully. We did not speak. Upstairs I could hear my elder daughter squealing, and from past experience I guessed she was having her hair combed and pulled into tight fancy plaits, an older generation's fad. Nux was whining in sympathy. Indoors, a large mullet was sitting on a dish I knew from home, with its tail lolling up against a well-trussed bag of leeks. Only one person I knew bought fish in Rome even though they were coming to the seaside. Only one person had access to a market garden which produced better leeks than those at Ostia.

Marcus!" cried Helena, smiling brightly. Here's a big surprise for you." As surprises go, this was eerily familiar. I shoved my note-tablet casually under a fruitbowl and braced myself. Hello, Mother."

You look as if you have been up to no good," replied Ma.

I'm working." Somehow it sounded as attractive as if I had said I was in quarantine with plague. Helena would have told Mother the details. Small, shrewd, suspicious, and convinced the world was full of cheats, my dear mother would not be impressed. My sisters and I had spent thirty years trying to fool Ma, and only managed to annoy her. It was my late brother, her favourite, who had consistently managed to deceive her; even now, Ma never acknowledged what a lying cad Festus had been. I'm so sorry to say this, Mother, when you've only just arrived, but I must flee back to Rome to follow up a lead, and I need Helena to come with me."

Lucky I came then!" my mother retorted. Somebody has to look after your poor children." I winked at Albia. Albia had met Ma before; she managed to ignore the insult to her babysitting.

So what is behind your visit?" I ventured.

You keep your nose out of other people's business, young man!" commanded Ma.

My mother was up to something, but Helena and I did not bother to investigate. We knew the answer might have worried us. We were able to travel that same afternoon. Having escaped Ma, the first person we found on returning to our house in Rome was my father. You never lose your parents. Pa was in our dining room, munching a take-away stuffed half-loaf, which had leaked purple sauce on to the couch cushions.

Who let you in?" My progenitor grinned. He had let himself in. According to Helena, my father's grin is a twin to mine, but I find it deeply irritating. I already knew that whenever we were away, my father treated our house as if it still belonged to him. We had done a house swap a couple of years before; give Pa another decade and he might actually honour it.

Marcus, tell Maia Favonia to leave that big daft friend of yours and come home to look after her poor old father's business," he wheedled. I'll tell her you said so. Maia will do what she wants, Pa."

I don't know where she gets her attitude."

I can't think either! So now you're here, when are you leaving?"

Don't be so unfriendly, lad. I heard you were in Ostia. Did your mother turn up?" My parents had not spoken to each other for nearly thirty years, since Pa ran away with a redhead. Nonetheless, each always knew what the other was up to.

Arrived yesterday. Galla's Gaius brought her; he's a right little barbarian. I wasn't with Ma long enough to work out what diddles she's planning." Pa, who was a wide-bodied, grey-haired old trickster full of deviousness himself, looked pleased. Oh, I know. She heard her brother has slunk ashore at Portus."

Who, Fabius orjunius?" My two uncles from the family farm took it in turns to abscond in a huff, often over woman troubles, always due to some huge slight involving the other brother. They each liked to hone grand, embarrassing schemes for a new life, mad ideas like becoming a gladiator or running a cuttlefish firm. [That was Fabius ignoring the fact that shellfish brought him out in a rash]

Neither of them." Pa dropped this news, and waited for my amazement. I gasped. Not… the one no one ever talks about? Helena came in behind me. Hello, Geminus; this is a surprise." She was excellent with irony. Who do you not talk about, Marcus?"

Much too long a story!" Pa and I replied, with rare unanimity. Helena Justina smiled and let our enigma pass her by, knowing she could pull the answer from me like a splinter in the finger later. She coiled herself gracefully on the couch beside my father and helped herself to his oozing snack. It smelt delicately of saffron; he could afford luxuries. Strands of green vegetation dangled from the piece of bread she pulled off. Helena managed these with elegant long fingers, while Pa just sucked his up like an enthusiastic blackbird gulping bits of live worm.

Geminus, now that we have you here…" Helena managed to make this sound inoffensive, yet Pa looked at her sharply. Do you know a man called Damagoras?" Pa was the one person I would not have asked. Still, Helena saw him as a man with useful contacts. He answered at once, Big old brigand? I have bought things off him."

What things?" I barked.

Rather good things, normally." Rather meant exceedingly good. And normally meant always.

Is he an importer?" My father laughed coarsely.

You mean he peddles stolen goods?"

Oh I imagine so." My father was an auctioneer and art dealer; the size of his profits signalled to me that he accepted goods for sale with little regard for provenance. Rome had a flourishing repro market, and Pa was adept at pretending he really believed a bare-faced copy was original Greek marble. In reality he had a good eye, and plenty of genuine statues that had evaded their real owners must have gone under his hammer too. I explained that Damagoras had told me he was too elderly to venture from his villa. My father spelled out for me, as if to a priest's little altar boy, that wicked people sometimes lie. He saw Damagoras as pretty active still.

Active in what, Papa?"

Oh, whatever he does." Helena toyed with an olive bowl. Annoyed, I recognised the olives. It looked as if Pa had opened up the Colymbadian giant queens that I was saving for special occasions. My shameless father would now take big scoops of the luscious green gems back to his own house. I would be lucky to find a lick of marinade at the bottom of an empty amphora.

Geminus, we think Damagoras is a pirate." Helena gazed sternly at my father. For her, he always pretended to be a reformed character. He was right; people lie. If pirates still exist, that is."