Then she will be impressed that the state is so interested in this man's underwear."

You think there may be something more useful in his luggage?"

I was brought up rough," I said, and I confess to some fetishes, but so far I have not sunk so low that I go sniffing at people's old tunic stains."

You want note-tablets." Helena Justina snuggled against my shoulder and was silent for a while, watching the ferry. Pages of helpfully scribbled clues." Eventually, because she knew I was waiting for it, she murmured with polite curiosity, My darling, what fetishes?"

The arrival of our children occupied the rest of the morning. Aulus and I had a jocular chat about his planned trip to Athens while Helena and Albia talked gravely about why the dog seemed off colour. The girls toddled and crawled around on their own, looking for things to destroy in their new home. The dog, Nux, raced with them for a while then tired of the frenzy and hid under a bed. There was a lot to unpack. Everyone tried to avoid being the fool who ended up doing it. The person who sorts out the luggage on arrival always gets blamed for everything other people have left behind. Yes, of course it is unfair. Life is unfair. After ten years as an informer, that was the one philosophical certainty I still held. For Aulus, two hours in a hot cart with a cantankerous mule, supervising my retinue, had used up all his reserves. A fit and thickset young fellow who should have had endless energy, he soon put his feet up on a window ledge and fell asleep. Before he dropped off, he handed me the docket from the scribes, which gave me authority to obtain Diocles" possessions. Aulus declined to take an interest in reclaiming the loot. I would have thought he was staying behind because he had taken a fancy to Albia, but she was far too young for him, and had a past too full of uncertainties for a conservative like Aulus. She came from Britain; she had been found in a gutter as a baby, during the Rebellion. She might be graced with Roman parentage, but equally might not. No one would ever know, so in society she was damned. As for Aulus, he had lost an heiress when his one-time fiancee, Claudia Rufina, married his brother instead; he was now determined only to cast his big brown eyes on a gilt-edged virgin with a line of pickled ancestors and moneybags to match. Albia might have had a crush on him, had she not suffered serious abuse before we rescued her. She avoided men now. Well that was what I told myself, though, for all we knew when we took her in, her past might have made her promiscuous. Helena had faith in the girl. That was good enough for me. Domestic anxieties would once not have troubled me. Once, I had no ties. My only worries were how to pay the rent and whether my mother had spotted my new girlfriend. Becoming a husband and father had doomed me to respectability. Single informers are proud to have a racy reputation, but I was so domestic now that I could not leave two unmarried persons alone without soul-searching. Helena had no qualms. If they were going to sleep together, they would have managed it on the way here."

What a shocking thought." I hid a grin.

Marcus, you are just startled that I still remember what you and I would have done." I reminisced nostalgically. Then I consoled myself, Well, Albia hates men."

Albia thinks she hates men." I could foresee trouble in that.

He is too fat," commented Albia herself, coming in unexpectedly. How long had she been listening? She was a slender teenager with dark hair that could be Mediterranean and blue eyes that could be Celtic. Her Latin needed polish but Helena had that in hand. Soon Albia would pass for a freedwoman and the questions would stop. With any luck we could find her a husband with a good trade and she might even end up happy. Well, the husband might be happy. Albia had lost her childhood to isolation and neglect; that would always show.

Who is?" asked Helena disingenuously.

Your brother!" quipped Albia.

My brother just has a heavy frame."

No." Albia had reverted to her normal wounded seriousness. And he is not serious about his life. He will come to a bad end."

Who will?" asked Aulus, appearing in the same doorway in turn.

You will!" we all chorused. Aulus showed his teeth. He drank too much red wine and he tried to eliminate the stains by scraping his fangs with emery powder. The teeth would fall out, but he no doubt believed they would look very pretty in the dentist's discard dish. He had all the normal vanity of a lad about town, and enough cash to be a fool every time he went into an apothecary's shop. At the moment he reeked of cassia. A bad end? I hope so," he leered salaciously. with any luck in Greece!" When he bothered to smile, Aulus Camillus acquired sudden good looks. It could have worried me, in relation to Albia. But we left them together anyway. For Helena and me, having someone to look after the children while we went out in tandem was too good a chance to miss. It was a hot day and the walk to the Marine Gate took us plenty of time. We stayed in the shade, dodging off the Decumanus and down shady side streets wherever possible. For a pre-republican town, Ostia possessed a good grid system and we found our way through its quiet alleys easily. It was afternoon, siesta time. A few lunchtime bars were still serving extended snacks to regulars, with furtive sparrows pecking at leftovers from previous clients. Thin dogs slept against doorsteps and tethered mules stood with their heads down at water troughs, tails flicking listlessly as they pretended their owners had left them abandoned. The owners, like most people, were indoors. They were enjoying normal lunchtime life. a quick bread and sausage snack, or a fast hump with their best friend's wife; aimless conversation with a pal; a game of draughts; asking for more credit from a loan shark; or a daily visit to an elderly father. Helena and I worked around the back of the Forum and its associated public buildings; we passed fullers and temples, markets and inns, as we headed for the cooler breezes and the sound of gulls. I allowed Helena a rapid glance at the ocean vista, then dragged her to see the landlady. We knew that the woman would be sleeping and bad-tempered if we disturbed her, but at least at this time of day no whey-faced slave would inform us that the mistress was off out shopping or being beautified, or that she had gone somewhere miles away to pick a fight with her mother-in-law. A sleepy seaside after noon, when the noon sun has baked the morning's fish scales to papery transparency on the harbour wall and the cormorants are sunbathing, is the time to find people. I watched Helena sum up the woman, who was broad-shouldered and florid and wore a plum-coloured gown that was a little too long around the sandals, and a not-quite matching stole. Her heavy gold ear-rings were in a hooped style and she had a snake bracelet with sinister glass eyes. Rouged cheeks and tinctured eyelids, with the colour settled crudely in the creases, were clearly routine ornament [for her, not the bracelet snake. She was either a widow, or it suited her to appear so. She was certainly not the helpless kind of widow. I would have accepted her as a client, though the prospect would not have excited me. I knew from my previous visit that her manner was one of pleasant efficiency but she was out to make money. Play her right, and pay her far too much, and she would be all sweetness. She wanted no trouble, so on production of my docket she scowled heavily but did lead us to Diocles" belongings. She was keeping them out in an old chicken shed. There were predictable results.

I can see you are looking after everything." No chickens now scratched around the tiny kitchen garden, but they had left mementoes of the usual kind. There are worse things than feathers and chicken shit, but it seemed a crude repository.