"She was killed inside the palaestra?'

"It seems so.'

"Was there any evidence at the scene? If she was battered, there would have been blood.

Both Glaucus and the piper laughed." Falco, the skamma is the practice ground for boxing and pankration!' Glaucus was shaking his head at my gaffe.

"There is blood in the skamma sand every day.' The piper had to emphasise the point." Who knows whose blood it is?' He chortled, showing the casual heartlessness that might have been encountered by Caesia's father and Valeria's husband when they appealed for help.

"So, what's the story? What do people think?' I demanded." Look, if a museum-piece weight was used, it may have been taken down from the wall display to show to the girl. There are plenty of the new ones lying around

To show her?' Glaucus was clearly an innocent.

"I imagine,' I told him, feeling old," it is a well-worn chat line in athletics circles. Approach an attractive young lady, who looks easily impressed. Try out the enticing ploy. Come to the palaestra and see my jumping weights.*

"Ah!' Glaucus had rallied, though he coloured." Well, I suppose that's better than. Look at my big discus, littlegirl.

I asked the piper to introduce me to the palaestra superintendent. Glaucus removed himself, in case he was detected as an interloper in their high-grade club. He took himself off to the gymnasium for a spot of javelin practice.

Myron performed the introduction I had requested.

The palaestra chief lived in a small office that smelt like a cupboard full of very old loincloths. He was a six-foot monster, whose neck was wider than his head; he could only have started life as a boxer. He still wore a leather skullcap as his daily headgear. From the state of his face, he was not particularly successful and had suffered at the hands of rivals. He had two cauliflower ears and a broken nose, with one eye permanently closed. When Myron saw me adding up the damage, the musician whispered," You should see his opponents!' Then he slid off somewhere else fast.

I spoke to the superintendent very politely, in his own language." Sorry to bother you. My name is Marcus Didius Falco. I have come from Rome to look into what happened to Valeria Ventidia, the young woman who was murdered here.'

"Stupid little bitch!' His voice was less powerful than his stature suggested. His attitude lived up to expectations.

I know it's a nuisance.' I kept my voice level. It was certainly possible she had behaved stupidly." Can you tell me the background?'

Suspicion slowly worked its way into his one eye." You working for the family?'

"Worse than that, I'm afraid. I'm looking for a story to stop the family petitioning the Emperor – if a good story exists. I gather that a fuss was made here at the time and now the stink has wafted all the way back to Rome. I am supposed to find out whether we can blame the girl, or better still of course, blame her husband.'

"Blame her. he snorted.

"You know that for sure?'

"Nobody knows anything for sure. My people found her cluttering

up the skamma I had her thrown out into the porch. I don't allow women – alive or dead!'

I quashed an indignant retort." Someone must have brought her in behind your back?'

"If it was up to me, I would bar women for a twenty-mile radius.'

"Plenty of people feel the same way?' If his attitude was common among competitors and male spectators, it could make life very uncomfortable for women visitors.

"We ought to go back to the old days – women were hurled from the Typaean cliffs!'

"Bit drastic?'

"Not drastic enough.'

"And now?'

"They get refused entry to the events. But the silly whores come wandering all over the place. If I catch the bastard who sneaked one in here, I'll break every bone in his body.' He meant it.

As for the woman, if this tyrant had caught her in his precious palaestra, would he go as far as killing her? I reckoned if he had done, he would be boasting more.

"I take it your palaestra stays open after normal hours?'

"We never lock up. The porter knocks off but we leave out a few lamps, in case competitors are desperate for a last practice.'

"Why should anyone be desperate this year?'

"What's your point, Falco?'

"No Games, no competitors. No competition, no need for late-night practice. The aficionados aren't coming till next year. I bet this place was deserted. Anyone could slip in a girlfriend and hope for his fun undisturbed.'

The superintendent glowered. His bad eye watered." Athletes who come here are dedicated They practise full time.'

"You can't have it all ways. If athletes were in here, I want to know who they were, and I'll question them…' The superintendent was not going to tell me. I guessed they weren't around that night, so I left it." Had the woman been bothering your members, all doe-eyed?'

"I'd like to see her try! My members have only one thing on their minds.'

"Really?'

"You haven't got the first idea. Dedication They go in front of the statue of Zeus Horkios to swear they have been in training for ten months. That's just the start. The judges have to confirm that accredited contenders have practised, at Elis or here, for a whole

month, under Olympic supervision. They are got in shape by coaches and doctors, they have diet and exercise regimens laid down for every minute of the day – bugger it, they even have their sleep regulated.'

There was no mileage in restating that this was not an Olympic year; I went along with him." So the last thing those boys want is some skirt messing with their brains?'

The superintendent was still giving me the" looks can kill' glare he had developed for the start of his fights, when each man paces around trying to make his opponent concede from sheer terror." Let me tell you – they tie a tight piece of string around their prick and even if they have any energy to spare for screwing, they can't get it up!'

I winced. Anyone who has ever entered a gymnasium has heard that story. Nobody I ever knew had really seen it done. Even so, I knew the slang. "Putting the dog on the lead?

"Get you!' The superintendent had a punch-drunk brain. There was so little undamaged sweetbread in his skull, only one idea could feature." The brazen bride must have been meeting a lover, but it was not one of my members. Some bastard outsider slipped her in after hours, then she played him up and he cracked her one.

"Several, as I heard. Can I see the weight that killed her?'

"It's not here.' I did not believe him. I bet he had snaffled it to gloat over. However, he was too big to argue with." She deserved a bashing,' he reckoned.

Helene Justina would protest that no woman" deserves' murder. Until I knew just how Valeria was lured here, I would reserve judgement. If she flaunted herself, she was stupid." Tell me about afterwards, then. Wasn't there a magistrate dabbling with the investigation?'

"Aquillius. From Corinth. Thank the gods he's taken himself back there.'

"On the governor's staff?'

"Bloody quaestor.' Some youngster in his first ever senatorial post, then. In fact, not even ensconced in the Senate; just serving in a minor finance post in order to show he was fit for election. Bound to know nothing. Bound to have messed up. Bound to get uppity if I ever told him so.

"Anybody here on the site I ought to report to?' I asked." Don't want to step on toes. Who took the most interest here?'

"Lacheses. In the Altis. At the Priests' House.'

"Chief priest?'

"Zeus, no, Chief priest has better things to worry about.'

I thanked him, though it hurt to do so, and he swore at me again. I got out of there, with cold sweat running down my back