A lull allowed Volcasius to interrupt. With unabashed lack of social skill, the man nobody wanted to sit with suddenly accosted me. "I've finished lunch. Better speak to me!' He was on his feet and about to leave the courtyard.

I gathered my note-tablets and went over to the table he had occupied alone. He sank back on a bench again, with an ungainly sideways motion. His clothes were unkempt and exuded a waft of body odour. Though his manner towards me was abrupt, I would treat him with courtesy. People like that do know how others regard them. He was probably intelligent – perhaps too intelligent; that may have been the problem. He could well provide useful information.

"You are called Volcasius?'

He glared. "So some snitch gave you our biographies!'

"Just a list of names. Is there anything you can add to what the rest have told me?' He shrugged, so I asked him, "Do you think Statianus killed his wife?'

"No idea. The pair were wrapped up in themselves, and frankly did not interest me. I never gained any impression of whether he was jealous or likely to snap.'

I surveyed the oddball thoughtfully, wondering whether he himself had ever had any tricky exchanges with the bride.

As I had thought, the man was bright. he read my thoughts. "You are imagining that I killed her!' The way he put it was very self-centred. He seemed almost pleased to rank as a suspect.

"So did you?' I challenged.

"Certainly not.'

"Any idea who might have done?'

"No idea at all. Is that the best you can come up with?' His tone was contemptuous. As an investigator, he thought I stank. I knew the kind; he believed he could do my job for me – though of course he lacked experience, persistence, skill, or sensitivity. And if he had had

to park in a doorway to watch a suspect, the mark would have spotted him instantly.

I leaned back, looking relaxed. "Tell me why you are on this trip, will you?'

Hooking himself into a crazy position, he peered at me, now deeply suspicious. "Why do you want to know, Falco?'

"I want to establish who had a motive. Perhaps I wonder whether you attach yourself to travelling groups in order to prey on women.' He humphed. "Not married, Volcasius?'

Volcasius grew hot and bothered. "That applies to plenty of people!'

I gave him a conciliatory smile. "Of course. You see the obvious way of thinking, however. But I never follow obvious lines of enquiry… Are you keen on culture? Is that the lure?'

"I've nothing at home to keep me. I like to visit foreign places.'

"Nothing wrong with that!' I soothed him, while also implying that there might be. I could see how it was. He would never fit in, wherever he was, so he kept moving. I guessed that he also had a genuine, even a pedantic interest in the provinces he toured. He was carrying a note-tablet set much like my own. His tablets lay folded open so I could see scrawled lines of madly minute handwriting, lines which made my eyes ache as I tried to decipher them at a distance. There were place-names underlined, then long inches of detail; he was creating an enormous travel guide. I could imagine that when he had been at Olympia he compiled not just descriptions of the temples and sports facilities, but lists of the hundreds of statues, probably each with its inscription copied down. "You strike me, Volcasius, as the kind of observant man who may have seen something other people missed.'

I hated myself for flattering him, and since he was far from grateful, I then hated myself more. "I've been thinking about that,' he retorted. "Unfortunately for you, I have not been able to remember anything significant.' I looked rueful; he was triumphant. "If anything should come to mind, have no fear, I shall report forthwith!'

"Thank you.'

Volcasius had a way of leaning too close which, combined with his sour smell, made me desperate to be rid of him. "So what is your solution for that other girl, Falco? The one who was found on the Hill of Cronus?'

I kept my voice low, to match his. "Marcella Caesia?' Some of the group must have known her story, because the apparent connection was why Aulus had written to us back in Rome. "It now appears that the two cases are not linked.'

Volcasius let out a short bark of derision, as if with that I had just proved myself incompetent. He said nothing to assist me, needless to say. I never had any patience with idiots who gave me that superior "Little do you know!' snot.

He stood up again. "As for that young man you enquired about, Falc o- the Aelianus fellow – nobody else seems to have spotted it, but when we were all put under house arrest here, he took ofTsomewhere with the dead girl's husband.'

Volcasius strode away with the air of a man who had just given himself a big thrill by annoying me. I failed to point out that he had left his hat behind, lying on the table. It was the kind of greasy straw affair that looks as if it harbours wildlife. If there had been an oil lamp lit, I would have taken a spill and deliberately set fire to the hat in the cause of hygiene.

I rejoined Helena Justina, who had stayed with her new friends, the colourful foursome. I pulled a face, to express my feelings about Volcasius, but they were too polite to comment. I guessed that in private they said how dreadful he was; in public, since they had to endure him as a companion, these expert tourists appeared forbearing.

Helena looked amused by my plain loathing of the loner. She had more urgent things on her mind, though. "Marcus, listen! Cleonyma and Minucia have been telling me about the day when Valeria went on the Pelops tour.'

The two women shuffled closer together like schoolgirls and looked reluctant. But eventually Minucia confessed in a near-whisper. "It's nothing – but when we were going around the site, that big brute, Milo of Dodona, spoke to her.'

I leaned my chin on my hands. "Milo? What did he say to Valeria, any idea?'

"She was embarrassed. There was a lot of whispering; she tried to get rid of him.'

"So what was his game?'

"Oh, he wants sponsors for a statue of himself Minucia did not yet know Milo was in the past tense. "He had been around asking all of us. Valeria was a kind-hearted girl and he picked up on that. She had no idea how to get rid of him. She and Statianus had no real money. Milo was wasting his time there.'

"Was there anything sexual in his interest?' I asked frankly. "Or in her interest in him?

Cleonyma shook her head. "No, no; he's an ugly bastard.

"Marcus has seen him,' Helena interposed.

"Worse,' I said. "I've been thrown on my head by him.' Cleonymus and Amaranthus winced at my heroics. "Some women like the idea of being crushed in the strong arms of a well-developed lover,' I suggested. The women to whom I propounded this coy theory heard it in silence, implying they were all admirers of intellect and sensitivity.

Cleonyma inspected her fingernails; even Helena straightened her bangle with a very refined motion. "We suspect Milo invited Valeria to meet him. Was that in your hearing?'

Cleonyma and Minucia glanced at each other, neither wanting to tell me.

"Come on, ladies; this is important. I can't interrogate Milo, by the way, because he's died on me.'

Looking shocked, Cleonyma pressed a hand against her lips then muttered through her fingers, "He was trying to lure Valeria to the palaestra to hear some poet reading his work.'

The palaestra would be used as an auditorium by authors of celebratory odes. During the Games, philosophers and panegyrists would hang around there like midges. We had even dodged a few during our own visit. "Valeria was a literary type?'

"Valeria was just bloody bored!' Minucia muttered hoarsely. "We all were, Falco. There is nothing for women at Olympia – well not unless you're a girl in the leisure industry; they make as much in the five nights of the Games as they can in a year!' I did wonder briefly if Minucia had special knowledge of this service industry.