‘We split up to search separately. The lads kept going in the same direction, looked in more rooms in case there was any more dining places. I crossed the courtyard on my own. I thought the stuff might have been in the kitchen. It looked as though they had had a party, so they might have used it.’

‘Friendly neighbourhood thieves don’t generally go to kitchens?’

Roscius looked surprised. ‘Oh yes, we often have a bite while we are working. You can get good scran on a job. But I popped into the master bedroom first, and that was enough for me.’

‘And you still saw nobody? There were supposed to be women asleep in one bedroom at the front, others in the slaves’ own quarters at the back, two drunks paralytic in the courtyard; those two would be right by where your accomplices were searching … Didn’t any of you see any of them?’

‘Sorry. Cannot help you.’

‘How did you know the room you went into was the chief bedroom?’

‘Garlands hung around the doors.’

‘Probably been there since the wedding night …’ I mused.

Faustus chipped in: ‘Was the house in darkness?’

‘That doesn’t bother us.’

‘No, but was it?’

‘We like it dark.’

‘I’m sure you do, but please answer my question.’

‘Mostly. The dead pair must have been screwing by lamplight before they was interrupted. They had a little pottery lamp on their bedside table, still flickering away.’

‘That all?’

‘There may have been candelabras in the big place next to where I found the bodies. I never got in there.’

Faustus checked with me. I said, ‘The Corinthian oecus, the fancy saloon. It could have been dressed up, so it could be shown off to the guests that evening. But I can’t imagine why it would still be lit once the feast was over and the guests had gone. Not unless someone forgot about it when they doused all the other lamps.’ I thought Roscius must have been mistaken, and after listening to my comments he did not insist.

Now that he had unburdened himself, Roscius quickly rallied as a gangland heavy. While Faustus and I were considering, he was perfecting his mindless stare. One day it would actually intimidate people.

I asked, ‘Did either you or your companions touch the bodies, Roscius?’

The supposed tough leapt back, gurning in disgust at the thought.

‘Settle down! I just wondered if you could tell me whether those corpses were still warm.’

‘You are joking! None of us went near them.’

‘Assuming you did meet someone in one of the porticos, what would you have done?’ asked Faustus.

‘Put them down. Swift tap,’ explained Roscius, miming one very hard knock on the head.

‘Not set about them with a weapon? Something like a plank, say?’

‘Too messy, tribune. Aedile,’ the crook corrected himself, wanting to sound like an accurate witness.

‘Not your style?’

‘No way.’