For a change, instead of going down towards the Caelian, I walked a northern route to the Aventine – Clivus Suburanus, Clivus Pullius, Clivus Orbius, on to the top end of the Forum, then around the back of the Palatine on the river side, through the meat market to the corn station, and up the hill to the Temple of Ceres from the Trigeminal Gate. I must be growing homesick. I ended up very near my parents’ town house although since they were away at the coast I did not drop in. I had no wish to visit their home-sitting slaves. My favourites were Helena’s favourites too, and had gone with the family.

Faustus was not at the aediles’ office. Nobody had seen him all day. I hoped he was not annoyed that I turned down his offer of assistance with the interviews. More likely, he thought I was getting ideas about him.

Fine by me.

The nine survivors were in the office garden as usual: those two old workshy cronies, Amethystus and Diomedes, had marked out a board in the dust and were playing a game with pebbles for counters, watched in a desultory way by the ambitious young Daphnus and his twin, the dim scribe Melander. In another group, the African Libycus was talking to the women, Amaranta and the girl Olympe. Phaedrus, the tall German litter bearer-cum-porter, was sitting by himself, acting as if he wanted a sculptor to turn him into a Defeated Barbarian. Chrysodorus was on his own too. He was lying on his back on some grass, with his eyes closed and his hands folded on his chest, as if he was waiting for the pains of life to be over. The awful little dog, Puff, had curled up beside the philosopher, oblivious to his loathing.

I marched over to them and called for attention. First, I announced that Polycarpus was dead. Keeping an eye on as many as possible, I told them how he had been killed. I heard subdued muttering, and noticed a few glances from one to the other, but no significant reaction. Few workers are truly sorry when their supervisor comes to a bad end.

I mentioned that this did not affect their position. ‘You were here. In fact it happened yesterday morning, while I saw you all, so I can even vouch for you myself.’ One or two still looked subdued; after all, they were still indicted for the murders of their master and mistress. The killing of Polycarpus, a freedman, hardly made a difference.