So this gave a new picture: there was a sudden burst of disturbing shouts, from one person, who seemed to be male, then the couple died in the next few moments. The speed of it explained why they could not escape, even perhaps explained why nobody reacted and came to their aid.

‘If you were in the street going to the bar, did you see Libycus go indoors?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who let him in?’

‘Nicostratus.’

‘You saw him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did anyone come out?’

‘No,’ said Secundus.

‘That boy,’ said Myrinus before he could stop himself. It turned out he meant Cosmus, being sent to fetch the vigiles, afterwards. They reckoned by then they had been on their third drink in the bar.

‘While we were having our first, we saw Polycarpus come down and let himself in.’

‘On his own?’

‘Yes.’

That confirmed Polycarpus was not there when the deaths took place. Not that he needed an alibi, now he was dead himself. But it placed him.

‘Did you at any point see three burglars? Going in either direction?’

‘No, never.’

‘How many drinks at the bar did you have?’

‘Five or six, then the barkeeper stopped serving us and threw us out,’ admitted Secundus. ‘We had had a drop at our house earlier and might have been a bit merry. He called us a menace.’

‘Again!’ chortled Myrinus.

‘I hope you were not so very drunk that I cannot rely on you as witnesses …’ They smiled sweetly and played innocent. I kept it light. ‘How fast do you drink?’

Fast, they said. With sheepish grins.

Not very sheepish. They were men. They were proud of it.

I left it there. Back in the Aviola apartment I found the usual two seats left out in the courtyard had been paired up with two more. Galla, Graecina and Fauna were ensconced in a group, clearly waiting for me; they urged me to join them. They had all made friends and looked set in for the day.

I had seen Galla’s carrying chair go off down the street while I was talking to the leatherworkers. I learned it contained the baby and Graecina’s children, who were to be looked after today at Galla’s cousin’s apartment. She would hand over the baby to a wet-nurse she had lined up for her daughter’s child – ‘Bit of advance practice for her!’

When Valeria gave birth and claimed the nurse for her own child, the slave baby would be found a place, probably deposited on a country estate, where she could vanish into obscurity. Sitting here in the city, we all assumed the countryside was laden with resplendent big-breasted farm women, who could generously provide milk for the motherless while hardly noticing an extra mouth attached. If they were not busy, they probably suckled orphaned kid goats.