‘No attendants?’ asked the freedman. He meant females; for chaperone purposes Dromo didn’t count. Polycarpus had judged me as not quite respectable − theoretically correct. I watched him wonder if it was an invitation for groping.

‘Touch me and you’re dead!’ I mentioned quietly. He extinguished the hope without remorse; he would give me no trouble, well, probably not much. This was Rome. He was a man. He had to dance the dance. ‘Let’s get one question out of the way, Polycarpus. Where were you when the attack happened?’

He pretended affront at the question (again as a matter of principle) then confidently declared: ‘I left after dinner for my own home.’

‘Which is where?’

‘A small apartment upstairs in this building.’

‘I may need to see your accommodation … Who can vouch for you leaving?’

‘My people, and everyone here.’ His alibi was unsound, since everyone he mentioned would be biased, and moreover he could have bribed them. I made no comment. I would return to the subject later, if I had to.

‘As a freedman, you still worked for your original master?’

‘Aviola found me indispensable. I continued with my old duties as his steward.’

‘How long?’

‘Past five years.’

‘Paid?’

‘Enough to live on. I moved out; I have rooms, with a wife and family. I come in on a daily basis.’

Separate living quarters were now his entitlement. He was a citizen, though he could not stand for office; however, any descendants would hold full civic rights. He managed not to sound too proud of it, just letting me know he had a normal life, able to come and go. His own place, his woman, his freeborn offspring.

‘Are there other freedmen associated with this household?’

‘Yes, but all gone away to run the master’s country estates.’

Time to tackle the crimes. ‘So! When and how did you learn of the tragedy, Polycarpus?’

‘I don’t know why, I just had a strange feeling that night, so I came back.’

‘No one fetched you?’

‘Oh, they would have done. But in fact I walked in during the hubbub straight afterwards.’

‘Had the thieves left?’

‘No sign of them. It was me who called the vigiles.’ Polycarpus wanted me to know that. Since suspicion had fallen so quickly on the household, he was anxious to seem law-abiding.

‘Did you go to fetch the vigiles yourself?’

‘I stayed here to supervise, to make sure no one touched anything …’ He had the subdued look of a man remembering horrors. I reckoned it was genuine, but I kept an open mind. ‘A slave went.’

I asked which one, but he still seemed too affected by shock to answer. I could ask them directly. I gestured to my list. ‘I have these details of the slaves in the temple. Did the whole household flee? Are any left in the apartment?’