The mother hunched up at the question, looking as if she had not heard, or more likely did not even know the answer.

‘Is this your first?’

‘No.’

‘How many have you had?’

‘Some.’

‘What happened to the others?’

‘Gone.’

I couldn’t tell if that meant dead, sold, or sent to Campania. A slave’s children would all be slaves too, of course. Myla had no rights over her babies.

I tried asking her about the night of the murder. She had little to say – surprise! – apart from maintaining that when it all kicked off she was trying to sleep, in the slaves’ quarters. Nobody was with her. She had such an air of oddity and distance, I wondered if the others avoided her.

She said she had heard an upset going on, but she could barely move due to the late stage of her pregnancy. Anyway, she claimed she was too frightened to look out.

I felt myself taking against her. A man might be attracted by the faint suggestion she would resist nothing sexually. I was harder. If she had given me information, I would have assumed it was unreliable. I gave up on her.

At the appointed time, I trotted around the corner to see Aviola’s executor. I had made sure I looked like an independent free citizen: strands of gold necklace and floret earrings, with deft applications of make-up and perfume. This was to show I was respectable – or in Roman terms, that my associates had money. I always wore a wedding ring, and introduced myself as a widow. Widows are treated with respect in traditional societies. Mind you, I never banked on it.

Sextus Simplicius was at home. He saw me in his private library. He seemed wary, so I made much of my connection with Manlius Faustus. I had to judge that carefully, however. I didn’t want Simplicius running off to deal with the aedile direct.

Sometimes being female works in my favour. Some men find it exciting to engage with a woman − so long as they can tell themselves the meeting will arouse no bile in their suspicious wives (I mean, the wives don’t have to know about it). If Simplicius had one, he did not invite her to business discussions. In fact, throughout my investigation I was never to meet her.

I spotted scrutiny that made me sit far enough away to prevent any touching. Given a free choice, I would flatten gropers with a lump hammer. But when I need information I have to work around this problem more politely.

This man must be about the same age as Aviola, who had been a close friend. Simplicius told me there was another executor, also a friend, currently away on his country estate. That was fine, unless it made this one too anxious about speaking to me. There was neither opportunity nor time for them to confer and I wanted him to be frank.