I began coolly: ‘You and Valerius Aviola split up long ago, so you are not a fragile widow around whom I must tiptoe gently. I realise what happened is a shock, but I have to be blunt. The situation has become an embarrassment for the Temple of Ceres, so they want answers quickly.’

‘The Temple? …’ Galla quavered, though I presumed her cousin had explained the situation to her.

I myself discussed the slaves taking refuge. ‘They will take the blame and be executed, for not saving their master and mistress – that’s unless it can be shown who really murdered them.’

‘Do you think you can find out?’

I looked Galla Simplicia in the eye. Was she saying do you know it was me? ‘That is the intention.’ I paused for a beat, then said, ‘I was surprised to be told that you yourself wanted the couple out of the way.’

‘I deny it!’ Of course she did. ‘We were perfectly friendly.’ Of course they were not.

‘Well, I expected you to deny it,’ I replied, as if that was enough. A wise woman would understand that I hadn’t even started.

‘It is a terrible thing to say – and it’s a lie!’

‘It could be misinformation from people with vested interests –’ That sounded fair. I did not want her to be able to allege I was prejudiced against her. ‘But much weight is given to informants these days, you know. Our emperor encourages people to speak out against their associates. Please use this opportunity to clarify everything, will you? Accusations are being bandied about that you were afraid for your children’s future − so let’s talk about the children first.’

We established the family tree. Valerius, Valeria and Simplicia were twenty-five, twenty-one and nineteen. Valerius still lived with his mother. I could imagine what that signified. Both daughters were married, Valeria about to produce her first child; I wondered if the prospect of becoming a grandfather had spurred Aviola to remarry.

‘He wanted to prove his virility,’ sneered Galla, of her own accord. ‘Don’t they all? It’s so pathetic.’

‘You reckon he would have produced a second family?’

‘She –’ That was Mucia Lucilia. ‘– had no children. Yet! She wouldn’t refuse. Of course he would be thrilled − then he would have died on them while they were still helpless infants. Just so selfish!’

‘You have a bleak view of men.’

‘Don’t you?’ Galla demanded, staring at me bitterly. It was true I had seen the worst men do. But I felt no sense of sisterhood. Not that this woman wanted my friendship.

Even so, I pretended we were speaking freely. ‘So, Galla Simplicia, you were understandably anxious about your children? Perhaps you were afraid of them losing their father’s affection? Is it right you would have done anything to safeguard their position?’

‘I am a mother, I defend my brood. I have brought them up myself—’

‘With financial help, surely?’