My uncle, frowning, chewed an apple and fell silent as he remembered past adventures. Manlius Faustus, looking thoughtful, took up the story.

Like the Balbinus empire, the Rabirii ran lowlife bars, also engaging in stealing and prostitution rackets, much of which took place in those bars. Profits often came from minor theft too − street crime such as snatching purses, even knocking people over and grabbing their small change. Their men raided baths. The women stole from shops, leaning across counters or in through windows. The whole clan took advantage of tipsy crowds at arena festivals or religious processions, though mainly they homed in on markets. Markets provide all kinds of opportunities.

‘Petty thefts add up,’ Faustus said. ‘They also carry out a great deal of house-breaking. They have been doing all this for generations and are experts. Old Rabirius receives a share of whatever his associates obtain, so he is a very wealthy and powerful figure.’

The Rabirii rarely dabbled in white-tunic crimes such as fraud. In a city full of spies and informants, where the emperor welcomed snitches, they kept out of the authorities’ sight, never passing on information unless it served their own purpose. They were tight. They dealt with their own quarrels, and did so harshly. They operated according to a tough moral code, a code based on terror, using both extreme mental pressure and physical pain. Like many cruel people, they pretended a high belief in family – though that only meant their own; their creed excluded any respect for the families of their many victims.

If they really had stolen the Aviola silver, it would be documented by accountants who worked on their payroll, slickly disguising their procedures and real income. Needless to say, the income would never be reported as taxable, though in this they hardly differed from many legitimate businesses in Rome. The Rabirii also had access to metalworkers who would melt down illicit goods and to fences who would slide items back into sleazy retail outlets when that would be more profitable. But if the silver here had been stolen to order, that didn’t seem to fit their usual methods.

‘They work for themselves and avoid contact with “respectable” people.’

‘Does that mean,’ I asked Faustus, ‘they are not for hire – even for murders?’

‘No, they hand out plenty of violence, but the tribune thought they would be very unlikely to act as paid killers.’

‘And anyway, I suppose even they might feel sentimental about killing a new bride!’

Faustus smiled at me. ‘I doubt the Rabirii are ever sentimental.’

Justinus agreed. ‘No, and they initiate their own crimes. It is a matter of pride not to carry out dirty work for others. That they see as menial. They do commit many robberies, and they do kill. However, mostly they go for other members of their own community, as a result of professional or family grudges.’