‘There you sit, looking neat, thoughtful and demure. That, I am sure, is how your adoptive parents are bringing you up. Falco and Helena would be shocked to hear the way you have talked to me.’

‘Regretful, maybe—but not surprised.’ She was only half right; I was startled by the way she took the spy on.

‘Well, I am shocked, Albia.’

‘You’re easily shocked then. Why? You do filthy work. You are a spy and you co-operate with the Praetorian Guards. That means unfair arrests, torture, intimidation. Nothing I have said is so very outrageous, just honest. Life made me hard. Harder than the average Roman maiden of my new father’s rank, or some pampered girl brought up in higher circles. I’m harder even than the daughters of poor craftsmen, who have to work in the family business, but who are free to chatter away their days until some dumb husband claims them. I come from the streets. I am sure you poked about and learned that about me.’

‘Why ever would I investigate you, my dear?’

‘It’s what you do. To put pressure on Didius Falco.’

‘That’s a myth—and libel.’

‘Better hire an informer then, to make your case in court . . . So you say you are above jealousy? Why then, Anacrites, do you do stupid things like stealing that case Falco and Petronius worked so hard on? They had their teeth into it, and are perfectly capable.’

Anacrites jumped up in a spurt of irascibility. ‘Olympus! If the Modestus enquiry means so much to them, that ridiculous pair can have it back. There was nothing underhand; it just seems a suitable case for my own organisation! A normal redistribution of the workload, once I was available to supervise.’

‘So the terrible Claudii don’t have some hold over you?’

‘Who thinks that? Don’t be ridiculous!’ The spy was pacing about in the courtyard. Albia, my dogged, darling fosterling, stayed where she was. Briefly, Anacrites put both hands on either side of his forehead, as if troubled again mentally. ‘Falco asked me just now how the case was going. He was satisfied with my answer.’

‘I doubt that.’

Anacrites stopped. ‘Did Falco put you up to this?’

‘Rubbish. He would be frothing at the mouth if he realised you were talking to me. What—out here in the dark, away from the company, a young girl who has only just begun to go to adult parties and a man in a position of public authority, her host, maybe thirty years her senior?’

‘Quite right!’ Anacrites’ voice was clipped. He held out an arm formally. ‘I have enjoyed our talk, but I should return you to our fellow guests. Come!’