‘No, in fact.’ I cast my mind back to the scene when the Camilli and I were pulling up the caterers for theft, with Anacrites watching us. ‘When he saw the cameo, he first denied knowledge. He took a moment to realise what it must be. Am I right, lads?’

Both Camilli nodded. Aulus said, ‘He looked annoyed—but he chose to protect the agents. Thinking fast, he came up with that limp story about a woman.’

‘He became very jumpy,’ added Quintus.

‘Yes—jumpy enough for you to think the cameo was significant, and to palm it!’

‘Ooh, naughty!’ said Petro, grinning.

Helena frowned. ‘Why would Anacrites protect his men if they are corrupt? Wouldn’t he be livid that they stole evidence and jeopardised his chances of cracking the case?’

Petronius thumped a clenched fist several times on the table. The beat was measured, the meaning grim. ‘You can have the wandering donkey theory—though I think it’s bullocks’ bollocks. Try this: during the courier’s murder, one of his killers took the cameo. It was a trophy. It was secreted away to gloat over, the way killers’ trophies are.’

I agreed: ‘And it never left the killer. He took it home and hid the thing in his room. When Anacrites saw what the caterers had found, it took him a moment, but he knew what it meant. Why? Because he already knew he had a killer in his house. Work the rest out, lads—’

The Camilli made the connection immediately. Justinus said, ‘The so-called Melitans are the two Claudii who work in Rome. They are Pius and Virtus.’

Helena sat back as it all made sense. ‘Anacrites himself is protecting the Claudii—and not just since Modestus died. He has actively been their patron for much longer.’

I nodded. ‘I’m slow. As soon as he let slip that his agents were twins, it should have rung bells. Too much coincidence.’

‘It’s good. It was another bit of very simple concealment,’ said Aulus. ‘Once you know, however, the subterfuge leaps out. I don’t know how he thought he could get away with it for much longer.’

‘Arrogance. He believes he is untouchable.’ Petro claimed the big finish: ‘Two of the murdering Claudii actually go out to kill from the spy’s house. Anacrites himself has given the twins a base in Rome, providing them with a locale. He knows—but he still let them get away with it. So what is his game, Falco?’

Baffled by the spy’s stupidity, I shook my head. ‘He is crazy. I suppose he may be struggling to contain them. On an off-day, he may even stupidly have told them to provide a corpse north of the Tiber to distract attention from the Modestus killing on the other side of Rome.’