‘Nice courtesy, Perella. And I take you very seriously too. Still working?’

‘Retired—generally.’ That figured. Her hair, never stylish, had once passed for blonde; she was letting the grey work its way out through the lopsided chignon. The skin on her neck had coarsened. But her self-containment did not alter. ‘Yourself?’

‘I had the chance—came into money. I decided work was in my blood.’

‘What are you working on?’ Perella was eating pistachios as if all that mattered was splitting their shells. She tossed off the question like casual conversation—but I never forgot she was an agent. A good one.

I let time pass before I answered. Perella put the nuts down. We gazed at one another. I said quietly, ‘As usual, my role is complex. I cannot trust my principle—insofar as I have any, given that the case I was investigating for a dead man’s nephew was then grabbed by Anacrites.’

Perella folded her hands on her full waistline, as if she was just about to ask me where I got my stylish wrist purse. ‘My whimsical employer!’

‘Still?’

‘Oh yes. You mean the marsh bugs, I suppose? He sent me there, if you’re interested.’ I must have looked surprised. ‘I can swat flies, Falco.’

‘And which fly,’ I asked with emphasis, ‘was he wanting you to swat?’

‘A vicious coward called Nobilis.’ Although Perella worked for Anacrites, he never quite managed to buy her loyalty. She was more likely to connive with me, a fellow professional. ‘Nobilis must have heard I was coming, so he fled abroad.’

I could not blame him. ‘So that’s why he vanished! How did he know you were coming for him?’

‘I wonder!’ scoffed Perella. She implied Anacrites let it slip.

‘Do you know where he went?’

‘Pucinum.’ Where had I heard that name recently? ‘Fled into hiding with his grandma,’ Perella said, sneeringly. ‘That’s where they come from, those animals. I could have gone over there and dealt with him easily.’

‘Did Anacrites run out of cash for your fare?’

‘Much more intriguing! Anacrites was going that way himself.’

‘Aha! So Pucinum is in Istria!’ I whistled through my bottom teeth, to give myself thinking time. ‘I’ve remembered—he bought wine there on the trip . . . Has Anacrites done the business? Has he finished Nobilis himself?’

Perella gave me an odd look. ‘Well, just like you, I’m off the case. But, just like you, I never let go. He didn’t. Nobilis is back, according to my sources. Seen in Rome. Anacrites must have reprieved him.’

‘Or he just bungled it.’

‘Not so,’ said Perella softly. ‘Claudius Nobilis came home on the same ship as the spy. The pair of them together, tight as ticks.’

‘Anacrites brought him back? But not in leg irons—I haven’t seen a trial announced!’