‘Absolutely bloody not, Falco. This is so utterly sub rosa, one word to you and I’d be spit-roasted with a bunch of oregano pushed up my bum.’

Tired of boys’ talk, Albia interrupted. ‘I suppose, Tiberius Fusculus, that means Uncle Lucius has not told you his thinking on this?’

He gazed at her almost as speculatively as Silanus had before he asked if she was married. ‘Bright girlie. No, Uncle Lucius—tight bastard—has not revealed his mighty thoughts.’

I grinned. ‘I’ll have to ask him myself then.’

‘You do that, Falco.’ Fusculus reapplied himself to searching tombs. I clucked up the donkey. As the cart jerked and moved off, Fusculus called after us without rancour, ‘The big clue is—we found luggage!’

Interesting.

It was so interesting I was dying to ask Petronius about it. First, I returned the cart to the hire stables, took Albia home, and gave a good show of being safely back with my family. After about half an hour I nipped out to see Petro. Helena spotted me going. I winked and promised to share any gossip as soon as I came back. She sighed, but did not intervene.

Petronius, amazingly, was trying on his toga. This rare sight made me chortle—until I found out why. It was dusk, so the sweltering streets had cooled a fraction; not enough for loading pounds of heavy white wool on your shoulders, though. No option, it seemed: Petro had to stand in for his tribune, Rubella. The Fourth Cohort’s senior officer had been summoned to a high-status conference on the Palatine.

Petronius would normally have been taken along too, in order to whisper corrections whenever Rubella got information wrong—mishandling facts was any lazy tribune’s prerogative. As it was July, Rubella was away. Since he had not bothered to inform the Prefect of Vigiles he had snatched a vacation, if Petro wanted, he could land Rubella in mule dung. However, he would be a fool to do so.

‘Falco, you know what I think of Rubella—’

I assured him I thought the same. Marcus Rubella was an over-promoted, super-ambitious, unreliable, self-seeking squit. However, I thought he was the best the cohort would get. ‘Fill me in, Petro.’

‘On Rubella?’

‘On the case, idiot.’

‘We found a hidden pack that must have belonged to that murder victim. Maybe he noticed he was being followed, so he tucked away his stuff just before he was grabbed.’

‘What’s the palace connection?’

‘He was carrying a draft petition to the Emperor.’

‘About?’