Her name was Januaria. She looked fifteen, was probably twenty, and would be killed by hard work before another decade passed. She had stabled our ox, cooked our dinner, explained the wine list (that took no effort), pulled heavy benches closer to the table, filled jugs from a cask and served us, including several detours to the two vigiles outside. None of us had asked, but it was understood that if we wanted, she would go to bed with us as well; all seven, if necessary, on whatever rotation basis we suggested. It would probably cost no more than a soft-boiled egg.

Januaria obligingly told us a posse turned up here about two months ago. A town magistrate who was hoping to go home as soon as possible arrived on horseback, in charge of volunteers who were hoping at least for a fight. After a hearty lunch, they toddled off into the marshes to tackle the Claudii. Following ingrained tradition, those scurrilous runts all swore blind they never saw Modestus or Primilla after the broken fence incident. They provided alibis for one another, in the usual way of large families.

‘Then there wasn’t much more to be done. Suspicion fell mainly on Probus and Nobilis.’

‘Nobilis and Probus? Noble and Honourable?’ I could hardly believe the irony of these names.

The simple girl didn’t see my point. ‘Those two are the best known— and most feared. They hang around together a lot. But Probus now has his own business—he buys and sells harness; second-hand mostly.’ That probably meant stolen, though she did not suggest it. ‘Nobilis has been working for Thamyris, a grain supplier in Antium, though Probus swore blind to the militia that his brother had gone away. So he couldn’t have done anything, could he?’

‘Away where?’ asked Petronius. ‘Campania? Rome? Overseas?’

‘No, somewhere real foreign.’ The girl knew nothing of other regions of Italy, let alone the overseas provinces. Our glorious Empire meant little to her. She had never even been to Antium, which was only seven miles away.

‘When did he leave?’

‘We haven’t seen him in Satricum for months, but that’s not unusual. The Claudii come and go.’

‘Do you think he fled because he knew people would be looking for him?’

‘He’s never been scared before.’

I shoved Petronius along his bench and muscled in. It took effort. He was bigger than me and resisting like a recalcitrant old hog. ‘So, excellent young lady with the beautiful eyes—’ Januaria giggled as if no man had ever chatted her up before. Clearly few from Rome stayed here. ‘What do you know about these rascals, the Claudii? Are there many of them?’

‘Plenty. They live a bit rough, except some of the girls, who got away and married and have families.’

‘I’m Falco, by the way.’ I gave her my best smile, the version with dimples, which has been called seductive.