I limped to my feet, distancing myself as I spoke that name. It was a long time since I had thought of Sosia so directly; the memory was still unbearable. If I was going to think about Sosia Camillina, I wanted to be alone.

I walked over to the fishpond, huddled in my cloak. Helena remained on the bench. She must have spoken to no more than a grey shape, whose cloak flapped occasionally in the night wind rising off the sea. I heard her call out quietly.

“Before I face my people it would be helpful to know how my cousin died.”

Gaius, who must have broken the news to her, would suppress details if he could. Since I respected her, I told her the bare facts.

“Where were you?” Helena asked in a low voice.

“Unconscious in a laundry.”

“Was that connected?”

“No.”

“Were you her lover?” she managed to force out. Silence. “Answer me. I’m paying you, Falco!”

Only because I knew her stubbornness, did I eventually answer. “No.”

“Did you want to be?”

I remained silent long enough for that to be an answer in itself.

“You had the chance! I know you did…Why not then?”

“Class,” I stated. “Age. Experience.” After a moment I added, “Stupidity!”

Then she asked me about morals. It seemed to me my morality was self-evident. It was none of her business, but in the end I told her a man should not abuse the eagerness of a young girl who has seen what she wants, and owns the instincts to obtain it, but lacks courage to cope with the inevitable grief afterwards.

“Had she lived, someone else would have brought Sosia disillusion. I did not want it to be me.”

The night wind was rising, tugging at my cloak. My heart felt very grey. I needed to stop this.

“I’m going in.” I had no intention of leaving my client alone in the dark; by now if there was any justice she knew that. Raucous revelry intruded from the mansio. She was uneasy in public places, and Massilia during drinking time is no place for a lady. No place for anyone; I was starting to feel unhappy out here in the open myself.

I waited, not impatiently.

“Better see you up.”

I took her to the door of her room, as I had always done before. Probably she never knew how many offensive types I warned away during our trip. One night in a place where locks had yet to be invented and the clientele were particularly vile, I had slept across her threshold with my knife. Since I never told her, she had no chance to be grateful. I preferred it that way. It was my job. This, even though she was too awkward to have spelled out the contract, was what the precious little lady was paying me for.