I noticed the senator was looking tired. I asked, and rather to my surprise he said without any hesitation, “I had a terrible interview this morning with Sosia Camillina’s mother—she had just returned from abroad and received the news. Falco, how are you getting on with your investigation? Is there any chance I will be able to tell her soon that we have at least identified who struck the blow? Will the man who killed Sosia ever be brought to book? The woman was very agitated; she even wanted to employ someone herself to take over the case.”

“With respect to me, my rates are the cheapest she will get!”

“And with respect to us,” the senator said rather stiffly, “my family are not wealthy, but we shall do all that can be done!”

“I thought Sosia did not know her mother?” I probed.

“No.” He was silent for a moment, then finally explained. “It was all somewhat unfortunate, and I make no excuses for the way my brother behaved. Sosia’s mother was a woman of some status, married as you may have realized, and there was never any suggestion that she wished to alter that. Her husband is an ex-consul now, with all that entails; even at the time he was a prominent man. The lady and my brother became friendly while her man was away on a three-year diplomatic tour; his absence from the scene meant that when she became pregnant it would have been impossible for her to pretend the child was their own.”

“Yet she carried it?”

“Refused to have an abortion. Took a moral stand.”

“Bit late!” I scoffed. The senator looked uncomfortable. “So you brought the child up for them, among your own family?”

“Yes. My brother agreed to adopt her—” I wondered how much pressure Decimus had had to exert to persuade Publius to do that. “From time to time I let the woman know how Sosia was, and she insisted on giving me money to buy her daughter presents, but it seemed best for them not to meet. That does not make it at all easy now!”

“What happened today?”

“Oh…the poor woman said a lot of things I could not blame her for. The worst was, she accused my wife and I of negligence.”

“Oh that’s unfair, surely sir?”

“I hope so,” he muttered anxiously, evidently much exercised by the possibility. “Julia Justa and I certainly tried to do our best for Sosia. All my family were deeply fond of her. After that attempt to kidnap her, my wife forbade Sosia to leave the house; we thought that was enough. What else could we do? Were we wrong? But Sosia’s mother accuses me of letting her run round the streets like a Transtiberina match-girl…”

He was distressed. I was finding the conversation pretty painful myself, so I did my best to calm him down and changed the subject as soon as I could.