I asked if he had heard any more from the Palace about apprehending the conspirators. Glancing around in case we were being overheard (the surest way to ensure we were), the senator lowered his voice.

“Titus Caesar whispers that certain gentlemen have dispersed!”

This furtive stuff was fun for him but not much practical help.

“Sir, I need to know who, and where to.”

He sucked his lip, but told me. Faustus Ferentinus had sailed for Lycia; he had gone without permission—which is forbidden to senators, who have to reside in Rome. Cornelius Gracilis asked for an interview with the Emperor, though his servants found him stretched out stiff with a sword in his right hand (he was left-handed) before he could attend; suicide—apparently. Curtius Gordianus and his brother Longinus had inherited sudden priesthoods at a minor temple beside the Ionian Sea, which was probably more punishing than any exile our kindly old tyrant Vespasian would devise for them himself. Aufidius Crispus had been spotted among the seaside crowds in Oplontis. It seemed to me no one who could lay his hands on a private mint of silver would let himself suffer high summer among the smart set in the fashionable villas along the Naples shore.

“What do you think?” Decimus asked.

“Titus ought to have Aufidius watched. Oplontis is only a few days from Rome. If nothing else turns up I’ll go down there myself, but I’m reluctant to leave while there’s any chance of locating the silver pigs. Has Titus found anything in Nap Lane?”

He shook his head. “My daughter will have access very soon.”

From the swimming pool to our left came the awkward flub as an overweight hearty with no real diving style launched himself off the side.

“I assume you won’t let Helena go there,” I warned him quietly. I ought to have used her full name, but it was too late now.

“No, no. My brother can inspect the place; he’ll be advising her on selling off the spice.”

“The building itself still belongs to the old man Marcellus?”

“Mmm. We shall empty it quickly as a courtesy to him, though Helena and old Marcellus are on good terms. He still regards her as his daughter-in-law. She has a knack of charming elderly men.”

I lay on my back, trying to appear like a man who might have failed to notice his Helena’s charm.

Helena’s father gazed thoughtfully upwards too.

“I worry about my daughter,” he revealed. With a wild pang of hysteria I thought, The horse has talked! “I made a mistake over Pertinax; I expect you know. She never blamed me, but I shall always blame myself.”

“She has very high standards,” I said, closing my eyes as if I was simply sleepy after my bathe. Hearing Decimus turn onto his elbow, I looked up.