The room which the public works officials had designated his private study, was in fact used by Hilaris as an extra public office. As well as his own reading couch, shapeless with use, he kept a table with benches where meetings could be held. There were plenty of sconces, all blazing, for it was late. His secretaries had left him on his own, immersed in figurework and thought.

He poured me wine. Kind gesture, I thought, putting me at ease. Then with a shock I realized, maybe putting me off guard!

Our interview was conducted with exhausting thoroughness. Compared with this Hilaris, my client Camillus Verus was just a squashy plum. I had already deleted the procurator from my suspects list (too obvious), but he made a point of discussing the Emperor, to demonstrate where his sympathies lay.

“No better man for the Empire—but this is new for Rome. Vespasian’s father was a middle rank finance officer, yet now Vespasian’s Emperor. My father was a finance officer—and so am I.”

I warmed to him. “Not quite, sir. You are the leading civilian in a prestigious new province, with an Emperor who looks on you as a friend. No one but the governor carries more weight in Britain than you. Your father’s highest position was as a third-grade tax collector, in a one-ox town in Dalmatia—” The only reason I knew this was because I had delved into his background before I came out. He realized that. He smiled. So did I.

“And your father was an auctioneer—” he threw back at me. My father disappeared so long ago, not many people are aware of that.

“Possibly still is!” I admitted morosely.

He made no comment. A polite man, though one who had made sure before I came out to his province that he knew all about me:

“As for you, Falco, two years’ army service, then five more as what the legions would call a scout—the type of army agent native tribesmen hang as a spy—”

“If they catch you!”

“Which they never did…So you were invalided out, recovered briskly—perhaps so briskly it smacks of sharp practice—then you took up your present work. My sources say you have a dozy reputation, though past clients speak well of you. Some of the women,” he observed, looking down with a prim mouth, “have an odd look when they do!”

I let that pass.

Then he confronted me with what we had been skirting round since the interview began: “You and I,” smiled the British financial procurator, “served in the same legion, Didius Falco.”

Well, I knew that. He must have realized.