Alexandria

'They went out, Marcus.' Helena appraised me. I must look a wreck, but she was cool, clean, beautiful in garnet reel and a russet stole. Her face seemed pared and hollow, but her eyes were clear. Although she wore no cosmetic tints, she had dressed her fine hair meticulously, holding it in place with a full pantheon of long ivory pins, topped with little goddesses. Her custom was to be carefully groomed after I had had a scrape – to remind me that I did have someone worth coming home to. 'I had told them you got into trouble in a bar… they believed it very readily. Perhaps you should buff up your reputation, dearest.' She spoke as a long-term partner discussing work, reasserting her own importance. I knew that attitude. It posed no threat. Her sniping tone would be temporary. 'I believe they are hoping to meet Diogenes.'

'He won't turn up!' I shifted about; every joint ached. I found it impossible to get comfortable. 'The military will try to keep a lid on what happened – the Pharos is remote enough, but there were members of the public all over the place. Rumours will leak out.'

'Well, when you came back last night, I rushed down and took over. I have done my best to hide what happened.'

Helena had been magnificent: alarmed, naturally, she pretended to be coping with a reprobate husband; shooed everyone else back to bed. I had heard her rapid enquiries of my escort, their sheepish answers. I remembered her scanning me for wounds, or possibly wicked women's perfumes.

That made me smile at her, a long, deep smile of reassurance and love. Accepting it, Helena hauled herself from her stool, and came across to me. After moving the tray to a side table, she took our daughters' place in my arms, as we held one another for comfort, reconciliation and relief. Once it would have led to more. I was too exhausted; she was too pregnant; we were too intrigued by our enquiries. We lay there, thinking. Don't sneer until you've tried it.

Aulus turned up. He said he had told Pastous to go into hiding – it was either that or protective custody. The fish restaurant where we ate lunch the other day had rooms for hire; Pastous was now secretly staying there. I gave Aulus directions and cash for reward purposes, then sent him across the city to recover the cartload of scrolls that Diogenes abandoned in the street last night. Albia went with him for the adventure.

'I warn you, the man took it into his head I was entrusting him with pornographic literature.'

'I wonder why he would believe that?' mused Helena.

I went to the baths as soon as they opened, then spent the rest of the morning at home. Once I would have bounced back faster, but I had reached an age when a whole night of strenuous activity – not the kind involving women – left me in deep need of recovery time. I consoled myself that Egypt was famous for its sensual baths and exotic masseurs – only to find that the baths near my uncle's house had nothing better to offer than a miserable washing-slave from Pelusion, who slathered me in sickly iris oil then gave me a half-hearted neck massage while he endlessly told me his family problems. It had no effect on my aches and made me utterly depressed. I advised him to leave his wife, but he had married her for her inheritance, which due to the complicated Egyptian inheritance laws, where property was divided between all the children, came to thirty-three two-hundred-and-fortieths of their building.

'Nevertheless, trust me – leave your wife and get a dog. Choose one who has his own kennel, then you can share that and live with him.'

It went down badly.

Chewing gloomily on a quid of papyrus he sold me, I crawled home to Helena. She met me in the courtyard with a warning that the old men had come in; they had gone into a huddle upstairs. Cassius had told her they had heard that Diogenes was in a coma, in military custody, and it was certain he would not live. Before they could tackle me, I commandeered the palanquin and fled. Helena came with me; we set off for the Museion.

LII

Philadelphion was gazing at a herd of gazelles, perhaps trying to seek solace in the company of animals. Gazelles were not the best choice; they grazed in a spacious enclosure, indifferent to his mournful scrutiny. Occasionally they would stiffen, heads up. then bound away from imagined danger. He simply continued to stare across their pasture.

We dragged him away, chivvying briskly. I was in no mood for melancholy.

'Leave me alone, Falco. I've already had that centurion down here, making my life dreadful.'

'He told you one of your staff died last night at the Pharos?'

'It was Chaeteas. I identified the body. Since his cousin seems to have gone missing, I shall take responsibility for a funeral…'The man who had seemed so competent and restrained when he conducted the necropsy – when was it? – only six days ago – had sunk into unexpected misery.

Helena and I led him in a quick march to his office. Philadelphion halted outside, as if reluctant to enter this scene of so many conversations and experiments, shared with his two assistants. 'I had known them since they were boys. I taught them all I knew…'

'So you cannot explain why they were roving through the city in chase of Diogenes yesterday?' Helena asked gently.

The handsome, silver-haired man looked at her sadly. 'No idea. Absolutely no idea… This business is incredible.'

'It was all too real at the time!' I growled. 'Get a grip. I want to know what they had against the trader.'

'I know very little about him, Falco -'

'What would Chaereas and Chaeteas have to do with a scroll-seller?' Losing patience, I shoved Philadelphion on to a stool and loomed over him. 'Look, man – enough people have died in murky circumstances at the Museion! First your madcap pair were implicated in Sobek's release -'

'Oh that was merely carelessness. They had their minds elsewhere – Roxana saw them standing by the crocodile enclosure talking together so earnestly they were not thinking properly about fastening the locks.'

'Talking about what?' Helena asked.

She deliberately used a mild tone and the Zoo Keeper answered, 'Their grandfather.' Immediately he looked as if he regretted it.

'He had died? I remembered we had been told they were at a funeral, shortly after the Sobek tragedy. 'They were upset?'

'No – no, Falco, they had not learned about their grandfather at that time -' Philadelphion was flapping his hands, apparently torturing himself.

I gave him a slight shake. 'So what were they discussing so intently? Did the gorgeous Roxana eavesdrop?'

'No, of course not.'

'Still,' Helena helped me put on pressure, 'I think you know what the conversation was about. You must know what was troubling Chaereas and Chaeteas. You had a long relationship with them. When they had a problem, they would bring it to you.'

'This is very difficult,' Philadelphion whimpered.

'We understand.' Helena soothed him. Fortunately for him, I was too weary to wring his neck. 'I suppose they told you in confidence?'

'They had to; it could have caused a great scandal… Yes, Helena Justina, you are correct. I know what was troubling my assistants – and troubling their grandfather.' Quite suddenly Philadelphion straightened up. We relaxed. He would tell us the story.

At his best once again, he kept it succinct. Elements of this story sounded familiar. The two cousins' grandfather was a scholar who had been working m the Great Library; once, unobserved, he overheard the Museion Director arranging to sell library scrolls privately to Diogenes. The grandfather took the story to Theon, who had an inkling already of what was going on. Theon attempted to dissuade Philetus, with no success. Then Theon died. The grandfather was at a loss what to do, so he turned to his grandsons for advice.

'Chaereas and Chaeteas told him to report it to you, Falco.'

'He never did so.'

'But you know?'

'I found out myself. I really could have used this grandfather's testimony,' I complained. 'Who is he, or should I say, who was he?'