Nemesis

This left Minas, the Camilli and me standing in a square, each holding a crayfish tail and asking one another what in Hades we were doing there.

Justinus reminded me that we knew from a previous visit Anacrites kept obscene statues in a secret room. Minas brightened, hoping for a private view. 'This should be a good night, Falco!' he boomed. I saw Aulus, who had a keen idea of Minas' liquid capacity, smile fixedly. 'I am so looking forward to it!' Minas confided to me, leaning close in a hideous aura of lunchtime wine and garlic. 'This man must have very great influence, I think? He knows important people? The Emperor, perhaps? Anacrites can do us favours?'

I nodded gravely. 'Tiberius Claudius Anacrites would be proud to know you believe that, Minas.'

XXXII

We were called to dine. The old dining room was indoors and a touch cosy. The hired hands had decorated its three crushed-together stone couches with coverlets in some shiny fabric the colour of pomegranate juice. They must have misjudged what kind of bachelor Anacrites was. A single rose, suspended from the centre of the ceiling, made the traditional statement that anything we said would be in confidence.

'Surely,' Albia piped up, all wide-eyed innocence, 'only an idiot would mention any secrets in a spy's house?'

'Now I remember your daughter!' cried Minas, clapping me around the shoulders so hard I nearly lost my footing (he had only just remembered me, I reckoned). 'This minx is too astute!'

'Oh these days intrigue is the only game in town, Minas.' Thanks to the bagginess of the russet tunic, a good wriggle helped me slide free of the Greek's grip. 'Anacrites loves people to come here and commit treason. He gets a thrill thinking they are his guests so he can't arrest them.'

Anacrites looked disorientated.

We were nine at dinner, naturally. To break convention would be too daring for our host. He must have given much thought to his placements, but when the rest of us arrived in the triclinium, Helena was shifting people around to avert awkward situations: making sure I could grill Anacrites; putting Albia and Aelianus apart; not imposing the bombastic Minas on anyone shy…

Minas thought he should take precedence, but this was Rome and he was foreign; he stood no chance. 'Both brothers Camilli are standing for the Senate -' Anacrites said, as he tried to guide them into his chosen places. They were talking about the races and failed to notice him.

'They'll be voted out,' snapped their sister.

'Oh thank you!' they chorused half-heartedly. She just grabbed each one and shoved him where she wanted him. For would-be empire-governors, the duo submitted like wimps. Albia was chortling at this, until she was frogmarched to the end of the inferior couch. 'Young girl's prerogative,' Helena soothed her. 'You get the easy exit to the lavatory and you can reach the food trays for seconds.'

Minas still took too much interest in which was the seat of honour. 'The one on the right-hand corner of the middle couch, I think

…?' Fired up by some tourist guide to Roman etiquette, he was aiming his big belly in that direction.

Helena shepherded me there. She pushed Minas to the other end. 'With the best views of the garden and statuary if we were out of doors -' Due to the deficiencies of Anacrites' house, we were facing a dowdy corridor. 'Marcus is the only person who has held a significant public post, Minas; he was Procurator of Juno's Sacred Geese.' If I was top man, and by virtue of supervising a flock of birds, that showed this dinner's low status.

Minas pouted. I grinned and to distract him I explained, 'It's a sad story, Minas. Government short-sightedness. I lost the job ignominiously, in a round of treasury cutbacks.' I always wondered if Anacrites had had something to do with it. 'Juno's Geese and the Augurs' Sacred Chickens were heartbroken to lose me. Their loyalty is touching, in fact. I go up on the Capitol regularly to see the clucks for old times' sake; I shall never lose my sense of responsibility.'

'You are fooling?' Minas was only half right.

'Forget convention. I think the best places are the centre of the couches – -' Still struggling to seat everyone, Helena steered Anacrites between Minas and me. Aelianus had to go at the top of the left-hand couch, talking across the corner to Minas, with Hosidia behind him; Justinus was opposite Hosidia with Claudia above him, adjacent to me across the other top corner. Albia was below Justinus. He was a good lad and would talk to her; she would probably hope to upset Aelianus by being friendly with his brother. At the far end of the left-hand couch, Helena was stuck with Hosidia. Good manners would have placed Helena next to me, but she had demoted herself in order to put the spy in my range. At least I could wink down the room at her.

During the appetisers, our host led the conversation – - as much as he could do, with Minas tipsily interrupting. We had seen him in action; as a symposium-crawler no one could touch him, even in Athens' exhausting party whirl.

The wine was better than good; Anacrites discussed it fluently. Perhaps he had taken himself to wine-buffery classes. At any rate, he served palatable mulsum with the appetisers, not too sweet, then a very fine Caecubian. One of the best wines in the Empire, that must have cost a packet. He also introduced us to an unfamiliar variety he had just acquired, from Pucinum; he was dying for us to ask where Pucinum was so he could show off, but nobody bothered. 'What do you think, Falco? The Empress Livia always drank Pucinum wines, ascribing her long life to their medicinal qualities.'

'Very nice – - though the phrase "medicinal qualities" slightly puts me off!'

'Well, it kept her going to eighty-three, outliving her contemporaries – -'

'I thought that was because she had poisoned them all…'

I asked for a separate water cup and drank the wine sparingly. Anacrites knew me well enough to have seen me do it before. I had a curious sense that tonight he wanted to relax for once – yet now he was torn, in case loosening up gave me some advantage.

While he continued to hold forth on vintages, I chatted to my other neighbour, Claudia Rufina. The three Camillus siblings were all lofty but Justinus had married a woman tall enough to look him in the eye; this Claudia now saw as necessary since he could be a rogue, an edgy character who needed constant watching. On a dining couch designed for our stumpy republican ancestors, she was having problems twisting herself to fit. But once she settled, Claudia gossiped with me on the current situation in the senator's house. 'Things are tense, Marcus.'

Minas had emptied the Camillus wine cellar in about five days. The amiable senator declined to restock, so Minas got huffy. Then Camillus senior hit on the idea that Aelianus and his bride should live next door; he owned the adjacent house, where his brother had once lived. It was decreed that Minas must stay with the couple. 'Julia Justa said, So nice for him to see a lot of his daughter, before he goes back to Greece… I don't think the professor intends going back, Marcus!'

'No; he is determined to be a big rissole in Rome.'

'I would have thought,' said Claudia, who was a kind-hearted girl, 'the newly-weds might be given some time to themselves – especially as they don't seem to have had much opportunity yet to get to know each other.' That was ironic. Claudia and Quintus would probably stick out their marriage (she had an excellent olive oil fortune which encouraged him mightily), but they were experts at communication failure.