Petronius, tall and hefty, was not in formal funeral clothes, but had simply thrown an extra-dark cloak over the battered brown gear he usually wore. I guessed that back in Rome he was due at the vigiles’ patrol house for a night shift. I thanked him for coming all the more; he just shrugged. ‘We’ve got a really puzzling case, Falco. I’d welcome your advice —’

My sister laid a hand on his arm. ‘Lucius, not now.’ Maia, with her dark curls and characteristic quick movements, looked odd and unfamiliar in black; she usually flitted about in very bright colours. Her face was pale, but she was businesslike.

I would have hugged her, but now the house had emptied, Maia broke away and threw herself on to a couch. ‘Did you see this coming, sis?’

‘Not really, though Pa had complained of feeling off-colour. Your Egypt trip knocked it out of him.’

‘Not my idea. I had banned him. I knew he’d be a menace, and he was.’

‘Oh I realise. Look,’ Maia said, ‘I won’t annoy you with details, but I went quickly through the diary with Gornia. We will carry on with all the booked auctions but won’t take any new orders. You’ll have a lot of sorting out, whatever happens to the business.’

‘Oh Jupiter! Sorting out — what a nightmare. . Why me?’ I finally managed to voice it out loud.

Petronius looked surprised. ‘You are the son. He thought a lot of you.’

‘No, he thought Marcus was a self-righteous prig,’ my sister disagreed in a casual tone. She threw insults as if she had hardly noticed doing it, though her barbs were generally apt and always intentional. ‘Still, Marcus always does a good job. And apart from behaving like a bastard at every opportunity, Father was a traditionalist.’

‘Maybe all fathers are bastards,’ I commented. I like to be fair. ‘He knew what I thought of him. I told him often enough.’

‘Well, he knew you were honest!’ said Maia, laughing a little.