Before I went upstairs I paused to pay my respects to Lenia, the haggard virago who owned and ran the laundry that occupied the ground floor. Thunder was still growling about, so not much was going on because nothing they bothered to wash would ever dry. A very tall man draped in a rather short toga was standing in silence while his wife harangued Lenia about sending back wrong laundry. Lenia was getting the worst of some tense issue about a stain, so when I popped my head indoors she left them at once and came to be rude to me.

'Falco, you half-arsed donkey-drover! Who let you back into Rome?'

'Public demand for my civilising influence.'

'Hah! Good trip?'

'Wish I had stayed there-my apartment's wrecked.'

'Oh really?' Lenia, who had connections with the snail slime I called my landlord, assumed an expression as though she would love to talk further, but must urgently dash to the pie shop before the ovens cooled.

'You know it is!' I retorted. In a dispute with the landlord there was no future; still, raising my voice eased the knot that was strangling my liver.

'Don't involve me. Speak to Smaractus:'

'I'm looking forward to the pleasure!'

'He's out of town. ' That parasite Smaractus had probably heard I was back and arranged himself a six-month stay at his holiday home on Lake Volsena. Yachting would be a cold sport in March. 'So people got in, did they?' Lenia must have spotted the interlopers every time they took the stairs. In fact, they had probably stuffed a silver coin in her fist to find out where there was an empty roost. 'That's terrible!'

I gave up the struggle. 'Are my womenfolk here?'

'There's been some toing and froing. Your sister dropped in earlier.' That could have meant any one of five-no, four now. Victorina was gone.

'Maia?' Only Maia would put herself out for me.

Lenia nodded. 'Oh, and that bastard Petronius was looking for you.'