`She's a menace.'

Helena grinned. `I said you would be delighted to take on her work.'

`I am not available to the widow Ursulina! She tried to grab me by the balls once.'

`Don't make excuses.'

Luckily the lads turned up and I forgot the harassing widow.

I divided up the suicide witnesses, two to each of the lads while I took three.

`What was the point of having all these witnesses, Falco?' Aelianus asked fretfully.

`It's like getting your will ratified, if you are an important bean. Looks good. Deters questions. In theory it stops Forum gossip. In this case it also raises expectations of a good scandal.'

`Nobody will query certification by seven senators,' mocked Helena. `As if senators would ever conspire to lie!'

We would be lucky if any of the seven agreed to see us. Having signed the certificate, they would hope to be left alone. Senators try to be unobtainable to the public. To be asked about their noble signatures by a pack of harrying informers would seem outrageous.

Sure enough, Aelianus failed to interview either of the men allocated to him. Justinus saw one of his.

`A strike! How come?,

'I pretended I had a good tip on a horse race.'

`Smart!' I must try that.

`I wish I hadn't bothered. He was rude, Falco.'

`You expected that, you're grown up. Tell.'

`He grudgingly said they were all called to the house by Calpurnia Cara. She announced calmly that since losing the court case, her husband had decided to seek an honourable exit from public life. She told them he had taken poison that afternoon; he wished them – as his circle of friends – to observe the scene and formally certify suicide. This, she said, would simplify matters for his family. They knew what she meant. They did not see Metellus die, but inspected the corpse. He was lying on his bed, dead. He wore a grimace, had a nasty pallor, and smelt of diarrhoea. A small sardonyx pillbox lay open on a side table. The seven men all signed the declaration, which the widow has.'