In these circumstances Milvia could be seen as in need of consolation. As an officer of the vigiles Petronius Longus was taking a risk it he provided it. As the husband of Arria Silvia, a violent force to be reckoned with at any time, he was crazy, He should have left the delicious Milvia to struggle with life on her own.

Until today I had been pretending I knew nothing about it, He would never have listened to me anyway. He had never listened when we were in the army and his eye fell on lush Celtic beauties who had large, red-haired, bad-tempered British fathers, and he had never listened since we came home to Rome either.

'You're not in love with Milvia?'

He looked amazed at the question. I had known I was on safe ground suggesting that his fling might not be serious. What was serious to Petronius Longus was being the husband of a girl who had brought him a very handsome dowry (which he would have to repay if she divorced him) and being the father of Petronilla, Silvana and Tadia, who adored him and whom he doted on. We all knew that, though convincing Silvia might be tricky if she had heard about sweet little Milvia. And Silvia had always known how to speak up for herself.

'So what's the situation?'

'Silvia threw me out.'

'What's new?'

'It was a good two months ago.'

I whistled. `Where are you living, then?' Not with Milvia. Milvia was married to Florius. Florius was so weak even, his womenfolk didn't bother to henpeck him, but he was clinging fast to Milvia because her dowry – created with the proceeds of organised crime – was enormous.

'I'm at the patrol house.'

`Unless I'm drunker than I think, didn't this whole conversation begin with you being suspended from the vigiles?'

'That,' Petro conceded, 'does make it rather complicated when I want to crawl in for a few hours' kip.'