“I was not brought up to be anybody's client.”

“Papa supports Marcus Didius fully,” interposed Helena.

“I am sure that he would do.”

“It seems to me,” Helena carried on, growing fiercer, “Marcus has done as much for the Empire as he should do without formal recognition.”

“What do you think, Marcus Didius?” asked Caenis, ignoring Helena's anger.

“I would like to tackle this Census job. It poses a good challenge, and I don't deny it could be very lucrative.”

“I was not aware Vespasian paid you exorbitant fees!”

“He never has,” I grinned. “But this would be different. I won't act on piecework rates. I want a percentage of whatever income I recover for the state.”

‘Vespasian could never agree to that.” The lady was emphatic.

“Think about it.” I could be tough too.

“Why, what sort of amounts are we discussing?”

“If as many people as I suspect are attempting to fiddle their returns, the sums to be extracted from culprits will be enormous. The only limitation would be my personal stamina.”

“But you have a partner?” So she knew that.

“He's untried as yet, though I'm confident.”

“Who is he?”

“Just an out of work scrutineer my old mother took pity on.”

“Indeed.” I reckoned Antonia Caenis had discovered it was Anacrites. She might know him. She could dislike him as much as I did-or she could view him as Vespasian's servant and ally. I stared her out.

She smiled abruptly. It was frank, intelligent, and startlingly full of character. There was no recognition that she was an elderly woman who should feel ready to relinquish her place in the world. For a moment I glimpsed what Vespasian must always have seen in her. She must be well up to the old man's undoubted calibre. “Your proposition sounds attractive, Marcus Didius. I shall certainly discuss it with Vespasian if an occasion arises.”