I had established my own space at a small wooden counter where I could watch the world going by. Anacrites wound himself on to a stool in the darker rear area. His unobtrusive oyster tunic and oiled-back hair merged into the shadows, so only his smooth pale face stood out. He was looking worried, leaning back his head on the partition as if to hide the great cleft of his wound. Memory and logic were both playing tricks on him. All the same, he seemed to have brightened when he joined me in partnership; he gave the peculiar impression he was looking forward to his new active life.

“Don't tell Pa what we're doing for the Census, or the news will be everywhere by dinner time.”

“Well what can I tell him, Falco?” As a spy he had always lacked initiative.

“Internal audit.”

“Oh right! That usually makes people lose interest rapidly. What shall we say to suspects?”

“Have to be careful. We don't want them to realize our draconian powers.”

“No. They might respond by offering us bribes.”

“Which we are far too respectable to accept,” I said.

“Not unless the bribes are very handsome indeed,” replied Anacrites demurely.

“As with any luck they will be,” I chortled back.

“Here we are!” Pa reappeared, carrying an amphora. “I told the vintner you'd call in later to pay for it.”

“Oh thanks!” Pa squashed in beside me, and gestured expectantly for the formal introductions he had brushed aside before. “Anacrites, this is my father, the devious miser Didius Favonius. Otherwise known as Geminus; he had to change his name because there were too many angry people after him.”

My new partner evidently thought I had introduced him to a fascinating character, some colourful and sought after Saepta eccentric. Actually they had met before, when we were all involved in searching goods in a treason case. Neither seemed to remember it.