"Draw your own conclusion from that-especially with the men-tion of daggers and arrows later on!"

I raised an eyebrow. "You think there's a plot against the consul's life, based on a blind item in the Daily Acts? It seems far-fetched, Lucius."

"It's not what I think. It's what Deci himself thinks. The poor fel-low's in a state; came to my house and roused me out of bed an hour ago, desperate for advice. He needs someone to get to the bottom of this, quietly and quickly. I told him I knew just the man: Gordianus the Finder;"

"Me?" I scowled at an olive pit between my forefinger and thumb. "Since the Daily is a state organ, surely Decimus Brutus himself, as consul, is in the best position to determine where this item came from and what it really means. To start, who wrote it?"

"That's precisely the problem."

"I don't understand."

"Do you see the part about 'Sappho' and her advice?" "Yes."

"Gordianus, who do you think writes and edits the Daily Acts?" I shrugged. "I never thought about it."

"Then I shall tell you. The consuls themselves dictate the items about politics and foreign policy, giving their own official viewpoint. The drier parts-trade figures, livestock counts and such-are compiled by clerks in the censor's office. Sporting news comes from the magistrates in charge of the Circus Maximus. Augurs edit the stories that come in about weird lightning flashes, comets, curiously shaped vegetables, and other omens. But who do you think oversees the society news-weddings and birth announcements, social engage-ments, 'blind items,' as you call them?"

"A woman named Sappho?"

"A reference to the poet of ancient Lesbos. The consul's wife is something of a poet herself."

"The wife of Decimus Brutus?"

"She wrote that item." Lucius leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Deci thinks she means to kill him, Gordianus."