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clear about this, Corvinus. As far as I am concerned, that woman has no connection with our family, and no claims on it. She’s a troublemaker and a gold-digger, and my advice to you would be to take anything she says with a very large pinch of salt.’
    ‘Would it, now?’ I said. ‘So does that mean she’s not the owner of your west wing? What she called the Old Villa?’
    The scowl was back in spades. ‘At present, unfortunately, yes,’ he said. ‘But I’m contesting her ownership. And
that
is frankly none of your business.’
    ‘Does she feature in your father’s will at all?’
    ‘
Valerius Corvinus!
’
    I shrugged. ‘It’s just that, if she is a gold-digger, I thought that she might. And that’d be quite interesting. If, which it won’t, of course, the death turned out to be murder after all.’
    Again I got the long, slow, considering look. ‘As a matter of fact,’ Junior said finally, ‘she is one of the beneficiaries, and quite a substantial one. My father left her the interest on fifty thousand sesterces, the capital to be hers absolutely on marriage.’
    Shit! Fifty thousand sesterces was a hell of a lot of gravy, particularly to an ‘entertainer’. And the interest, at the average rate of eight to ten per cent, would come to just shy of five thousand a year. Quite a respectable income, to put it mildly.
    ‘Does she know?’ I said.
    ‘I expect so. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t; he was open enough with her where everything else was concerned. But, of course, you’d have to ask the lady herself. If you can trust her to give an honest answer.’
    I let that one pass. Still, it was something that needed serious thinking about. By the gods, it did. I stood up.
    ‘Well, if that’s all you can tell me, Naevius Surdinus,’ I said, ‘I won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you for talking to me, and of course my condolences. If I could just have a look at the tower?’
    ‘Certainly.’ There was a bell-pull beside the door. He walked past me and pulled it. ‘My estate manager, Leonidas, will show you it. I’ll have him fetched. Good day, Corvinus.’

FIVE
    D espite his Greek name, Leonidas turned out to be a bustling little Sicilian, officious and desperate to be of use, who prattled all the way. Which was absolutely fine with me.
    ‘He was a lovely man, sir. A lovely man, and a lovely master. No one could’ve asked for a better, I’m sure. And so quiet-living. Give him his books and charts and his astro-what-d’ye-call-’em thingies, or a couple of them clever friends of his to sit with over dinner and a cup or two of wine of an evening, and he was happy as a sandboy.’
    ‘You happen to know any of their names?’ I said.
    ‘The friends? Well, now, let’s see.’ He stopped. ‘There was the two Julii, Canus and Graecinus. No relation, although as you’ll guess from the family name, they was both Gallic gentlemen originally. Graecinus, he’s one of the city judges this year. Then there’s Aemilius Rectus. Rectus by name and Rectus by nature, you might say. He’s a proper stiff one, that gentleman. Comes of being a … what’s-its-name, begins with an S. Sort of philosopher.’
    ‘Stoic?’
    He beamed. ‘The very word, sir, well done! Comes of being a Stoic, like. They all was, the master included, come to that, but he was the real article, right down the line, accept no imitations. Not that he couldn’t be affable enough when he was in the mood. A senatorial gentleman, like Graecinus, been a city judge himself in the past. There was plenty of others, on and off, but them three was what you might call the master’s regulars.’
    We set off again, along a side path off the main drag. ‘Your master wasn’t political himself?’ I said.
    ‘Bless you, sir, no, not these many years. He gave that sort of thing up altogether after he’d done his consulship.’
    ‘You know why?’
    ‘No, sir, I don’t. Not for sure. But between you and me I think it had