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you can fix up two? I took myself to the Palatine. I was fobbed off with an excuse I knew of old that the Emperor was visiting his Sabine estate. In any case, Vespasian would quite likely pooh-pooh the Olympus trip but afflict me with some ghastly political mission in the foggy north (like the one where he lumbered me with the imperial barber, Xanthus)
    Instead, I set about persuading one of the palace bureau chiefs, Claudius Laeta, that the double death could lead to a crisis in public confidence. Caesius was still denouncing a cover-up, Valeria Ventidia had been sister-in-law to a senatorial candidate, any moment now, these shocking murders would feature in the Daily Gazette. Laeta knew I had contacts at the Gazette.
    'Women are being preyed on.' The slimy swine sounded too keen on that idea.
    'Unmarried girls and young brides,' I specified. 'High potential for public revulsion.'
    'Officially, our position is that we wish senatorials would stay in Italy.'
    'Well, they won't do it, Laeta. So are respectable families to be unprotected, while travelling in a Roman province?'
    'Your high-mindedness stinks, Falco!'
    To get rid of me, Laeta agreed to fund one week at Olympia investigating, plus travel to Corinth so I could report to the governor (the worst aspect of the job, since he would hate having a palace intermediary poking about his province unasked.)
    I had no intention of using Seven Sights. I assembled my own travel group. First, while most people were wondering who I would take with me, I made sure I left the right ones behind. I did not tell my father I was going, even though he had business contacts in Greece They were dubious. The Greek art trade is notorious. Leaving him behind saved more trouble than anything.
    With more regret, I also declined Helena's younger brother, Quintus. I liked him as a travelling companion; he was organised, easygoing, and spoke very good Greek. But his young Baetican wife, who had just given him a son, was vexed with him; blatant pressure from the rest of the Camillus family persuaded me - and Quintus - that his domestic ties came first. (In the event, this was to rebound badly. For once, the problem would not be my fault.)
    Helena took a tricky decision about our own children; here, I was blamed. Helena said that our trip last year to Britain with Julia and Favonia had been a strain for them and for us, they needed a more settled routine; since we planned to be in Greece for only a few weeks, this time our children would be left with their grandmother (her mother). Among Roman officials it was standard practice for infants to remain in Italy while their father served abroad.
    I let Helena explain these arrangements to my own mother. Luckily Ma was feeling her age and she recognised that a senator's house, full of spare rooms and doting slaves, was a good place for two lively toddlers. She did point out that most travelling officials left their wives at home, especially if they were good mothers. Helena deflected Ma; I only found out afterwards she did it by saying that she and I needed more time alone if we were to produce our next baby... Ma did not know that the bundle of dried sausages she gave us (since it is well known that you starve abroad) were nestling in a luggage pack between other items for every eventuality: sunhats, snowboots - and a soapstone pot of alum, anti-conception wax.
    Yes, Helena Justina was coming with me. Why ask?
    And of course the next question was: what about Nux? I begged my mother to babysit my dog. Already put out, Ma told me where to stuff that bright idea. Nux came with us. Now I was damned as the man who happily abandoned his children - yet refused to part from a smelly mongrel.
    Albia, our foster-daughter, wanted a jaunt. Many people asked us why, if we were leaving our children, we took their nursemaid. The straight answer was, Albia was not the nursemaid. The other answer was, we had intended her to stay behind.
    Albia hailed from Britain - one of