Free Graveyard of the Hesperides by Lindsey Davis

first job, they must have been dire. “Were you working here on her last night?” Nods. “Remember anything out of the ordinary?” Head shakes. “Was the bar full?”
    â€œLively.”
    â€œAll regulars?”
    â€œYes,” said Natalis.
    And “No,” Nipius contradicted, before he noticed that Natalis was signaling him to hush. I waited. “We had a party of salesmen in.”
    â€œPart of the time,” Natalis downplayed it. He picked at his acne, which could be his way of taking his mind off something difficult. I doubted he knew he was doing it.
    â€œOut for a good time?” I asked dryly, knowing what dealers and distributors are like. The waiters groaned in confirmation. “Did they cause any trouble?” No. “Did Rufia serve them?”
    â€œYes, Rufia looked after them.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” I was sharp. “Come on, I know what happens. Did the party of salesmen stop at drinks, or did any of them have extras?”
    The salesmen all had sex. Of course they did. They were salesmen.
    When I demanded more details, Natalis and Nipius admitted this had happened in the rooms upstairs. They said they were unable to supply positions, time taken, or whether there were interesting twosomes or threesomes. I ignored their sarcasm.
    â€œTwosomes and threesomes are never as interesting as people hope. Too mechanical, they have to be. Positioning the bodies requires a commissariat.” Nipius and Natalis raised their eyebrows at my inside knowledge. “I read widely!” And I listen to other people’s conversations. “Lads, I take it this was a regular happening? How much did it cost?”
    They feigned ignorance of sordid details.
    â€œCome off it! Upstairs is where I found you two this morning. You know exactly what goes on there. Is it where you have always slept?”
    No. Since the upper rooms were out of use for commercial purposes at the moment, the waiters had taken them over. After their late-night shifts, they slept in for most of the morning, except when people like me came along to disturb them.
    What shifts? I asked how they earned their living while the Hesperides was being renovated. They had obtained temporary work at the Four Limpets. According to them, Liberalis knew all this, was perfectly happy, let them scrounge beds meanwhile, and would give them their old jobs back when he reopened.
    â€œHe seems a very kind landlord!”
    It could be true. Well, he was new.
    Bar staff do come and go; they are even sometimes lent out to rival establishments on special occasions. The only reason you get served by your usual waiter at Saturnalia is that he wants his holiday bonus from you so he makes sure he’s there, not two doors down. Count yourself lucky if he reciprocates with a complimentary wine flagon. Even if he does, don’t drink it, just use the stuff as skillet cleaner or, if you must, to color gravy.
    â€œSo who was it I heard upstairs with you today?” Nobody, they claimed. I gave them a level stare, though kept my response light. “You must think I’m deaf or daft, boys!”
    We did not pursue the issue.
    As with the victimarii yesterday afternoon, I felt these chancers were being cagey. These witnesses were male. I won’t say I see men as unreliable, but maybe I could extract more from a woman, especially one who had been on good terms with Rufia. Whoever was being concealed upstairs might provide what I wanted. Once the men were off the premises, I would rootle their floozies out.
    In the meantime, Manlius Faustus came into the courtyard. He must have left Dromo somewhere, probably squatting on the curb outside, which was where slaves usually waited for their masters. Faustus was carrying the basket of bones himself. He set it down, and stood waiting as I closed my interview.
    â€œDoes the Four Limpets employ you at lunchtimes? Better hop along there now and start laying up