Lindsey Davis - Alexandria

You are bloody joking! I thought, unable to reply or raise a Roman quip of suitable nobility. Still I gripped on – as I explained to Helena much later, holding the jaws shut from behind very firmly.

'Got him! Loose your grip, Falco. Falco – loose him now!'

I could not let go. My arms were locked. Terror kept me there, in my sordid embrace with Sobek. 'Oh, somebody separate them!' Thalia's voice growled, as if she was ordering a bouncer to break up a pair of rivals who were fighting for a sweet girl acrobat. Finally I unclenched my arms just enough to slide off. Chaereas, I think it was, had the courtesy to catch me.

There was still work to do, roping the beast, before we all had to tow his tremendous weight back into his personal compound. At no point was he entirely safe. We were sweating with fear the whole time. We manoeuvred him in, then on a command all sprang back and scarpered, leaving him to break free of his ropes. It took him no time. I squatted on the path, put my head between my knees and tried to recover, as close as I had ever been to total collapse, both physically and mentally. Someone was banging new timbers across the gate. Philadelphion – where had he come from? – set a guard on the crocodile compound.

When I raised my head, somebody – Chaeteas? – gave me a hand up.

People were looking over the fence to see what Sobek would do. He snapped a few times, but then began a slow waddle down the long ramp back to his quarters. 'Good as gold!' some wag remarked. Another man hurled the half-goat down to him. He ignored it.

By this time lights had been brought and those who dared were gingerly approaching the butchered corpse I had found near Roxana. Nobody could bear to touch the dead man. It was a man; you could tell by the legs.

Thalia, in a spangly tunic of such brevity it took bravado for even her to wear it, started eyeing up the Zoo Keeper's mistress as if Roxana was a dog with a killer reputation. Roxana, who by the light of newly-arrived lamps appeared not as youthful as I had first thought, glared straight back as if everything was Thalia's fault. Even though she had ended up scratched, bruised, tattered and terrified, the Zoo Keeper's mistress showed admirable style.

Despite the numerous witnesses, Philadelphion abandoned discretion and had the kindness to turn to his female friend with murmurs of comfort. Obviously concerned, he enveloped Roxana in his arms and took charge of her. I saw Thalia sneer. As he gazed around the scene, I wondered dispassionately just what he made of it.

The commotion had roused the scholars. Camillus Aelianus arrived and pushed through the press of onlookers as if he had official rights. He was coming to me, but as soon as he spotted the body, he veered and knelt alongside. I saw his expression and roused myself to get over there. When I reached him, he looked white.

'Who is it?'

'Heras, Falco.' Aulus was shaking. He must have recognised what remained of the young man's clothes. 'My friend Heras.'

Someone threw a cover over the corpse. Not before time. Aulus stood up. He seemed fine for a moment, then turned aside and violently vomited.

In an ideal world, we would have begun questioning people then and there. That was impossible. I was too exhausted, my assistant was in shock, witnesses were hysterical and crowds were milling everywhere. I wanted to get as far away from the crocodile as possible. I muttered to Philadelphion tersely that I would require to see his mistress and his staff first thing next morning, with no excuses. I exchanged a nod with Thalia. I could trust her to keep a discreet eye on the zoo area; I would speak to her tomorrow before I saw anybody else. I took Aulus home with me. We managed to hitch a ride on a cart; our journey passed in complete silence.

Aulus was devastated. He had seen corpses before, but as far as I knew, never that of a friend. The young man Heras had died terribly; Aulus was envisaging just how bad it must have been. As soon as we went indoors, I sent him to bed with a drink. He remained morose. I was none too chatty myself.

Next day, Helena woke me at dawn. She was gentle but persistent. Although this was what I wanted, it was difficult to rouse myself. My limbs were stiff and I was covered in grazes and bruises, so I ached all over. As she slathered on ointment, Helena knew how to hide her concern, but after nearly losing me she insisted on accompanying me when I went out. We left her brother sleeping. Albia and Cassius had been primed to look after him, once he woke in his own time. 'Let him come to the Museion and help, if that seems to be what he wants.'

'Will that make him feel better?'Albia had a scornful way of speaking sometimes.

'It may help Aulus,' Helena answered. 'Nothing can be done for the dead young man – Marcus Didius understands that. But there are other considerations. We need to find out what happened.'

Albia backed down. She was brusque but practical: 'To know what happened for his family, to prevent similar accidents…'

Answers might help me too.

Helena and I crossed the city back to the Museion as the bakers were riddling out their ovens ready for the first loaves of the day. Sleepy-eyed workers were already walking to their places of business in the Mediterranean way. Women with no weight on them were shouting at slovenly, flabby men, who cursed back grumpily; heavier and older females swept or mopped pavements outside half-open premises. Horses stood between the shafts. Passers-by could already buy pastries. Way across the bay, the Pharos was entirely hidden, sheathed in thick mist. It explained why they needed a lighthouse.

Even at the Museion people stirred. News of last night's tragedy had percolated the dormitories. Some of the dreamers would take a long time to find out what had happened; others were eager to gossip straight away. I urgently needed to start my enquiries, before rumours stuck and became accepted fact.

We found Thalia glumly sipping at a scented concoction in a beaker, flopped in the doorway to her fantastic marquee. Nothing like the ten-man military tents with which I was familiar but closer to a huge bedouin dwelling-place, it was a long, dark red construction, colour-fully swagged and flagged on every seam and guy-rope. The tent alone confirmed how well she was doing financially.

All kinds of water and food containers were cluttered outside. Amongst the clutter, in a large basket beside her lurked Jason, the python; I recognised his tall woven container and could tell from Thalia's awakening grin that she would tease me about him. Jason's idea of fun was to slither up behind me and stare under my tunic. I hated that. Helena quite liked him and was liable to ask to have him let out of the basket.

Folding stools were fetched and we joined Thalia. I ended up next to the snake basket; I could feel Jason thumping against the side, anxious to come and alarm me with practical jokes as usual.

Thalia was completely covered up; she had a warm woollen cloak wrapped around her, keeping her decent from ankle to throat. This strange decorum showed even she thought the recapture of Sobek had been a dangerously close business. 'That was a disaster last night, Falco!' Her voice croaked harshly as her sombre mood returned.

'Are you all right?' Helena asked.

'Women's business.'

Refreshments had been brought for us. I cradled a beaker, in the black mood of a man who had been recently knocked half senseless and who had not recovered his equilibrium. 'I have had more relaxed evenings… What's the word?'

Thalia took her time. Eventually she said, 'I sent some of my people over there this morning – take a look, ask about. The story is, Sobek grew suddenly keen on a day trip to Lake Mareotis. He broke out before his keepers noticed. The young student came across him unexpectedly, then was killed trying to intervene to save the woman. Who knows why she was cavorting there? But all a sad accident.'