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week. I wager you didn’t know that! That’s how informed I am. The owner sold them, you see. Race horses are worth more to butchers than bettors these days.”
    Anatolius suddenly felt queasy. He couldn’t help wondering whether Francio, the universal gourmet, might not have taken the opportunity to sample the flesh of a Hippodrome champion.
    â€œMore than one person has remarked to me that fewer people seem to be dying,” he replied. “The emperor and empress have returned to the palace, as you know well enough. Would they put themselves in danger if it were not true?”
    â€œFewer people are dying because there’s hardly anyone left to die,” Felix pointed out.
    It was possibly true, Anatolius thought uneasily. The plague seemed determined to linger until Constantinople was deserted.
    â€œFelix, I know there is no official investigation, but have you found anything out about the murder of Senator Symacchus? Anything to free John of suspicion?”
    Felix tugged at his beard. “No. Not a thing. What could there be? John was there when we arrived. I saw him myself. He was standing over the body.”
    â€œBut he denied killing the senator.”
    â€œHe didn’t deny it when we arrived at the Hippodrome. Took one look at us and ran. It’s not like John at all. What in Mithra’s name does it all mean? That’s what I want to know. It’s a puzzle. A puzzling puzzle.”
    Felix attempted to pick up his partly filled cup and knocked it over. The proprietor lumbered over with a rag almost before the rosy stream hit the straw on the floor. Anatolius’ glare forced him away again.
    â€œAnd why did you happen to be at the Hippodrome with so many men at that specific time, Felix?”
    â€œI’ve explained already.”
    â€œYou haven’t.”
    â€œI haven’t?” Felix frowned. He looked genuinely perplexed. “But why was that?”
    â€œFelix, I can’t tell you why you didn’t tell me. Just tell me now, would you? Why were you there?”
    â€œA fellow came and told me,” Felix explained. “Said a senator was being murdered in the Hippodrome.”
    â€œA fellow?”
    â€œA man. A stranger. Came into my office. And he was right. I raced over with my men, but Symacchus was already dead.”
    â€œWasn’t that a bit unusual?”
    â€œI wouldn’t say so. Once the cord was around his neck he didn’t have a chance.”
    â€œI meant wasn’t it unusual for someone to go to your office to report an impending murder? Most people would rush to the nearest barracks, don’t you think? Or stop a guard on the street?”
    â€œPerhaps he worked at the palace and naturally thought of the excubitors first?”
    Anatolius nodded eagerly. “Good! Now we’re on the track of something useful. What makes you say that? Think? Was it the way he dressed? Was the face familiar because you’d passed by him in a hallway or seen him on the palace grounds?”
    Felix shook his big head like a petulant child. “I can’t say how he was dressed. What do you take me for, one of Theodora’s ladies-in-waiting? An expert on sartorial elegance? Yet sometimes I wonder at that, considering the type of tasks Justinian orders me to carry out.”
    Anatolius stood. It was obvious he wouldn’t get anything useful out of Felix in his current state. His immediate problem now was seeing the captain home in one piece. “Come on, Felix.”
    The dim room darkened further. He noticed the proprietor had blocked the doorway with his considerable girth. He flipped him a coin and the man moved aside.
    Felix remained seated. “You go ahead. I need another cup of wine. Or two. Or even more.”
    Anatolius sighed. Trying to shift the big excubitor from his chair would be like trying to move a boulder with a twig.
    â€œHere’s something you’ll like, Felix,” he said