Coming out on to the quay again, I felt sick. I had no idea where Fulvius had spent the past quarter of a century. Even if he had been in Illyria that was no proof that he was involved with pirates and kidnappers. But the sea biscuit's sly insinuation had a sure ring. I was related to several entrepreneurs whose business deals were best left veiled. Fabius and Junius were just embarrassing, but their elder brother had a streak of dark intelligence, plus loathing of the social rules; he took a joy in doing people down. I saw it clearly. as the kidnappers" intermediary, Fulvius would fit. The allegation that the Illyrian" was a" scrawny old queen" also rang true. Fulvius had tried to run away to a cult whose goddess, according to myth, was born double-gendered; Cybele's male partner was then created from her excised masculine genitals, only to castrate himself ecstatically… That was a family I did not envy. When they sat around the fire at Saturnalia swapping medical histories, it must be grim. But no hapless nephew had ever had to explain to Cybele, the Great Idaean Mother in her turreted crown, that Attis was not just a eunuch in a starry cap, but lead player in a nasty ransom scam. I was tough. But not so tough that I wanted to be stuck with this. The spectres of my mother and of Great-Auntie Phoebe on the family farm rose up alarmingly. We informers may not be known as scared of our mothers, but we are accustomed to assessing dangers correctly – so of course we are. I walked back inside the lavatory. The other customer came out past me, giving me a funny look. Caninus was now in close conver sation with the young attendant; tipping him, presumably. The youth turned away quickly. The navy man looked up, surprised and wary.
