"There are rules for private informers accepting a new case. Never take on clients who cannot pay you. Never do favours for friends. Don't work with relatives. If, like me, you are a woman, keep clear of men you find attractive. "Will I never learn?" In Ancient Rome, the number of slaves was far greater than that of free citizens. As a result, often the people Romans feared most were the "enemies at home," the slaves under their own roofs. Because of this, Roman law decreed that if the head of a household was murdered at home, and the culprit wasn't quickly discovered, his slaves―all of them, guilty or not―were presumed responsible and were put to death. Without exception. When a couple is found dead in their own bedroom and their house burglarized, some of their household slaves know what is about to happen to them. They flee to the Temple of Ceres, which by tradition is respected as a haven for refugees. This is where Flavia Albia comes in. The authorities, under pressure from all sides, need a solution. Albia, a private informer just like her father, Marcus Didius Falco, is asked to solve the murders, in this mystery from Lindsey Davis. “Davis combines excellent research, expansive knowledge, and vivid writing to immerse readers in ancient Rome. The people and the places of the city seem both authentic and familiar...a great read!” ― Library Journal on The Ides of April “The Flavia Albia series promises to be every bit as exciting and enduring as the Falco mysteries.” ― Booklist (starred review) “Davis delights. . .with her trademark blend of quirky characters and rich period detail. Readers can anticipate Flavia Albia to be a compelling presence for years to come.” ― Booklist (starred review) on Ides of April “Flavia proves a worthy successor to her wily father and, as always, under all the excitement runs the solidity of Davis's historical knowledge” ― The Independent (UK) on The Ides of April “Flavia Albia makes her debut courtesy of the author of the long-running Marcus Didius Falco series ( Nemesis , 2010, etc.). This installment includes the same helpful map of the city and cast of characters and a feistier style…Flavia demonstrates appealing wit and grit.” ― Kirkus Reviews on The Ides of April “Entertaining … taut and deftly woven. Albia is a witty and attractive addition to the roster of his family and as ever with a Davis novel―the narration is done so delightfully that the final impression is curiously warm and uplifting.” ― The Guardian (London) on The Ides of April “Davis ingeniously breathes life into her Ancient Rome series…Provides hope that Flavia could have as long a literary run as Marcus” ― Publishers Weekly on The Ides of April “Davis's sequel to 2013's The Ides of April boasts a strong female lead, [and]… vividly portrays the setting, ‘a poisoned city, where a paranoid emperor had caused often-lethal mistrust,'” ― Publishers Weekly on Enemies at Home Lindsey Davis was born and raised in Birmingham, England. After taking an English degree at Oxford and working for the civil service for thirteen years, she “ran away to be a writer.” Her internationally bestselling novels featuring ancient Roman detective Marcus Didius Falco include Venus in Copper , The Iron Hand of Mars , Nemesis and Alexandria . She is also the author of Rebels and Traitors , set during the English Civil War. Davis is the recipient of the Crime Writers’ Association Cartier Diamond Dagger Award, the highest accolade for crime writers, as well as the Ellis Peters Historical Dagger Award and the Authors' Club Best First Novel award. 1 Even before I started, I knew I should say no. There are rules for private informers accepting a new case. Never take on clients who cannot pay you. Never do favors for friends. Don’t work with relatives. Think carefully about legal work. If, like me, you are a woman, keep clear of men you find attractive. The Aviola inquiry broke every one of those rules, not least because the clients had no money, yet I took it on. Will I never learn? * * * One warm, starry June night in the city of Rome, burglars invaded a ground-floor apartment on the Esquiline Hill. A large quantity of fine domestic silverware was taken, which people assumed was the primary target. The middle-aged couple who rented the fashionable suite had married only recently, which made what happened to them more poignant. After the robbers left, their bodies were found on the marital bed, amid signs of violent struggle. Both had been strangled. The dead couple were wealthy enough to merit an investigation, a privilege that was generally thought too good for the poor, though it was normally available to victims who had left behind influential friends, as was the case here. Inquiries were first assigned to a vigiles officer, Titianus of the Second Cohort. In fairness, Titianus was no more inept than most vigiles. He knew that two plus two made four—unless he happened to be preoccupied with watching a