One of the women shuffled up. She was not Italian. Maybe Swiss. "Natalie, this isn’t San Francisco," she said. "These are Roman sewers, the oldest sewers in the world. All catacombs and buried villas down there, dead temples of the virgins, drowned mosaics, Christian bones..." She blinked, and swayed a little. "Bad lacrimogen can’t make old Roman ghosts any sorrier."