The Lydian Baker (Marcus Corvinus Book 4)

by David Wishart

  I shook Antaeus's hand off. He stepped back and did a good imitation of a piece of decorative furniture.

  'Well, well,' I said.

  24.

  'What are you doing here, Corvinus?' Callippus asked. The guy wasn't too pleased, and it showed.

  'I could ask you the same question, pal,' I said.

  'I'm interviewing Demetriacus, of course. As I told you I would.'

  'Fine.' I kept my voice level. 'Only somehow I got the impression you'd let me know when it happened.'

  'That was my intention, although I don't recall extending a formal invitation.' Now he sounded peeved as hell. 'In any case, there wasn't time.'

  'Fortunately the situation seems to have remedied itself, Commander,' the baldy in the fancy mantle said drily. 'Please sit down, Valerius Corvinus. Antaeus, a chair for our other guest.' I sat. Callippus didn't look at me. 'The fault was partly mine, I'm afraid. Naturally I came straight here as soon as Callippus's messenger arrived. I don't have the privilege of knowing Melanthus of Abdera personally, but I have heard of him, and the Scallop's reputation is very important to me. Accordingly if he has disappeared then I view it as a duty to help the authorities in every way I can.'

  Uh-huh. Quite the little speech. I'd decided the moment I came in that I didn't like Demetriacus. With his round hairless head poking up from the starched edge of the mantle he could've passed for a shaved monkey: a very smart monkey who spoke careful, well-structured Greek. Too careful and well structured for my liking: something about it rang phoney, and I've never trusted guys who balance their clauses.

  'Yeah. Yeah, sure,' I said. 'Very public-spirited of you.'

  'Corvinus, if you insist on being present then I insist on civility!' Callippus snapped. 'This gentleman has left his sickbed to come here!'

  'No, no, that's all right,' Demetriacus said. 'I can understand your friend's suspicions, especially since as you tell me he was attacked himself last night in our side alley. With no long-term ill effects, I hope?' He gave me a tight smile.

  'I'm okay,' I said. 'Only...'

  'Leave it!' Callippus muttered. Jupiter, the guy was annoyed. Seriously annoyed. Still, he was right, and I was here on sufferance. Putting backs up at this juncture wasn't going to get me anywhere.

  Demetriacus had turned to Antaeus. 'Ask the Lady Hermippe to join us, please,' he said. 'And bring wine and a glass of boiled milk.' I must've let my shudder show, because he smiled at me again. 'The Commander wasn't exaggerating, Corvinus. Or only by a little. No wine for me at present, I'm afraid, and an invalid's diet.' Antaeus bowed and left. 'Now. Callippus has told me that Melanthus was here the evening of his disappearance. I can't confirm this personally but Hermippe can no doubt tell you one way or the other. However, he also says that the gentleman left the premises not long after he arrived.'

  'Melanthus left the girl's room, sure,' I said. 'Whether he left the premises is another matter.'

  'True.' The smooth pink face didn't change. 'That's a fair distinction, although again Hermippe should be able to tell us for certain whether or not it's valid in this instance.' He paused. 'Can I assume that you think it is? That Melanthus didn't leave the Scallop early after all?'

  'It's a possibility. Yeah.'

  Callippus stirred. 'Corvinus...'

  'That's all right, Commander.' I still had Demetriacus's full attention. 'Let your friend speak his mind. Yes, again you're quite correct. It is certainly a possibility, in theory at least. And the logical implication underlying it is that you believe the disappearance took place here. That Melanthus had in fact been murdered.'

  Well, that was direct enough. Callippus glared at me, although he didn't speak. 'No, I don't think that,' I said carefully. 'Or rather I don't think the guy's dead. I think he disappeared voluntarily.'

  Demetriacus's eyes widened. 'Really? Why on earth should he want to do that?'

  The hell with this. If he could be direct then so could I, and I was tired of fencing anyway.

  'Because the guy's a crook,' I said. 'He was after a gold statue that my stepfather was trying to buy from a man called Argaius. He'd arranged Argaius's murder and he knew I suspected him of it. And I think as a consequence he's hiding out somewhere in this building.'

  I'd been expecting Callippus to butt in. Now he did.

  'Corvinus, that's enough! More than enough!' He turned to Demetriacus. 'Before we go any further, sir, can I say that this is not the official view or anything near it. Melanthus is–'

  The door opened, and Antaeus reappeared with Hermippe in tow. She stopped and stared at me.

  'Valerius Corvinus?' she said. 'I thought you were with Cleo.'

  'Uh...yeah.' I glanced at Callippus. His lips were set tight, and he looked like someone had just inserted a very long poker up his rectum. 'I just...ah...slipped downstairs for a moment.'

  'Sit down, Hermippe.' Demetriacus indicated the other guest chair. 'Valerius Corvinus is a friend of the Lord Callippus here. The City Watch commander. He's asking about Melanthus of Abdera who is, I think, a client of ours?'

  His voice held a question. Hermippe paused before answering.

  'Yes, sir,' she said at last. 'A regular client of several years' standing.'

  'I'll fetch the wine and milk now, sir.' Antaeus made a move towards the door.

  'Wait a moment. Antaeus.' Demetriacus held up a hand. 'Perhaps you can help us here yourself. The Lord Corvinus has suggested that Melanthus may not have left the house that evening. He did, didn't he?'

  Antaeus frowned and looked at Hermippe.

  'Of course he did,' she said. 'Shortly after sunset. Antaeus was otherwise engaged, but I saw him leave personally.'

  'You're certain?'

  Her back straightened. 'Absolutely certain, sir.'

  'Thank you.' Demetriacus turned back to Callippus. 'There's your answer, Commander. Naturally if you don't believe us you're quite at liberty to search. We have no clients at the moment who might find that inconvenient. Or do we, Hermippe?'

  'Only Valerius Corvinus himself.' Her voice was dry. 'And I take it he would have no objection.' Callippus didn't look at me, but his lips set even tighter. Jupiter! How the guy could be a Watch commander and still subscribe to the moral code of a sixty-year-old Vestal beat me.

  'Fine.' Demetriacus was smiling. 'Then please feel free to look round, gentlemen, as much as you wish.'

  'Great, that's–' I began.

  'A search won't be necessary, sir.' Callippus stood up. 'And I don't think we need trouble you any further. My thanks for your help. And my apologies for the inconvenience. Come on, Corvinus.' He paused. 'Unless you have other commitments, of course.'

  Snide bastard. I didn't move. 'There is one thing, Demetriacus,' I said. 'You mind if I have a look at your cellar before we go?'

  Demetriacus frowned. 'The cellar? I don't understand.'

  'Put it down to Roman idiosyncracy. I have this thing about cellars.' Callippus had his mouth open to object but I talked through him. 'It won't take a minute.'

  'Take as long as you please. Antaeus?'

  The big guy moved forward. 'This way, Valerius Corvinus.'

  I'd heard more cheerful invitations, but I'd got what I wanted. 'You coming, Callippus?' I said.

  'No.' He was looking grim. 'I think you can make a fool of yourself perfectly well without my help. You've done a fine job of it so far, anyway.'

  And screw you, too, pal, I thought. Well, this looked like the end of a beautiful friendship, but it was the only chance I was going to get and if I was right it would be a clincher. 'Okay. I'll see you outside.'

  Callippus grunted. I got up, nodded to Demetriacus, and followed the now-not-so-jolly giant across the hall and down the corridor next to the Achilles painting.

  Everything fitted: the distance, the sound of our footsteps. Everything. Sure enough, when we got to the kitchen there was the door. This time it was open.

  'Would you care to go down, sir?' Antaeus said. There was an edge to his voice that I didn
't like more than half. No, I didn't want to go down, not a second time, not with the Last of the Titans here waiting up above ready to tie me into a neat bow when I came back up, but I needed confirmation. Then it would be a case of fighting my way to Callippus if necessary, showing him that I had the facts to back the theory, and nailing Demetriacus's lying hide to his fancy front door. That I'd enjoy.

  'Sure,' I said, surreptitiously checking that my knife was where it should be in its wrist sheath. 'You got a lamp? Or should I just break my neck and save you the trouble?'

  He didn't say anything. Crossing to a cupboard in the corner of the kitchen, he took down a pottery oil lamp and lit it with a spill from the charcoal stove. I took the lamp and went down the stone steps.

  The cellar was full of wine jars. Very full. If it was a cosmetic job, whoever had done it had had divine help. He'd even managed a few convincing spider webs and a layer of dirt, dust and grime. Not to mention a dead mouse or two.

  Shit.

  'Have you seen enough, sir?' Antaeus said when I came back up. Polite, but sarky as hell underneath. I handed him the lamp without a word and went outside to face Callippus.

  Okay. So I was wrong. Wherever I'd had my talk with Prince Charming, it hadn't been the Scallop. Sure, Melanthus could still be hiding out there and Demetriacus could've been bluffing from start to finish: Hermippe had been lying when she said he'd left, I was certain of that; you get the feel for lies when you've heard them often enough. The question was why? Her boss had wanted her to bail him out, sure he had, I'd noticed the loaded question, and she'd done it nobly. Out of loyalty, or something else? Or was I just fantasising again, Demetriacus was the upstanding public- spirited citizen he pretended to be and the Scallop was the only honest cathouse between here and the Pillars of Hercules?

  Callippus had gone, but Dida was there waiting. He was grinning from ear to ear.

  'Your friend the Watch Commander left a message for you, lord,' he said. 'He suggests that if you have any other half-baked theories you drop them down a very deep hole. He also said that he'll be grateful if you stay out of his hair completely for the next decade or so. Preferably in Corinth.'

  'Uh, right. Right, got it. Message delivered.' Gods!

  'That's a paraphrase. His actual words weren't so polite.'

  That I'd believe. 'Just take me home, Dida, okay?'

  I got into the coach, feeling drained. Well, you win some, you lose some, and this wasn't even close to a draw. It had been worth a try, though, and I'd still bet a hatful of rubies to a smoked sardine that Melanthus was holed up inside somewhere. Maybe behind one of the doors I hadn't opened, or in a room the other side of the courtyard. Or maybe there was another cellar that the big guy hadn't shown me. The problem now was I was stymied. I doubted that Demetriacus would let me over the threshold now legitimately, and with Antaeus straining at the leash to see how far I'd bounce if he got to throw me out short of a full frontal attack with a cohort of Praetorians at my back I didn't have a hope in hell of getting in any other way. Checkmate. For now, at least.

  So. I had to approach the problem from another angle. There were two possibilities, and both of them were total bummers. One was to track down Prince Charming and/or the Ethiopian, the other was to concentrate on the statue itself. I hadn't had much luck so far with the first, and from Callippus's message I got the distinct impression that he wouldn't bust a gut to help me in future. So, bummer or not, it had to be the second.

  Harpalus might not have been involved with moving the Baker, but someone must have been. Tomorrow I'd go back down to the Piraeus and have a word with the owner of the Zea cookshop. He'd given me Smaragdus's name, maybe he could give me another if I asked nicely. Not that I was looking forward to asking: the guy hadn't exactly fallen over himself to be helpful last time around, and I doubted if he'd sweetened any. Also, his wine stank.

  I looked out of the carriage window. We were coming up to the major intersection beyond the Rock, heading for the Hippades Gate. There was a cluster of shops there where I could pick up a conscience present for Perilla.

  'Hey, Dida!' I shouted.

  'Yeah?'

  'Pull in here. I'll walk the rest.'

  The carriage stopped and I got out. A thought struck me. 'By the way,' I said. 'That bastard who snatched me. The Paphian. You think you can find him?' Public coach drivers go everywhere. And their grapevine may not be as hot as the slaves' version, but they've got contacts.

  'I can try, lord. I'll spread the word around, anyway.'

  'You do that. The Ethiopian as well. The guy in the loud tunic. Top rates.'

  'Understood.' A grin. 'I'll be in touch. If and when.'

  Well, it was a long shot, but it was as good as I could manage at present. I watched the coach head back towards Piraeus Gate.

  There was a flower seller on the corner, but I gave him a miss: flowers always made Perilla suspicious. I grinned to myself. Hell’s teeth! An innocent half hour in the Scallop and I was acting like any other tomcatting husband in the City! In the end, I went into a scent shop and chose a small bottle of top-of-the-range perfume that cost an arm and a leg. I asked the shopkeeper if he had any qef, but he'd never heard of the stuff. Shame.

  I looked around on the off chance, but there was no sign of the Ethiopian. That was one guy I wanted a word with.

  Okay, call it a day. And not one of my best, either. I tucked the perfume bottle into a fold of my mantle and went home.

  25.

  When I walked into the cookshop the owner was arranging rissoles on a platter. The place was empty.

  'Hey, friend,' I said. 'Remember me?'

  'Sure.' He straightened and scowled. 'The wine expert.'

  'Don't let it rankle, pal.' There was a stool beside the counter. I sat on it. 'We can't all be born with palates.'

  He was looking at my bruised face. 'You have an argument with someone?'

  'Just a minor disagreement.'

  'Smaragdus?' His mouth split into a grin. On that mug it was as out of place as a gorilla in a barbershop. 'Never knew the bastard had it in him.'

  'Not with Smaragdus.'

  'Pity.' He set the last rissole on top of the pile. A circling fly moved in for the kill. 'So. What'll it be?'

  I took out my purse slowly. 'I was hoping you could help me a bit more over names. What's yours, by the way, while we're on the subject?'

  'Euphrastus.' Jupiter! His parents must've had some sense of humour! 'And this is a cookshop, friend. You sit down, you eat. I've got a living to make.'

  'Uh-huh.' I cast an eye over the contents of the counter. What I could see of them under the flies and the layer of grease. 'You have anything there that didn't go woof once and wag its tail?'

  'Not a lot.' Gods! Well, I'd asked and he'd told me. 'How about beans?'

  'Beans are fine.'

  He lifted the lid of a casserole on the stove, ladelled a grey mess onto a plate and added a chunk of bread and a spoon. 'Wine?'

  'No wine. Definitely no wine.'

  'Suit yourself.' He put the plate in front of me and licked sauce off his thumb. 'Enjoy.'

  Not the word I would've used. I tasted the glop and pushed it away. If Pythagoras was right the souls that'd gone into the pot would've done better to have stayed in the queue. 'Okay,’ I said. ‘Now the information.'

  'About Argaius? You're wasting your time. There's nothing more I can tell you. The guy's dead and his wife's left town.' He leered. 'Shame. That's one widow I wouldn't mind comforting.'

  'Not about Argaius. About Smaragdus.'

  'You didn't find him at Mamma Glypho's?'

  'He's moved.' If the guy hadn't heard that Smaragdus was dead I wasn't going to tell him. He might get jittery. Certainly the price would go up. 'His friend Harpalus is gone too.'

  ‘That so?' Euphrastus indicated the plate between us. 'You going to eat that, by the way, or let it go to waste?'

  'I'll pay for it, if that's what you mean. Otherwise I'll pass.'

  'Fi
ne. I was just going to eat myself anyway.' He dunked the bread in the bean mash and took a soggy bite. My stomach turned. 'So Glypho finally threw the bugger out, right? I'm not surprised. A guy like that, he's bad for trade.'

  I tried not to watch as he shovelled down the beans like there was no tomorrow. Well, at least I couldn't say he didn't have the courage of his own culinary convictions.

  'Did Smaragdus have any other business associates besides Argaius?'

  'Sure.' He licked a stray scrap of sauce from the spoon handle. 'What else would you expect? Doing deals with people was his job.'

  'Can you give me names?'

  'Go down to the harbour. Anyone you see there, put him on the list. Smaragdus has dealings with half the Piraeus.'

  That was discouraging, but I hadn't come all this way just to give up. 'Regulars, Euphrastus. We're talking regulars.'

  He reached a leisurely finger to the back of his mouth, pulled out a lump of grit the size of a cobble, inspected it and flicked it to one side. It landed in the tray of rissoles. 'Regulars I wouldn't know. And unlike some other nosey bastards I don't care.'

  Well, it'd been worth a try. I could always drop by the harbour like he suggested and ask around. Meanwhile there was another tack.

  'Okay. So what about the other end? People who worked for him? If Smaragdus had a job that involved rough work, heavy lifting, say, who would he go to?'

  'He'd hire any help he needed at the Emporium, same as anyone else. There's always plenty of cheap muscle around on the quayside. Or he'd just use Tiny.'

  'Tiny?'

  'Big guy.' Euphrastus tapped his temple. 'Soft in the head. You met him already. He was in last time you were here with that dog of his.'

  Shit, yes, I remembered Tiny! I might be on to something here. 'You happen to know where I can find him?'