The Lydian Baker (Marcus Corvinus Book 4)

by David Wishart

  'No.' Callippus was frowning. 'No, you didn't.'

  'My tame coachman pal Dida recognised the accent. And Demetriacus is from Paphos too. Cotile told me last night.'

  'That I did know, and I take the point. Most definitely I do.' He steepled his fingers. 'Go on, please.'

  'Okay. So much for the original theory. Now we come to the modification. I thought Melanthus was still in on the scam and was hiding out in the Scallop. Obviously I was wrong, but not by much. Let's say he was a more moral character than I gave him credit for. He'd genuinely expected Demetriacus to do an honest deal with Argaius, and when the guy was murdered he put two and two together. He went to the Scallop and faced Demetriacus out, maybe even threatened to denounce him to the authorities.'

  'And Demetriacus had him killed.' Callippus nodded. 'It makes sense. Especially since this Melanthus of Abdera is much closer to the man I knew, by repute at least, than the one in your last version. He was an enthusiast, certainly, but he was most definitely not a murderer. Nor would he condone murder.'

  'Yeah. That's what Alciphron told me.'

  'Demetriacus, now...well, I'm afraid I wasn't strictly honest with you over Demetriacus.'

  My pulse quickened. 'Is that so?'

  'Don't mistake me, I told you no lies. He's done nothing illegal, or nothing that I'm aware of, at least, and as far as the Watch is concerned he's a respectable businessman. But certain friends of mine – friends in business themselves – have mentioned him once or twice. Off the record, of course.' I nodded. These 'off the record' confidences were the reason why someone like Callippus was Watch Commander. He moved in the right circles to pick up inside information that otherwise would never be made public. 'Oddly enough, "cutting corners" is a phrase which crops up rather frequently in these conversations. It explains his success, of course. And Demetriacus is very successful.'

  'Yeah. Yeah, I'd believe that,' I said. 'So the guy's a grey area. Respectable enough on the surface, but not averse to the occasional bit of sharp practice within the law.'

  'Exactly.' Callippus sat back. 'Your "within the law" being the operative – and cautionary – phrase. So. Judgment suspended. We wait for Critias. And if he finds your deed then I talk to our friend Demetriacus again.' He cleared his throat. 'Meanwhile, perhaps you'd care to tell me about Cleo.'

  'Who?'

  'Cleo. The girl you left to join our last conversation.'

  'Uh...yeah.' I hesitated. 'What about her?'

  'Oh, come now, Corvinus! Even we soundly-married men can do with a little light relief on occasion.'

  Priapus on stilts! I'd never have believed it, but there you were: seemingly Aristoboulus wasn't the only guy who had dreams of kicking over the traces. Even Callippus had his human side after all.

  Mind you, I'd met his wife.

  29.

  Critias came back with the news that the deed was there, and I breathed again: sure, I hadn't doubted Cotile for a second, but there was just the chance that, if he and Demetriacus had set the Scallop up together,Melanthus had kept the ownership in his own name. So now I had my first bit of hard evidence linking the two.

  'So we make another appointment?' I said to Callippus.

  'No.'

  'What?' I didn't believe this. 'Look, pal..!'

  'No appointment.' He had a determined look on his face that I hadn't seen before. 'This time we go straight round to the house. I don't like being lied to. And the man has questions to answer.'

  'Hey! Great!' I stood up.

  'Wait a moment, Corvinus. My questions, not yours. Remember that. I have your word.'

  'Sure.' It would be difficult, but if that was the deal I could hack it. 'I've got Lysias outside. I'll give you a lift.'

  'That won't be necessary. This is an official investigation and we'll take an official carriage.'

  Talk about pernickety. Still, if the niceties of protocol were all that important to him it was fine with me. I shrugged.

  He didn't speak on the way, and I kept my mouth shut. Good practice. Besides, I wanted to keep him sweet. In his present mood Callippus was touchy as a sackful of vipers.

  Demetriacus had a modest little mansion outside the Diochares Gate, backing onto Theophrastus Gardens. Successful was right: he'd even got the EridanusRiver flowing through his grounds. A slave led us through the portico to the garden beyond. I took a quick look round and nodded to myself. It fitted: the place was chock-full of statues and ornamental urns big enough to take an oak tree. There was money here by the barrowload, sure, but unlike at the Scallop it didn't whisper, it shouted. Demetriacus had chosen this particular decor himself, without Melanthus's help, and it showed.

  He was in a lounger, reading. Serious stuff, I noticed from the label on the roll: Apollonius of Perga's Conics. Poetry I can hack, but mathematics is the pits. He set the book aside. For a split second, when he saw us, the guy looked fazed, but he covered it well.

  'Commander. Valerius Corvinus. Delighted to see you,' he said. 'Alcis, some wine for our guests.'

  The slave bowed and left. I indicated the cup of milk on the table beside him. 'Still having problems, right?'

  Callippus shot me a glance. Yeah, well, it had slipped out. Covertly, I held out my hand, palm down, in apology, and he nodded.

  'Still having problems, Corvinus.' Demetriacus smiled. He was wearing a plain tunic this morning, but he still looked like a shaved monkey. 'Never be an invalid, young man. It's the most boring thing in life.'

  'I'm sorry to disturb you again, sir,' Callippus said. 'Especially since I assured you there would be no more questions. However, there have been fresh developments.'

  'Really?' Demetriacus indicated the two chairs opposite. 'Whatever the reason, you're most welcome. Have a seat, please.'

  We sat down. 'First of all,' Callippus said, 'we've found Melanthus of Abdera's body.'

  If he'd expected to catch the guy out – and I was sure he had – then it didn't work. Demetriacus's face didn't change.

  'But that's dreadful,' he said carefully.

  'Yes. My colleagues discovered it yesterday evening, on the Hill of the Nymphs. His throat had been cut.'

  'Ah.' Demetriacus picked up the cup and took a sip of milk. 'Robbers, I suppose? The Hill of the Nymphs is quite a wild region.'

  'Not robbers, sir. At least, we don't think so.' Callippus's eyes went towards me. 'Melanthus was killed elsewhere and his body hidden under some bushes. It was only found by accident.'

  'I see.' Demetriacus set the cup down. 'And what does this have to do with me?'

  'I wondered if perhaps you'd care to change your statement.' Callippus's voice was neutral. 'About not knowing the deceased. Truth's always helpful, sir, and every piece of information in an enquiry such as this is important.'

  'You're accusing me of killing the man?' That came sharp: milk-drinker the guy might be, but underneath he was hard as an Ostian bruiser.

  Callippus blinked: like most Athenians he wasn't used to such straight talking. 'No. Of course not.'

  'Then why come here?'

  'I learned today' – Callippus was still being ponderously official –'that you purchased your property near Ptolemy's Gymnasium, now called Aphrodite's Scallop, from Melanthus of Abdera. The Records Office have confirmed this.'

  'I see.' The cold eyes rested on me. 'And who would your informant be, may I ask?'

  I stared back. Callippus's own eyes didn't move. 'That I'm not at liberty to say, sir, and it's not important. However, the fact of the transaction itself is beyond dispute.'

  The slave came back with the wine. Demetriacus waited until he had poured and left. He was still looking at me even when he talked to Callippus. 'Very well. Yes, I knew Melanthus, and yes, he sold me the Scallop.'

  'And you have been close friends ever since?'

  He paused. 'Yes.'

  'Would you mind explaining why you claimed at our last talk that you'd never met the man?'

  Demetriacus sighed. 'Watch Commander, I have spent my whol
e life avoiding irrelevant complications. If I had told you I knew Melanthus –that he was a friend, indeed – I would have been subjected to precisely the pointless interrogation I'm facing now. I may not look it, but I am an extremely busy man, and I have too much on my mind at any one time to bother with trifles.'

  'Trifles like murder?'

  'Melanthus of Abdera was a friend and an entertaining companion, but he was...peripheral.' He frowned. 'If I may use the word of such a first-rate scholar. I'm sorry he's dead, but since I have no idea whatsoever of how he came to be so I feel no pangs of conscience at having lied to you about our relationship.'

  'So he didn't visit you in your office at the Scallop the night he died?'

  Demetriacus looked at him sharply. 'Who told you that?'

  'Did he?'

  'Watch Commander, I'm sorry, but I think you had better go. I have a very important business meeting this morning, and I need to relax.'

  'You decline to answer?'

  'The question has no meaning for me.'

  'Very well, sir.' Callippus stood up. I followed him. 'One last thing. I was wondering if you knew a compatriot of yours from Paphos.' He repeated the description of Prince Charming that I'd given him.

  Demetriacus pulled himself to his feet. His face was still impassive, but his eyes were narrow slits.

  'Alcis!'

  The slave came running.

  'These gentlemen are just leaving.' He gave me a poisonous look. 'See them to the gate, please.'

  Callippus was hard-faced as we got back into the carriage. 'I enjoyed that,' he said.

  'Yeah. I could see.'

  'My congratulations, by the way. You're a man of your word.'

  'It was no sweat. You were doing okay without me, pal.'

  The coachman started up, and we rattled along the road to the Diochares Gate. 'Can I drop you?' Callippus said. 'We can cut across to Lyceum Road once we're inside the city boundaries.'

  'No, it's okay. Perilla wants some things in town, and Lysias will be waiting. Also, I'd like to talk.'

  'Yes. So I imagine.' Even so he was quiet for a good two minutes. Then he said: 'Demetriacus knows your Prince Charming.'

  'Yeah.' I'd seen the flash myself, when Callippus had asked his question. 'He didn't like the suggestion he'd talked to Melanthus that night, either.'

  'No.' A pause. 'You think he's guilty? That he killed him?'

  'Sure. Or had it done, rather. Don't you?'

  Callippus nodded slowly. 'There's steel there, under the surface. Not too far under, either. And I wouldn't like to cross him.' He glanced at me. 'Like he thinks you've done.'

  'You noticed that?'

  'I noticed. And I think that, in the immediate future, you should be very careful. Very careful indeed.'

  A cold finger touched my spine. Yeah. I'd go along with that. And I'd already met the guy's hit man. Next time it might be a different story. 'So what do we do?'

  'Zeus alone knows.' Callippus sighed. 'We've got no proof, and we're not likely to get any. Demetriacus knows that. Dig, I suppose, and see what comes up. But I'm not hopeful.'

  Right. That was the problem. Demetriacus was our villain, sure he was: pinning it on the guy was another matter. 'Unless I can find Prince Charming,' I said.

  'If the man's in the City or the Piraeus he's keeping his head well down.'

  'Yeah. But sooner or later the bastard's got to come up for air.'

  Callippus looked at me. 'Maybe so,' he said. 'But if he does then my advice to you is to watch your back.'

  I nodded. I meant to, very carefully indeed. Whatever else we'd achieved today, I knew I'd just made myself an enemy.

  30.

  I did Perilla's shopping – a peace offering for the outraged Euelpida and a bag of raisins for Nestor – and then went round to the Eleusinion where I'd arranged for Lysias to pick me up. He was there already, chewing on a plaited bread ring bought from one of the hucksters on the steps. I gave the guy his orders, climbed into the carriage and settled against the cushions to think while we rattled on our merry homeward way.

  Okay. So how far had our little tête-à -tête with Demetriacus actually taken us? We knew that Demetriacus was 'Eutyches', or the surviving half of him, anyway. On the other hand, like Callippus had said, just knowing didn't help us much without proof, and getting that was going to be a real pain in the rectum because the guy was smart. Too smart to make any sudden panicky moves, certainly, and now he knew we knew his connection with Prince Charming he'd be careful to keep him under close wraps as well. Maybe even get him out of Athens, if he hadn't done that already...

  I ran that last bit past myself again. No, Demetriacus wouldn't send Prince Charming away. Nothing to do with using him to settle scores with me; on sober reflection I reckoned that after our visit I was safer from PC's attentions than I had been for quite some while, because if Corvinus were found face up in the morning dew at this stage of the game then Callippus would come down on his boss like a ton of marble slabs. Which would be the end of Demetriacus. I hadn't been kidding when I'd talked in the cellar about crucifixion. That's one thing about the Roman governing classes; when one of their own gets chopped, even a neverwuzzer like me, they don't stop to take prisoners.

  So Prince Charming was still around somewhere, and he'd stay that way until Demetriacus had the Baker. Forget the theory that he wanted it to buy entrance into the Athens top Five Hundred; that was impractical now even if he'd ever considered it. I doubted if he had, seriously, although he might well have used it as a ploy to hook Melanthus: like Callippus had said, he was a businessman first and last, and there were plenty of rich punters in Asia who'd be glad to give it a place in one of their fancy dining rooms with no questions asked. Selling it wouldn't be a problem. The tricky part, from his point of view, was finding it; and to do that he'd have to go through Tiny.

  Tiny was the key. If Demetriacus didn't know about him already then we might just win out after all. If he did, then...

  That was what was worrying me. This thing had developed into a race in the dark. I'd just have to keep going and hope I was still ahead.

  Perilla was upstairs in her own study, where she goes sometimes when she's got serious reading or writing to do and doesn't want to waste part of her brain fielding half-assed comments from me. Sure enough, when I went in she had a book-roll in her hand that you could've used to stun a rhino.

  'Oh, you're back.' She kissed me. 'Did you get Euelpida's present?'

  'Yeah.' I handed her the ivory plaque I'd picked up in one of the specialist shops on the Panathenaia. 'Look and marvel.'

  She looked, and giggled. 'Marcus, I can't give her this! She'd never forgive me!'

  'What's wrong with it? I thought Artemis fleeing from Alphaeus was pretty apt.'

  'Yes, but...'

  'You should've seen some of the others. At least the guy's in proportion.'

  That finally got me a grin. 'Corvinus, you're hopeless! I should have gone myself.'

  'Too late now.' I brought out the bag of raisins. 'These are for Nestor. If we're very lucky the bastard'll choke on the pips.'

  Perilla marked her place in the roll with a slip of paper and set it aside. 'How did your interview with Callippus go? Is he still angry?'

  'No. He was okay. Latterly, anyway.' I hesitated. 'And he's found Melanthus. The guy's been dead for days.'

  'Oh.' Perilla went very still. 'Oh, dear.'

  'Yeah. But at least it clears the ground, and we've got our villain for sure this time.' I told her about the interview with Demetriacus. 'Now all we need is proof.'

  'Callippus is reopening the case?'

  'He's got no choice.' I sat down on the edge of her couch. 'He'll have backing, too, because Melanthus had important friends. And with luck Demetriacus will slip up somewhere.'

  'You think that's possible?'

  'Anything's possible.' I told her my latest theory. 'Now Callippus believes he's guilty he won't let go.'

  'But, Marcus –’


  There was a knock on the door. I turned round. 'Yeah?'

  'I'm sorry, sir.' Bathyllus's voice. 'A visitor.'

  'Come in, little guy. We're decent. What visitor?'

  Bathyllus stuck his head round the door. 'He's waiting in the street, sir. With his carriage.'

  'His carriage?'

  'It's that public coach driver, sir.' Bathyllus sniffed. 'He says he has news for you. Something about finding a man you're looking for.'

  Shit! Dida had found Prince Charming! I looked at Perilla. She'd gone very pale.

  'Marcus, be careful.' She touched my arm. 'Please.'

  'Yeah. Yeah, I'll be careful.' I kissed her. 'Maybe things are breaking after all. I'll see you later, lady.'

  Dida was grinning.

  'Your slave tell you?' he said. 'We've got him, lord.'

  'Great! Good work!'

  'One of the lads had a fare to Colonus and he spotted him going into a house near the Shrine of Hera. I can take you there now, if you want.'

  'Sure.' I was getting in to the carriage when a thought struck me. 'Hold on. I'll be back in a moment.'

  Bathyllus was hovering in the hall, making sure I didn't get mugged by the working classes for my sandals. 'Hey, little guy,' I said. 'These two bruisers we use for lugging oil jars. They around?'

  'Yes, sir. They'll be in the kitchen, I expect.'

  'Dust them down and bring them outside. And roust out a couple of decent clubs.'

  'Clubs, sir?' His eyebrows went up to where his hairline would've been, if he'd had one.

  'Clubs.' If I was going to pay a visit to Prince Charming I wanted some insurance, and these two were the best policy I could get. 'Preferably with nails in.'

  A sniff. 'Clubs with nails in, sir. Certainly, sir. I'll search the broom closets.'

  Supercilious bastard. I went back out to Dida.

  'Slight delay,' I said. 'We're taking on passengers. Now where did you say our Paphian pal was stashed?'

  Dida frowned. 'It's not him, lord. It's the other.'

  'The other?' For a moment, I was fazed. Then I remembered. Of course: I'd asked Dida to look out for two men. 'You mean the Ethiopian?'