by Paul Davis
Kaires wondered whether to voice his suspicions and decided it would serve no purpose to keep them to himself. It would be absurd to think that Strabo was in any way involved. Even so, he hardly knew him, so he should still be careful. Strabo was probably fishing for answers out of curiosity, but it was just possible he wanted to see how much Kaires knew.
‘I don’t think he stole the ring himself,’ Kaires said. ‘I think he was trying a little blackmail.’
Gallus and Strabo both looked surprised. Kaires told them about Mantios’s nocturnal activities, and the conclusions he had drawn.
‘Serves him right, then. What a fool. He obviously had no idea of the importance of what he’d seen. Look, Kaires, just make sure you sort things out before we reach the pyramids. I want to know who is responsible for these deaths so I can throw them from the top of one of them.’ Gallus narrowed his eyes. ‘And I want to know all about this get-rich-quick scheme of Zeno's. Where was all the money going to come from?’ This was something the Prefect obviously did not want to miss out on.
On that note Kaires took his leave. As he went downstairs, he saw Iola coming from the dining room. Her eyes looked a bit puffy, and Kaires wondered if she had been crying.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘You look a bit under the weather.’
‘I'm fine. Just helping out in the dining room. Keeps me busy.’
‘I meant to ask you - could you see if any of the napkins are missing? Do they keep a count of these things?’
‘I'm sure they do. With the Prefect on board, every last scrap is noted down. He's very fussy about his accounts. Why?’
‘The cloth I found next to Mantios looked like it might have been one. Used by the murderer to wipe the blood off the knife. If anyone noticed whose was missing after breakfast this morning...’
‘I doubt it. They're all just jumbled together for the wash. But I'll ask, you never know.’
To Kaires's horror her eyes filled and she began to sob. ‘I'm sorry...’
Kaires went over and gave her a hug. ‘Don't be sorry,’ he said gently. ‘You haven't really had a good cry yet, have you? What with making sure your mother was all right before you left, coming on board to help me, prying about, acting a part...’
‘It was Mantios. All of a sudden it's too real. Seeing him lying there... I never saw my father just after he had been killed, only when he had been laid out before the funeral. He looked so calm and peaceful. Somehow I didn't believe he wouldn't come back when this was all over. But that's silly, isn't it? He's gone forever. Like Mantios. I'll never see him again.’
Kaires had no answer for her. He just continued to hold her tightly until the tears stopped and her breathing calmed. Taking a handkerchief he dried her eyes and gently kissed her forehead. ‘Come on, back to your room. You're exhausted. The doctor prescribes a good rest.’
This at least raised a smile, and Iola allowed herself to be led back to her room. Myrine wasn't there; Kaires had seen her up on deck with the others. Iola lay on her bed and seemed to drop off immediately. Kaires looked at her fondly. He wished he could ease her pain, but he had no medicine for grief. He drew the curtains and closed the door gently behind him.
-0-
Kaires tried to decide who to talk to first. Out of eight people in the library court that afternoon, six were left. After Zeno's death he had not been entirely sure that one of them had been responsible, although he had thought it likely. Now, after Mantios had been murdered here on the barge almost under his nose, he had no doubt that one of the remaining scholars must be the killer. He made a list in his head.
Mantios had been next in line for the Directorship. He was also almost bankrupt. Already in competition with him, could he also have found out about Zeno’s secret, killed him for the money and the directorship, and then in turn been killed by someone else? A bit far-fetched.
What about Dexios then? He now stood to become head of the Museum. Would he really kill two people in order to obtain that position? When Kaires thought of the extra honour - and money - that would now come his way, he thought it possible. The world of academia was a cut-throat business, perhaps almost literally true in this case. Mantios been killed just because of what he knew, rather than the fact that he stood in the way, but what about Zeno?
Thestor. What motive could he have? He would certainly benefit from his brother obtaining the Directorship. But was that enough?
Chaeremon, the oldest among them. Jealous that he had been passed over? Zeno's rival for Assia Alexia? He also was having financial problems. And what had he to do with Haemon? What had they really been talking about when Kaires had overheard them in the Temple?
Haemon himself. What Kaires had heard suggested he was deeply involved with something he didn't want anyone, least of all Kaires, to know about.
Prokles. Had his accident been a deliberate attempt on his life? If so, he had suggested he didn't know who was responsible. But what if he did? What if he knew it had been Zeno? Could revenge be his motive? But if so then why had Zeno wanted Prokles out of the way in the first place?
Aristeon. The scholar Kaires knew least about. He couldn't think of any reason why he might want to kill Zeno. But that didn't mean there wasn't one.
He decided to have a few words with Myrine. He wandered up to the top deck, where he found Thestor and Dexios standing by the rail, looking down over the market. Nearby he saw Myrine, working on a piece of embroidery in the shade of a stretch of awning. After greeting the brothers, he went over to her.
‘May I look?’ he asked. Myrine looked up and handed him her work, and he sat down beside her. He studied the picture that was forming under her needle; a garden scene with three figures, who looked like they were going to represent the three graces. It was exquisite.
‘I started it a while ago. It helps me to forget. When I'm working on it, I can't think of anything else.’
‘It's beautiful. Truly. I don't think I've ever seen anything so finely done.’
‘You're flattering me again. But thank you.’ She smiled.
‘Sorry to change the subject, but I wanted to ask you about this morning, at breakfast. Whether you saw anything out of the ordinary, anything that struck you as odd?’
Myrine considered for a moment. ‘I haven’t been here long enough to know what is or isn’t ordinary,’ she said, ‘but no, I don’t think I saw anything unusual.’
‘No one hiding a napkin, for instance?’
‘Whatever for? No, I don’t think so. Everyone was on best behaviour, being very polite. They were surprised that Iola and myself were thinking of joining them, at least for a while, and of course at Iola’s little deception. I was only pleased they didn’t seem too annoyed.’
‘You saw everyone leave?’
‘I wasn’t paying too much attention. I was talking to Thestor; a very interesting man. Dexios joined us, and we went ashore.’
‘But you’d seen Aristeon and Haemon go off together?
‘I think so... Dexios certainly did, he was being a bit snide about them. Thestor saw Prokles in the market, and when we went down – Thestor, Dexios and myself - we bumped into Chaeremon, who was talking to Strabo and the Prefect.’
‘And Iola and I were left with Mantios, who then went down to his room. We went ashore, and the doorkeeper swears none of us came back until Haemon and Aristeon appeared, shortly followed by me. Odd, isn’t it? Only the staff.’
‘Do you think someone slipped back on board, pretending to be a crew member?’
‘I very much doubt they’d get past the doorkeeper. In a place like this lots of curious people try to get on board, so he keeps a careful watch.’
‘Then that puts everyone in the clear, doesn’t it? Was it one of the crew? Perhaps one of them is a thief.’
‘I don’t think so. They’ve all been working for Nehesi for a long time.’
‘What about his servant? Maybe he had a grudge.’
‘He went on shore with some of the crew. It can’t
have been him.’
‘Poor Mantios, I wonder who hated him enough to kill him. He seemed harmless enough.’
‘Feared rather than hated, I think. When did you get back this morning?’
‘Not long after you. I was with Prokles in the market. He was helping me choose threads; he has a remarkably good eye. We saw you rushing up the gangplank, so we thought we’d better go back and see what was happening.’
‘Did you see the others come back?’
‘They all got ahead of us. I think we were the last back on board. Prokles can’t exactly walk very fast. Thestor and Dexios were together a minute or two in front of us, and the other three – Chaeremon, Strabo, and the Prefect, went on board just before we got there.’
Myrine picked up her embroidery and folded it carefully into a cloth bag. ‘Tell me, are we going on to Naucratis tonight? ‘
‘I don't think so. It's too late to start now. We'll be leaving at first light tomorrow morning.’
‘Oh good. I thought I might go down before the market packs up and see if I can find some more threads. I hadn’t quite got all the colours I need.’ She stood up. ‘Unless there's anything else I can do for you?’
‘No, thank you Myrine, you've been a great help.’ Kaires stood and watched her go down. In a moment she appeared on the gangplank below and made her way down to the quayside. Kaires raised his hand to give a little wave, but she didn't look back.
-0-
Dinner that evening was a restrained affair. There was not much talk. Even Gallus had little to say. Everyone was thinking about Zeno and Mantios, but with Myrine present no one wanted to mention their names. Strabo bravely tried to get the conversation going, asking about Naucratis, the next stop. He received only perfunctory replies and soon gave up.
After the fruit most of the diners drifted upstairs to the upper deck to catch the cool of the evening as the sun went down. Kaires waited until Thestor had finished, and stopped him as he passed by.
‘Could I have a word?’ he asked. Thestor looked at him, surprised.
‘With me? Well, if you think I can be of use,’ he said, doubtfully.
Kaires took a jug of wine and two cups from a side table, and led him to a corner of the dining room. A few moments later they were seated opposite each other across a plain table, each with a cup in hand and the jug between them. Kaires filled Thestor's cup and then his own.
He gave Thestor a moment to take a sip, and then spoke. ‘Did you see Mantios this morning?’
‘Yes, of course. After breakfast, talking to you.’
‘Before that?’
‘No. I mean, he came in to the dining room and helped himself to food. He didn't seem particularly sociable. I don't think he spoke to anyone.’
‘What did you do after breakfast?’
‘I went down with Dexios and Myrine into the town. I wanted to get a few things in the market, so he and Myrine went on ahead. I caught up with them outside the Temple of Osiris, talking to Iola. We decided to have a look at the Temple of Heracles. Iola was more interested in shopping and went off on her own. We weren't worried about her. She seems to be able to look after herself. Made a good job of pretending to be your servant. I presume that’s all she was?’
Kaires took a sip of his wine to cover his annoyance. ‘Did you see anyone else in the town?’
‘Not after that. Heracles proved a disappointment, and none of us wanted to see anything else. So we had a little lunch and headed back. We met Prokles at the market, and Myrine went off with him to look at threads or something. Dexios and myself bought some fruit. Then we saw you rushing about like you’d been bitten by a snake, so we followed to see what was happening.’
‘What did you do when you returned to the barge?’
‘We joined Aristeon and Haemon on the upper deck, to see if they knew what was going on. They didn’t. But it was hot in town and we needed to cool off, so we stayed up there and saw the Prefect return, followed by everyone else. The next thing we were aware of was the Prefect yelling his head off outside Mantios's room.’
‘I see.’ Kaires paused for a moment. ‘You said yesterday you thought you could do a better job than anyone else at determining the circumstances of Zeno's death. Have you reached any conclusions yet?’
Thestor looked slightly put out. ‘I was joking. I thought that was obvious. Like everyone else I have been giving it some thought. But I confess I have no idea. It seems extraordinarily senseless.’
‘What do you remember of that afternoon?’
‘The day Zeno died? Well, it all seemed so ordinary at the time. Nothing exceptional at all. I had gone to the library to look over some of Cicero's speeches. I teach oratory and rhetoric and needed some good examples for a lecture I was preparing for the next day. I gathered a few together and took them along with me to the study rooms. Zeno was just going out as I arrived, I think to get some lunch.’
‘Did he say anything to you?’
‘Nothing other than the usual greetings. He told me he was in the room on the left, so I knew not to take that one. That was all.’
‘How many of the other rooms were already occupied?’
‘I did walk round briefly to see which rooms were free. Aristeon had taken the room directly opposite Zeno, and Haemon was in the corner room next to Aristeon, on the near right as you enter. That was all. I made myself at home in the corner room on the near left.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘Well, nothing, really. Zeno came back from wherever he'd been, and I got down to work, preparing my lecture. I saw Dexios and Chaeremon enter together, and find rooms next to each other on the far right side of the court. Then Mantios came in. He went in to Zeno's room and they chatted for a moment. I couldn't hear what about. Mantios went in to the room next to Zeno. A bit later Prokles came in and settled in the far left corner room. Then I suppose we all got down to work.’
‘Did you see Zeno close his window shutters?’
‘No, but I heard him do it. I couldn't see in to his room from where I was sitting.’
‘And then? Did anyone else leave their rooms?’
‘As I said, it was a very dull and ordinary afternoon. After an hour or so Aristeon went out for a short while, and returned with another scroll. Later Dexios also left for a few minutes, probably to answer a call of nature. He wasn't gone long. Nobody else left their rooms until they started to go home.’
‘You didn't see or hear anything else?’
‘Not a thing. I was working hard.’
‘Who was the first to leave?’
‘I think it was Chaeremon. He had a lecture to give. Not long after Prokles came out at the same time as Haemon, and they left together. Mantios was next. I stayed for a while longer, and then left myself. I wanted to go to the gymnasium.’
‘Which you did?’
‘Which I did.’
Kaires pulled out the imprint he had made of Caesarion’s seal, and smoothed it out on the desk in front of Thestor. ‘What do you make of this?’ he asked.
There was no flicker of recognition or excitement in Thestor’s eyes. He leant his head forward and peered at it closely.
‘You are short sighted?’ asked Kaires.
‘A bit. But I can see things perfectly clearly close up. Better than others, in fact, so I am told.’ He looked up again. ‘This means nothing to me. I presume the cartouche is one of the Ptolemies, but I don’t read Egyptian.’
‘Never mind,’ said Kaires, pocketing the papyrus again. Mulling it all over for a few moments, he decided on the direct approach. ‘Do you have any idea who killed Zeno?’
Thestor looked him directly in the eye. ‘You should perhaps ask who would want to kill Zeno. He was perfectly harmless. I can't see why anyone should want him dead.’
‘Yet someone did, Thestor. It's not too hard to think of a reason. With Zeno and Mantios out of the way, Dexios is now almost certain to become Director. That will mean an enormous advantage for you, too. I merely mention it t
o demonstrate the possibility. You, as a philosopher, will understand.’
Thestor was not amused. ‘Hardly a strong enough reason. Even if one was completely without principles. In any event I don't see how anyone could have killed him, least of all myself. Maybe he killed himself. Or an outsider.’ Thestor put down his winecup. ‘You realise you will upset a lot of people if you go around questioning them like this. But I suppose I understand that you have to do it. We shall all just have to learn not to be too sensitive.’ He smiled. ‘After all, someone must have killed him. Maybe even you, Dr. Kaires.’
So saying, Thestor got up and left the room. Kaires watched him go. He rather liked Thestor. But he must be careful not to be too sensitive himself, as well.
-0-
It had been a long day, and Kaires was exhausted. He felt no further forward in finding a solution. Gallus was losing patience, and he was aware he was not making himself popular amongst his fellow travellers. He decided to take a turn around the top deck to get some fresh air, and then take himself off to bed.
The night was delightful. However hot the day, in the evening a cooling breeze always seemed to travel along the Nile from the North. Kaires stood at the top of the stairs and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face, shutting his eyes and tilting his head up to catch it.
‘It's peaceful, isn't it?’
Kaires turned. It was Prokles, seated a little way away in the shadows. ‘I was just enjoying a few moments of quiet before turning in. Why don't you join me? We can enjoy the solitude together, if that isn't too much of a paradox.’
‘Zeno’s paradoxes,’ muttered Kaires, to himself, but Prokles heard.
‘Achilles and the tortoise. The arrow. Yes. Now we have our own Zeno’s paradox.’
Kaires moved closer and took the proffered chair. For a while they sat in companionable silence, feeling the barge move gently under them, breathing in the air, and listening to the muffled sounds of the city.
Prokles was the first to speak. ‘I love this time of the day, when it's time to stop. Whatever we have been doing, or thinking, it all starts to wind down... Nature itself slows and becomes at peace.’