The Lydian Baker

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?'

'Sure. And before you ask, it's definitely a home address because the guy went straight in.'

'Uh-huh. Nice going, friend.' Well, one out of two wasn't bad. And I'd like a few words with Hercules, certainly.

'You wanted us, master?'

The insurance policy had turned up, grinning and fingering very serious damage limitation clauses. Evidently broom closets were more interesting places than I'd thought.

'Sure, boys.' I jerked my head towards the carriage. 'In you get. We're going for a ride.' I doubted now that they'd be necessary — if the Ethiopian had wanted to put a permanent crease in my skull he could've done it the last time we'd met — but they looked so happy I didn't have the heart to send them back.

I made sure I had my knife in its wrist sheath, though. Some things you don't take for granted.

. .

The property near the Shrine of Hera was pretty upmarket, even for Colonus, which is out in the suburbs and one of the places the rich and good choose to build. Not in Demetriacus's league, of course, but a good solid detached house in a prosperous street, with a walled garden and a freshly- whitewashed front. We pulled up outside.

'Wait here, Dida,' I said, getting out. 'You boys come with me. And no unauthorised moves. We don't want to annoy the neighbours. Clear?'

'Clear, master,' the spokesman said. The guy looked disappointed, but they'd had their trip out and I couldn't be expected to provide all the entertainment.

Okay. So here went nothing. I lifted the heavy bronze knocker and let it fall.

The door was opened by a slave dressed in a smart blue tunic. His eyes widened when he saw the Heavenly Twins, but he bowed and stepped back into the lobby. I was impressed: I could've been paying a courtesy call on some grey-haired ex-archon. For that matter, maybe I was.

'Come in, lord,' the slave murmured. 'The master is expecting you.'

'Uh…he is?' That was news to me, unless the guy was an augur.

'Yes, lord. If your name is Marcus Valerius Corvinus. He has been for several days now, I understand.'

I blinked: somebody was crazy here, and I didn't think it was me. I waved the twins in ahead and stepped over the threshold.

'You…uh…mind telling me your master's name?' I said. 'Just for the record?'

The door slave's eyebrows rose several notches; well, from his point of view I suppose it did sound a pretty stupid question for an expected visitor to ask, but I was beyond caring.

'Eutyches, lord,' he said.

My jaw almost hit the fancy marble floor. 'Who?'

'Eutyches.' He turned. 'He's in the garden at present. If you'd care to follow me, please.'

I went in a dream. The slave led me through the portico into a walled garden at the back, where a little guy in a bright yellow tunic was sitting in the shade of a pear tree communing with nature. When he saw me coming he got up smiling and came towards me, his hand held out, and a huge chunk of the puzzle fell gently into place.

'Eutyches'. Shit. Of course he was. How could I have been so stupid?