The Lydian Baker

35

Forget the quiet afternoon. When I got back it was to find Bessus the Piraeus stevedore waiting for me in the hall where Bathyllus had left him sitting on the door slave's bench and kicking his plebeian heels. Jupiter! Things were moving now with a vengeance!

'You've found Tiny, pal?' I said.

He nodded. 'He showed up first thing this morning, lord. Another loading job. We finished early and I followed him home.'

'Uh-huh.' As I picked up the regulation wine jug and cup from the hall table and led the way through to the atrium I should've been crowing, but I wasn't. I had a nasty feeling about this. Sure, Bessus couldn't have done it any other way, but I suspected that Tiny was a man who valued his privacy. 'He see you, by any chance?'

The guy looked uncomfortable. 'He may have done, lord,' he said at last. 'I didn't think it mattered.'

I groaned. He didn't think it mattered! Oh, great. Fantastic. That put the lid on. Well, it was my own fault, I should have warned him, and there wasn't anything I could do about it now. At least he'd found where the guy lived. I poured and drank.

'You want some wine?' I said.

'Sure.' The stevedore grinned; probably surprised I hadn't chewed his balls off.

I turned to Bathyllus, who'd padded in on my blind side and was pointedly ignoring Bessus. 'Bring us another cup, little guy. And tell Lysias to bring the coach round.'

'Yes, sir. At once, sir.' Stiff as hell: Bathyllus's standards don't allow for serving Setinian to dock hands. Still, from Zea to the Hippades Gate was quite a walk, unless he'd hitched a lift on a wagon, and the guy's tongue would be trailing the marble. 'Do I take it, then, sir, that you'll be going straight out again?'

'Got it in one, Bathyllus. You win the nuts.' I sank another quarter pint: if I had to go all the way to the Piraeus and back, even by carriage, I needed to get tanked up first. Especially if I was meeting Tiny. 'Is the mistress around, by the way?'

'No, sir. She's visiting her friend Euelpida, as I understand.'

Nestor's latest victim. I grinned, wondering if she'd taken the ivory plaque with her. I hoped so: Euelpida needed as much fun out of life as she could get. 'Okay. Just say to her when she gets back not to hold dinner.'

'Very well, sir.' Bathyllus oiled out. I'd been counting those 'sirs' and I made it five. The little guy was seriously miffed.

'Now.' I waved Bessus to a chair. 'Tell me.'

'He's camping out in one of the old trireme sheds.'

'Yeah?' That made sense. The Zea sheds might've been out of commission for the past two hundred years, but they were a dosser's dream. If he could get into them, that was. 'I thought these places were kept locked up. They're still government-owned, aren't they?'

'Sure.' Bessus shrugged. 'But he'd broken off the padlock. And who cares, these days? Most of the sheds are empty.'

Yeah, that was true. Ninety percent of the Piraeus trade went through the main harbour on the other side of the peninsula. Even let out as warehouses the sheds wouldn't be at a premium.

Bathyllus came with the extra cup and I filled it. Bessus downed the Setinian in one while the little guy fizzed.

'Lysias says he's ready when you are, sir,' he said.

'That's good.' I poured out two more belts and gave Bathyllus the jug. 'Put that into a travelling flask, would you, sunshine? And wrap up a sausage or two and a bit of bread while you're at it. We may get peckish on the way.'

'Peckish, sir. Indeed, sir.'

That made it eight. A record. He left, radiating disapproval, while I went through to the study to restock my purse. First the carriage drivers, now the stevedores' guild. This was getting serious: if I wasn't careful the Roman aristocracy would lose their reputation for exploiting the provincials.

We set off for the Piraeus.

Even if I'd known Tiny was living in one of the trireme sheds finding him wouldn't have been easy, because there were a good two hundred of the buggers, stretching all the way round the harbour. Bessus led me to one of the last in the line, not far from the harbour gates. It was big — it would have to be, to take four warships plus their tackle — and access from the land side was by a heavy wooden door fastened with iron bolts and a padlock. Or rather, the door should've been fastened; the padlock was missing and the bolts were drawn. Uh-huh. So either Tiny was in residence or he hadn't bothered to lock up when he left.

I looked round carefully before we went in. The harbour area wasn't exactly deserted, but as far as I could see there was no obvious candidate for a tail. Which didn't mean much. Sure, we'd probably given Memnon the slip with our fast turnaround, but that didn't mean to say we were running free: Felix would've had the house watched as well, and by a face I didn't know. Maybe Demetriacus, too, if his alibi was pure moonshine and he was our villain after all.

The big guy wasn't at home. Oh, we'd got the right place, that was sure: almost immediately behind the door in the space reserved for tackle was a homemade brazier and a truckle bed with a rough blanket on top. Two earthenware bowls stood on the floor beside the bed, one filled with water, one with scraps of meat. Of course: Tiny had had a dog. I remembered the dog. There was nothing else, not so much as a spare undershirt.

'Lord, I'm sorry.' Bessus was frowning. 'He must've spotted me after all.'

'Yeah.' A pity, but like I said it couldn't be helped. He'd be back.

Those drawn bolts, though…

Maybe the cupboard was bare, but I had the feeling we were being watched. Not a pleasant feeling, either. I peered into the shadowy interior of the shed where the triremes themselves had been. Enough light was coming in through the gaps the builders had left between the roof joists to see by, but he could've been hiding anywhere; behind a pillar, maybe, or in one of the niches that lined the walls. Or just lying flat and motionless on one of the quays. Empty though it was, the place was big enough for even Tiny to hide in. Not that I was going to go looking for him. No way. I hated hide and seek even as a kid, and just the thought of that huge mad guy jumping out on me gave me goose-bumps.

'Hey, Tiny!' I shouted. 'You there?'

I waited until the echoes died away. Finally. I felt the hairs crawl on my scalp. Something was listening, sure, I knew that in my gut. The problem was, in that place it could've been just that: something. I found myself hoping the silence wouldn't be broken by the splash of oars…

This was silly. I was being too imaginative for my own good. I tried again.

'Tiny! Remember me? The Roman in the cookshop? I want to talk to you. About a statue you moved for your pal Smaragdus.' Again I waited. Nothing but echoes, and the feeling of eyes. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. 'Hey, Tiny! There's no need to be frightened, pal! No hassle, I promise!'

Still nothing, but the echoes whispered. My throat constricted. Okay, I was spooking myself here unnecessarily, I knew that, it wasn't rational…

What the hell. Suddenly I knew that Baker or not, pride or not, I had to get out.

'You want to call it a day, Bessus?' I said as casually as I could manage.

He gave me a sharp look and shrugged his shoulders. 'Your decision, lord.'

I swallowed. 'Fine. We'll give it just one more try, okay?' I owed that, at least, to my self-respect, especially since it seemed I was the only one doing the sweating. This time I had to work to keep my voice from cracking.

'Tiny! You know Bessus here! If you don't want to talk with me now then that's fine, that's okay, just fix a meeting up with him. Any time, any place, I'll be there.' Jupiter! I was babbling. Fix up a meeting, nothing: from what I'd seen of the guy I'd back his dog against him intellectually any day. Still, what else could I do?

Get out, that was what. Before the echoes had properly died down I was moving towards the door, trying to keep from running. Telling myself I was acting like a five year old didn't help, either.

I made it without a whimper. Just. Fresh air had never tasted sweeter. I leaned against the door jamb and breathed deeply.

Bessus was behind me. He was still looking at me like I'd turned purple and sprouted feathers.

'You okay, lord?' he said anxiously.

'Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.' I wondered what he was seeing in my face. Ah, the hell with it: madness I just couldn't take, especially when it was hiding in the dark. Fumbling in my purse, I took a gold piece out and handed it to him. 'Here. With my thanks.'

He stared at it. 'That's too much,' he said. 'Far too much. Tiny wasn't there.'

'Sure he was.' I was breathing easier now, but I still wouldn't've gone back inside that shed for a dozen jars of Caecuban. 'And you'll earn it. Or at least I hope you will. I want this place watched, day and night, until the guy comes out. And if you can get him to me or me to him, then the pay's doubled. You understand?'

'Sure.' He looked uncomfortable. 'But I told you before. Tiny doesn't do nothing he doesn't want to.'

'That's your problem, pal. Even so, I have to see him and I'm not going inside there again. Keep in touch, okay?'

I left him standing and walked back to where Lysias had parked the carriage. I wasn't feeling too proud of myself, and the trip had been less than satisfactory all round, but I didn't see how else I could've played things. If Tiny had been there — and even now when I was out and half-way rational again I'd bet he had been, and heard every word — I'd at least left a message. Now it was up to him and Bessus.

And to Argaius's killer, whoever he was. We could've been seen going in to that shed, sure we could; there were enough places for a watcher to hide round about the harbour, especially if the watcher wasn't a familiar face. Beggars can't be choosers but I just hoped I hadn't made a mistake.