The Lydian Baker

36

I was shattered when I got back. Reaction, probably. Perilla was in, but I skipped dinner and went straight to bed. I didn't even stop for a cup of wine, which shows you how far gone I was.

I woke up early the next morning feeling great and slipped downstairs without disturbing Perilla: a sweet lady she may be in many ways, but morning person she isn't, and if she doesn't get her eight hours and wake natural the whole world suffers.

Bathyllus was up and around, though, and I got him to bring me breakfast in the garden. While I mopped up olive oil with my bread I ran over the current state of the case. For what it was worth.

First, the Baker itself. That we'd only have one crack at. I was pretty sure Tiny knew where it was hidden, but he was the only one left alive who did and I hoped to hell the next time I saw him wouldn't be as a stiff on the boat shed floor. Baker aside, any more corpses I could do without.

Who our villain was was less clear-cut. Alibi or not, my money was still on Demetriacus, however much of a shining light of his profession the guy's doctor was. He was the only candidate who accounted for all the facts, and a six-figure-value block of property would be a pretty good exchange for one little lie. Fortunately, that was one avenue I could check: Demetriacus might have Lysimachus in his pocket, but he'd also have slaves who'd know damn well where their master had been on the night in question. What was more, they'd be willing to tell me for less than the price of a City tenement.

On the other hand, if you took things differently and allowed for a few ragged edges (which might not even be ragged edges) then my pal Felix made a good second runner. Maybe even a scrape-home first. The guy was devious as a Market Square lawyer, he'd been after the Baker from the start, and he was totally devoted to his boss's interests. Yeah, I could believe in Felix. Except that his way of getting the statue wouldn't've included murder, especially multiple murder: one death Felix might regard as unavoidable, but three he'd see as downright sloppy workmanship. Felix was a con artist, not a killer. Demetriacus was different. That bastard was capable of killing, although when he did it'd be a carefully-chosen means to a definite end with all sorts of backups in place.

Yeah. Judging purely by temperament, even from what I'd seen of him I'd go for Demetriacus over Felix every time.

Maybe.

I sighed. What I wanted was both Felix and Demetriacus together, and that I couldn't have…

Or could I?

I stopped, an olive half way to my mouth. Okay. So let's let that one go and see how it runs. Demetriacus wouldn't want the statue for himself: he was a businessman, not an end-user, and he'd still need a customer. Felix was a natural. Say that Demetriacus approaches Felix, who he knows from any of a dozen different sources is interested in the statue. Or no, scrub 'interested': desperate. And as such not too choosey how he gets it. Yeah, that might fit, just. So when Smaragdus stages his double-cross the two join forces. Felix pretends to Smaragdus that he's on his side and…

No, that wouldn't do. For a start it only avoided Felix being involved in one of the murders, Argaius's, and I was still left with the problem of the doctor. Anyway, why should Felix 'pretend' anything?

Unless he was staging his own double-cross. Of Demetriacus this time. Only Demetriacus was wise to it and sent his agent Prince Charming to cut the corner. But then…

'Good morning, Marcus. Are you intending to eat that olive or just stare it to death?'

'Uh…morning, Perilla.' I put the olive down guiltily. 'Sorry, I was thinking. Neither. Maybe I'll just let it live.'

'Fine.' She kissed me. 'I take it you slept well.'

'Like a log.'

'So I noticed.' She sat down and reached for the rolls and honey. 'If logs snore. How's the investigation proceeding?'

'It isn't.'

'Nonsense.'

'Believe it. I've got two suspects and they're going round each other like a pair of kids' tops. That's to say if they aren't both part of the same top to begin with.'

'Now that really is nonsense.'

I helped myself to a roll. 'The killer has to be Demetriacus. Only it can't be if you believe his doctor Lysimachus because he wasn't at the Scallop to talk to Melanthus who's his only link with the Baker and who ends up that same evening with his throat slit by Prince Charming.'

'Pardon?'

'Or alternatively the villain's our old pal Felix aka Eutyches, working for Gaius in Rome. Only it can't be him either, because when push comes to shove twisted as the little bastard is I can't believe he'd stoop to murder. Not the Argaius kind, anyway. Nor Harpalus's. Let alone cutting that poor bastard Melanthus's throat, which makes no fucking sense at all.'

'Don't swear. There's no excuse for it even if you do feel frustrated.'

'I'll swear if I like, lady. And that was mild.'

'I'm also not particularly taken with snarling at breakfast.' Perilla dipped her roll in the honey. 'If there are difficulties with both then why need it be either? It could be someone else entirely.'

Oh, great! Marvellous! Just the help I needed! 'Jupiter, Perilla, there is no one else! Unless you think old Alciphron up at the Academy killed them all because their library books were overdue. Or maybe Melanthus didn't talk to Demetriacus after all. Maybe he popped out for a chat with Tiny and they fell out over a definition of beauty and the nature of the fucking soul.' I sat back and balled up my napkin ready to throw it into the rose bed…

I didn't do it. I didn't do it because suddenly everything shifted sideways, the sun came out and I knew beyond a doubt who the killer was. Somewhere, somebody coughed. I looked up.

'I'm sorry to disturb you, sir.' Bathyllus. And he had on his peeved prude look.

'Uh, yeah. Yeah, little guy,' I murmured. Gods! What an idiot! The answer was obvious! 'What is it?'

'You have a visitor.'

'A visitor?' I tried to get my brain back into kilter. What passed for my brain. 'At this hour of the morning?'

'Yes, sir. He sends his apologies, but he says it's important and he must see you.'

'Okay. So are you going to divulge the guy's name or do we get three guesses?'

'That won't be necessary, sir.' A sniff. 'The gentleman's name is Demetriacus.'

Perilla said something, but it didn't register. Demetriacus. Sure it was, it couldn't be anyone else. And if I was right then his business was important as hell; though why he'd decided to come now, and to me rather than Callippus, I didn't know…

'Marcus?'

'Hmm?'

'I asked if you were all right.' Perilla was staring at me, and she looked worried.

'Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. More than fine. Excuse me a minute, will you?'

I got up and followed Bathyllus inside. Demetriacus was sitting in the guest chair. He wasn't alone. Behind him stood Antaeus, glaring at me like Megaera the Fury watching Orestes put on his running shoes. Uh-oh. This might be tricky.

'Corvinus.' Demetriacus was looking grey. 'I'm sorry to disturb you so early, but since our talk I've been doing a lot of thinking.'

I nodded. 'And you've decided to come clean after all.'

He gave me a sharp look. Antaeus rippled.

'I told no lies.'

'I never said you did, friend.' I took the chair opposite. Slowly, and with both eyes on Antaeus. Shit, I wished I had my knife in its wrist sheath, but you don't expect to need that kind of insurance in your own home, especially over the breakfast porridge. 'All you're guilty of is being economical with the truth and trusting your staff too much.'

Antaeus shifted again. He was the bastard I had to watch: one word from his boss and, own home or not, I'd be dead meat before I could whistle.

Demetriacus was silent for a long time. Then he said quietly: 'You know what I came to say already, don't you?'

'Yeah, I know.'

'But not quite everything, I think. Hermippe isn't "staff".. She's my sister. Stepsister, rather. We had different mothers.'

I sat back as the last piece slid into place. Sister. That explained a lot. Come to that, it explained the whole bag. 'I didn't get that impression when we talked at the Scallop.'

'And I didn't intend that you should. I told you before, I don't like needless complications. Our relationship isn't common knowledge outwith the family; not even the girls know. Nor is it relevant to anything.' He paused. 'Or hasn't been, up to now. Which is why I am giving you the information.'

Bathyllus was hovering. I sent him for a jug of wine. 'You're partners? In the Scallop?'

'Yes. We always have been, since Melanthus sold it to us. And equal partners in all other respects as far as business is concerned.' Demetriacus paused again. 'Unofficially, of course. Hermippe's name doesn't appear on any deeds. It's unfortunate that our society won't tolerate a woman in business. Not in the higher reaches, that is; which was another reason for not making the relationship widely known.'

'You mean she's the brains and you're the front?'

'I wouldn't put it quite so crudely. We have our different strengths and weaknesses, and they balance each other. Hence our success. But Hermippe is certainly the driving force. The ruthless one, the risk-taker. My role is to implement her recommendations and follow them through. To be her public persona, if you like to call it that.'

'Uh-huh.' Check. That fitted in with what Callippus had told me. 'She certainly struck me as…full-blooded, shall we say.'

'Why not? It's a good phrase.' Demetriacus looked down at his carefully-manicured fingernails. 'Hermippe has always had greater appetites than I. In every way. Also she's much more intelligent.'

Yeah, well, maybe. Or it could be her intelligence just took a different slant. Certainly she had a high opinion of her own cleverness: one got you ten Perilla had been right about the Ptolemy statue.

'Don't put yourself down too much, friend,' I said. 'It's bad for the male image.'

He smiled. 'I'm a realist, Corvinus. If a thing is obvious I state it. That is one of my strengths.'

I thought of the Scallop's decor, and the way Hermippe had picked me up when I looked at the painting in the hall. 'She's interested in art, too, isn't she?'

'Very. It's one of her passions. And Hermippe has passions rather than interests. That was what first attracted Melanthus.'

I nodded: there had to be something like that going on. 'They were lovers?'

'Yes. From the first days of the Scallop. Before, even. Until my sister tired of him.'

Bathyllus tiptoed in with the wine. I didn't take my eyes off Demetriacus while he poured. 'Not the other way round?'

'No. They stayed friends afterwards, but Melanthus was by far the more constant of the two. He continued to use the Scallop because it was congenial and satisfied him physically, but I suspect he always hankered after a re-establishment of the old footing.'

That made sense too. I held out my hand for the wine cup. Bathyllus offered one to Demetriacus, but he shook his head. Yeah. I'd forgotten. Maybe I should've offered the guy some warm milk.

'So,' I said. 'Melanthus got into the habit of dropping in for what he hoped might turn out to be more than a chat after he'd finished upstairs.'

Demetriacus's lips pursed. 'Again I wouldn't put it so crudely, young man. If I have my weaknesses then so do you, and I'm afraid crudity is one of them.' Gods! 'I told you, Hermippe is intelligent. Very intelligent. Melanthus enjoyed talking with her. And when I was on the premises — which I was careful to be if possible when Melanthus visited — then we all talked together. For me it was an education, which is something I feel I have always lacked.'

Sure. And for Melanthus I'd bet it was one almighty pain in the rectum. Still, it takes two to make the third a gooseberry, so maybe I was being too hard on him. 'The staff — I mean the girls — knew about these little get-togethers, right?'

'Naturally. Although we encouraged the assumption that Melanthus was my particular visitor. That was Hermippe's idea, to avoid gossip. And our private quarters are out of bounds, so they wouldn't know whether I was there or not.' He gave a wintry smile. 'Mind you, being unaware of the true relationship between Hermippe and myself I believe the girls thought her already spoken for.'

Right. That added up. A brothel's like any other small closed community: the inmates live on gossip. And even if there was nothing in it Hermippe wouldn't be too keen on the rumour getting around that she was sweet on one of the customers and vice versa. Bad for discipline. It explained why Cotile hadn't made the link, too. Demetriacus wouldn't have objected, either: commercial big wheel or not, the guy obviously preened himself on his relationship with a top-notch philosopher, even if it did have to be kept private.

'Okay.' I took a swallow of wine. 'Let's summarise. Stop me if I go wrong. Melanthus regularly came round for a chat with your sister even when you were away.' Especially when the poor bugger was away; but there was no sense in labouring the point. 'They talked about high-powered stuff like philosophy and art. Then one day when you're bed-bound with your chronic gut ache Melanthus happens to mention to her that he's acting as quality control in negotiations for a certain unique statue. The buyer's a Roman, and Melanthus, being a good Greek, says he thinks it's a shame it should go abroad.'

'I'm sorry, Corvinus, but there I can't help you. If that is how things happened then as you say I wasn't present. And I knew nothing about this affair until after Watch Commander Callippus's visit, because Hermippe never mentioned the Baker.'

'Yeah. I'm coming to that, and it's important. Okay. Knowing that Hermippe is a rich woman in her own right as well as a culture buff Melanthus suggests they cut the Roman out in the interests of Greek solidarity. Maybe he also suggests — tactfully — that it would be good for the family and open a few closed doors, because gifting the Baker to the city would send her brother's street cred sky-high.'

'That is certainly a possibility,' Demetriacus said gravely. 'We'd talked about it often before in different terms. I had thought of building a porch, perhaps, or even a theatre.'

'Uh-huh.' A theatre! Holy Dionysus, the guy must be loaded! 'Only by telling Hermippe he made a bad mistake. As far as she was concerned the city fathers could go hang: she wanted the statue, sure, but she wanted it for herself, either to look at or to sell. And she'd no intention of paying for it if she could avoid it. Right?'

Demetriacus nodded slowly. 'Again, I can't speak from knowledge. But it fits Hermippe's character, certainly. As I told you, she has the ruthless streak in the family. And she has always found it hard to spend money when it isn't necessary.'

'The problem is, she can't afford to let things slide. You're out of the picture but it won't be forever. Sooner or later you'll be back at the Scallop and the first thing Melanthus will talk about when he calls in for his cosy post-coital chat will be the Baker.'

'Indeed. So she had him killed to stop me finding out.'

'She had him killed.' I swallowed the last of the wine in my cup and poured myself another belt. Maybe I should've offered Antaeus some, but I didn't know exactly what footing we were on here yet. 'Speaking of which, who's Prince Charming?'

Demetriacus looked blank. 'I'm sorry?'

'The heavy who did the actual killing. Must've done it. Callippus described him to you the last time we talked.'

'Glycus?' Jupiter! Pure accident, but I'd been close: the name means 'Sweetie'. 'He was the murderer?'

'Three times over, pal. And that's not counting Smaragdus.'

'Who?'

'It doesn't matter.' I waved the question away: I kept forgetting Demetriacus was an innocent after all. 'One of the owners of the statue. So who is this Glycus?'

'I mentioned my sister's appetites.' Demetriacus was frowning. 'Glycus is a freedman of hers, a slave she bought in Paphos before we left and manumitted last year. They have a…relationship.'

'Postdating Melanthus's?'

'Correct. Or so I believe.' The frown deepened. 'Corvinus, would you mind if we didn't go into that aspect of things? I find it very distasteful.'

Yeah, I'd believe it; I'd met the guy. And having your sister jump into bed with one of her slaves, manumitted or not, wasn't likely to go down a bundle with someone who hoped to be one of Athens's top Five Hundred one day either. 'No hassle, pal. There's one in every family. All I want to know is where I can find the bastard.'

'At the Scallop, of course. He has a room next to Hermippe's. But he won't be there at the moment.'

Something cold touched my spine. 'He won't?'

'No. I called round this morning to collect Antaeus: a precaution which I hope you don't resent. Glycus had already gone.'

'So where is he?'

Demetriacus looked up at his bodyguard. The big guy spoke for the first time. 'The Lady Hermippe sent him on an errand at first light, sir. To the Piraeus, I understand.'

I stared at him. Hell’s teeth! 'You happen to know where to in the Piraeus exactly?'

'No, sir.'

Tiny. It had to be Tiny. We'd been shadowed right enough. And first light meant that Glycus had at least a two hour start…

I put down my cup hard and yelled for Bathyllus.

'Yes, sir.' The little guy must've been hanging around outside.

'Tell Lysias I want the coach now.' I was on my feet. 'Make that as of ten minutes ago.'

'Of course, sir.'

'Is something wrong, Corvinus?' Demetriacus's eyes were wide.

The understatement of the century; but then he didn't know the details. 'Yeah. Your Glycus is just about to raise his total to four. Plus maybe one solid gold statue.' The little guy was still hovering. Gods alive! 'Bathyllus, will you get the fucking coach!'

'Take mine. It's waiting outside.' Demetriacus turned to Antaeus. 'Go with him.'

I hesitated, then decided: if I had Prince Charming to face then Antaeus would be useful to have along. 'Okay, sunshine,' I said. 'You're on the team. Give me a minute to get my knife.'

We set off for the Piraeus at a speed that nearly knocked my teeth loose. All the way I was praying to every god I knew that Tiny would still be breathing when we got there; but we were two hours behind, and I wouldn't've risked any bets.