The Lydian Baker

4

I parked my superfluous carcass on the dining room couch. What the hell was going on here? Sure, the basic scenario was obvious: Argaius had been suckered into a phoney business assignation on Mounychia by Prince Charming or his boss, probably the latter because Prince Charming hadn't exactly struck me as the artistic type. The 'why' was obvious, too: whoever had snatched the guy had done it to get his hands on the Baker without going through the tedious process of actually buying it. I didn't know much about Greek business etiquette, but I'd bet that wasn't normal practice. Which meant that someone out there wanted Priscus's statue pretty badly. Badly enough to put themselves outside the law to get it.

A straightforward assessment of the situation, right? Only from the angle I'd been coming from so far it made as much sense as an oyster running for consul. If this was a scam like I'd been assuming then lifting Argaius was crazy. The corollary of that was that maybe the statue was genuine after all, and Prince Charming's boss knew it. On the other hand, bubblehead Chrysoulla had let slip that if Argaius wasn't exactly crooked he was the next thing to it, certainly the kind of citizen whose disappearance the authorities wouldn't bend over backwards to investigate. So the guy had form, and guys with form who offer to sell rich punters long-lost solid gold statues with Herodotean pedigrees for large amounts of gravy rate pretty low on anyone's credibility scale. On the other other hand, even if by some miracle Argaius was playing straight then how the hell had a small-time Piraeus crook got his hands on a seriously-missing six-hundred-year-old art treasure in the first place?

Conversely, the whole deal might still be phoney as a landlord's tears, and whoever had kidnapped Argaius was just a mad, misguided, gormless enthusiast like Priscus with all the common sense and social conscience of a walnut…

My brain was beginning to hurt. I poured out a full cup of wine and downed it in one. What did it matter, anyway? Perilla had had a point: I'd no personal interest in this, and just thinking about spending that much on a statue, solid gold or not, genuine or not, brought me out in hives. The best thing I could do was send Chrysoulla down to Watch headquarters with a note for the commander asking as a favour if he'd look into the matter and then write to Priscus saying the deal had fallen through. And if that meant screwing up Mother's sex life for the next few months then tough cheese. She'd just have to spend her time in Baiae taking cold baths and learning to crochet.

I was getting up to give our uninvited guest the polite brush-off when Perilla appeared in the doorway.

'She's all right now,' she said. 'It's safe to come back through.'

'Fine.' I picked up the wine jug. 'Just give me five minutes in the study first, okay?'

'To do what?'

'To write a letter for her to show Callippus.' Callippus was the City Watch commander.

Perilla was frowning. 'Wouldn't it be better if you went in person?'

'What for? She's a big girl, she can manage these things on her own, and the guy won't eat her.'

'Yes, but you could explain matters yourself in more detail, couldn't you?'

Jupiter! I thought I was being crystal clear here, but obviously something wasn't getting through. Maybe I was more tired than I'd thought. 'Perilla,' I said, 'listen. For once I'm going to take your advice, okay? I'm going to drop this thing like a hot brick, right now.'

'But Marcus, dear, you can't do that!'

I stared at her. 'Run that past me again, would you? I must've missed something.'

'The poor girl is in a terrible state. You heard what she said about having no one to go to for help. And whatever you put in your letter you know perfectly well that Callippus is not going to take any action whatsoever.'

'Maybe not, but that's up to him. Argaius is a crook, after all. Chrysoulla practically admitted it.'

'That has nothing to do with it. He's Chrysoulla's husband and he has gone missing under very suspicious circumstances. If the authorities won't take action then someone ought to.'

'Not me, lady.'

'Very well.' Her jaw set. 'Then I most certainly will.'

Oh, shit. Double shit. I knew that tone. There was a flash of green on the wall as our friendly household gecko streaked for cover.

'Perilla,' I said slowly. 'Are you serious about this?' She didn't even bother to answer. 'Only let's just get things straight here and now so's there's no comeback later. You actually want me to start digging the dirt on this Baker scam after all?'

'I want you to find the girl's husband for her, yes.'

'Don't fudge. Just answer the question.'

'Marcus…'

'Uh-uh.' I was beginning to enjoy myself. Perilla was caught, and it wasn't often I got the chance to see her squirm. 'I'm happy either way. Just give me a straight yes or no.'

'Corvinus, I will kill you for this. I swear.'

'No swearing. Besides, Chrysoulla may be a bubblehead, but she's a stunner. And I never could resist stunners who ask me to do something for them. As you know yourself from experience.' I was grinning, and although she didn't say anything Perilla's lips twitched. 'So. Put up or shut up. Is it yes or no?'

'Marcus Valerius Corvinus, you are an absolute rat.'

'Admitted. Yes or no?'

She bent forward and kissed me slowly. 'Yes,' she said.

'Okay. So let's do it.'

Chrysoulla was dabbing her nose with a napkin. She looked like a small and very sexy dormouse.

'I'm sorry, lord,' she said.

'Hey, that's all right.' I poured myself another cup of Setinian and lay down on the couch. This time Perilla lay down beside me. 'You mind answering a few more questions?'

That got me a guarded look. 'What sort of questions?'

'Nothing complicated. If we're going to help then we need some information. First off, what exactly do you know about the Baker?'

'Nothing. I told you, Argaius doesn't talk to me about work.'

'You know what it is?'

'Of course.' She seemed proud of herself. 'A solid gold statue, from the old days. Argaius says it's over five hundred years old.'

'Have you seen it? Do you know where it is?'

'No, lord.'

'Which question's that an answer to?'

She hesitated, frowning. I reckoned we were working at the limit of the lady's linguistic and intellectual capacities here.

'Both,' she said at last.

Well, I hadn't expected anything else. If Argaius hadn't discussed the ordinary day-to-day stuff over their breakfast porridge he was hardly likely to have told her where he'd cached their key to a fortune. And the odds on the statue being in the Piraeus flat doubling as a towel rack weren't worth quoting.

'So you can't tell us anything?' I said. 'Nothing at all? Like where your husband got it from, for example?'

Her brow cleared. 'Oh, I know that, lord! It's a family heirloom.'

I sighed. Yeah. Sure. And I was a pygmy with a grass skirt and a bone through my nose. A four-and-a-half foot solid gold statue handed down the family line like Aunt Calliste's Corinthian vase I just wouldn't swallow. Still, Argaius had had to tell her something, no doubt, and even Chrysoulla wouldn't believe the old chestnut of the Baker having fallen off the back of a delivery cart.

'Okay, let's change tack,' I said. 'What about this guy your husband was going to meet in Mounychia?'

'I told you, lord. He just said a man. A "potential customer"'. The careful phrasing again, like she was quoting. Probably she was.

'Had he mentioned anyone before? Anyone who was interested in the Baker?'

'Oh, yes.' She brightened again. 'A man in Rome. Very rich, but a bit' — she spun a finger against her temple — 'you know.'

'Yeah, I know.' I sighed again: it was as good a description of Priscus as I could've given. 'Forget him. That's the guy I'm agenting for. Anyone else? Someone more local, maybe?'

'No. At least, no one I know. But then Argaius — '

'Didn't talk to you about the business. Yeah. I've gathered that.' I elbowed Perilla in the ribs. 'You got any questions, Aristotle?'

'Only one,' Perilla said. 'For you, Corvinus, actually. How did your cookshop friend know you'd be coming round to Argaius's this morning?'

I opened my mouth to answer — and then closed it again. Fair point. Of course, it could've been coincidence, but still… Especially since our star informant here didn't know of any other punters in the running. It was worth thinking about, anyway. And while we were on the subject of our star informant…

'Hey, Bathyllus!' I shouted. The little guy wasn't actually in the room, but I knew professional pride would've kept him within yelling distance. Sure enough he padded in before the echoes had faded.

'Yes, sir.'

'Make up a spare bed,' I said. 'Our guest here's sleeping over.'

Bathyllus looked at Perilla, eyebrows raised. She nodded.

‘Oh, no, lord!' The dormouse was looking shocked. 'I couldn't! It wouldn't be proper!'

'Look, Chryssoula,' I said. 'Go home now and if your pal with the sausage finds out where you've been you're in trouble up to your earrings. Besides, if this whole thing's a mare's nest and Argaius has been out on the tiles the guy can do a little worrying on his own account.' I'd've laid out good money that wherever the hell Argaius was he wasn't tomcatting, but there was no point in making things worse for her than they were already. 'First thing tomorrow morning we go down to City Watch Headquarters and have a word with the boss. After that we take things as they come. Agreed?'

'Very well, lord. Thank you.'

'Don't mention it. Go with Bathyllus, okay?'

She left, still sniffing.

From the looks of things, I had a busy day ahead. An early night still seemed a good idea. I ran a hand down Perilla's arm.

'Bed, lady?' I said.

'Bed.' She smiled.

Ah, well. Better late than never.