The Lydian Baker

25

When I walked into the cookshop the owner was arranging rissoles on a platter. The place was empty.

'Hey, friend,' I said. 'Remember me?'

'Sure.' He straightened and scowled. 'The wine expert.'

'Don't let it rankle, pal.' There was a stool beside the counter. I sat on it. 'We can't all be born with palates.'

He was looking at my bruised face. 'You have an argument with someone?'

'Just a minor disagreement.'

'Smaragdus?' His mouth split into a grin. On that mug it was as out of place as a gorilla in a barbershop. 'Never knew the bastard had it in him.'

'Not with Smaragdus.'

'Pity.' He set the last rissole on top of the pile. A circling fly moved in for the kill. 'So. What'll it be?'

I took out my purse slowly. 'I was hoping you could help me a bit more over names. What's yours, by the way, while we're on the subject?'

'Euphrastus.' Jupiter! His parents must've had some sense of humour! 'And this is a cookshop, friend. You sit down, you eat. I've got a living to make.'

'Uh-huh.' I cast an eye over the contents of the counter. What I could see of them under the flies and the layer of grease. 'You have anything there that didn't go woof once and wag its tail?'

'Not a lot.' Gods! Well, I'd asked and he'd told me. 'How about beans?'

'Beans are fine.'

He lifted the lid of a casserole on the stove, ladelled a grey mess onto a plate and added a chunk of bread and a spoon. 'Wine?'

'No wine. Definitely no wine.'

'Suit yourself.' He put the plate in front of me and licked sauce off his thumb. 'Enjoy.'

Not the word I would've used. I tasted the glop and pushed it away. If Pythagoras was right the souls that'd gone into the pot would've done better to have stayed in the queue. 'Okay,’ I said. ‘Now the information.'

'About Argaius? You're wasting your time. There's nothing more I can tell you. The guy's dead and his wife's left town.' He leered. 'Shame. That's one widow I wouldn't mind comforting.'

'Not about Argaius. About Smaragdus.'

'You didn't find him at Mamma Glypho's?'

'He's moved.' If the guy hadn't heard that Smaragdus was dead I wasn't going to tell him. He might get jittery. Certainly the price would go up. 'His friend Harpalus is gone too.'

‘That so?' Euphrastus indicated the plate between us. 'You going to eat that, by the way, or let it go to waste?'

'I'll pay for it, if that's what you mean. Otherwise I'll pass.'

'Fine. I was just going to eat myself anyway.' He dunked the bread in the bean mash and took a soggy bite. My stomach turned. 'So Glypho finally threw the bugger out, right? I'm not surprised. A guy like that, he's bad for trade.'

I tried not to watch as he shovelled down the beans like there was no tomorrow. Well, at least I couldn't say he didn't have the courage of his own culinary convictions.

'Did Smaragdus have any other business associates besides Argaius?'

'Sure.' He licked a stray scrap of sauce from the spoon handle. 'What else would you expect? Doing deals with people was his job.'

'Can you give me names?'

'Go down to the harbour. Anyone you see there, put him on the list. Smaragdus has dealings with half the Piraeus.'

That was discouraging, but I hadn't come all this way just to give up. 'Regulars, Euphrastus. We're talking regulars.'

He reached a leisurely finger to the back of his mouth, pulled out a lump of grit the size of a cobble, inspected it and flicked it to one side. It landed in the tray of rissoles. 'Regulars I wouldn't know. And unlike some other nosey bastards I don't care.'

Well, it'd been worth a try. I could always drop by the harbour like he suggested and ask around. Meanwhile there was another tack.

'Okay. So what about the other end? People who worked for him? If Smaragdus had a job that involved rough work, heavy lifting, say, who would he go to?'

'He'd hire any help he needed at the Emporium, same as anyone else. There's always plenty of cheap muscle around on the quayside. Or he'd just use Tiny.'

'Tiny?'

'Big guy.' Euphrastus tapped his temple. 'Soft in the head. You met him already. He was in last time you were here with that dog of his.'

Shit, yes, I remembered Tiny! I might be on to something here. 'You happen to know where I can find him?'

That got me a long considering stare. 'Maybe.'

I sighed and undid the purse.

Zea Harbour wasn't much used these days, and hadn't been for a long, long time, not since Athens gave up any pretence of being a naval power and the government shipyards were left to rot. Most of the traffic was local: small-time shippers cutting costs on dues levied at the main dock on the other side of town or fishermen landing their catch. The old trireme sheds were still standing, but most of them were empty and locked up. Waiting for better days, maybe, like the rest of the Piraeus. The whole place had a shabby, grey look to it that made me feel depressed as hell.

At the quayside closest to me there were three boats moored, one of them a coastal tub. Guys in grimy tunics were unloading what looked like sacks of cement and iron scrap into a cart while the shipmaster chewed on an apple and watched. I went over.

He tossed the core away when he saw me coming.

'Yes, lord? You're looking for a boat?' he said.

'Not today. But I am interested in the help.'

The eager look vanished. 'These men are already hired. Try the Emporium.'

'I'm interested in one guy in particular. A big guy, simple in the head. Name of Tiny.'

'Is that right?' He gave me a long stare, then shrugged and shouted: 'Bessus!'

One of the men loading the cart dumped his bag of cement and came over, wiping his hands on his tunic.

'Someone here looking for Tiny,' the master said, and walked off to check his bilges.

I turned to the new guy. 'I was told he works here sometimes,' I said.

'That's right.'

'You know where I can find him?'

The man shook his head. 'I know him, lord, sure, but he isn't one of ours. Not a regular. He comes and goes. You want him special?'

'I think he might've done a job for a friend of mine. I wanted to check, that's all.'

'Uh-huh.' He looked doubtful. 'Who would this friend be, now?'

'A guy called Smaragdus.'

'Smaragdus?' His face split into a grin. 'Sure, I know Smaragdus. Then it's likely, although I can't say for certain. Tiny's choosy who he works for, but he has a soft spot for Smaragdus.'

'Choosy?'

He hesitated. 'You've met him, lord? Tiny, I mean?'

'Yeah. Once.'

'Then you'll know how he is.' He must've seen the look on my face. 'Oh, he's harmless. Tiny wouldn't hurt a fly. But he has his likes and dislikes, and you can't budge him. Smaragdus is one of the likes.'

Right. That fitted. 'How is he as a worker?'

'Like I say, it depends. When he works he works.' He nodded at the cement bags. 'I've seen him carry four of these, two beneath each arm, without breaking sweat. Keep it up, too.'

'Then maybe I should hire him instead of you, Bessus.' The master was back, and obviously I'd used up any goodwill there was going from that quarter. 'That cart isn't going to load itself.'

'No problem, friend,’ I said. ‘One minute more, okay?' The guy frowned, but there wasn't much he could do without telling me straight just to piss off. He drifted off again, and I took out a four- drach piece from my purse.

'My name's Valerius Corvinus,' I said. 'I've got a house in the City, on the Lyceum road past Hippades Gate. If and when Tiny shows up bring him round and I'll match this with another. Deal?'

Bessus shook his head. 'Save your money, lord,' he said. 'Nobody takes Tiny nowhere he doesn't want to go. And I'll tell you now that he won't.'

Bugger. Well, at least he was honest. 'Do your best, okay?' I handed him the coin and waved to the shipmaster. 'Thanks for your patience, friend.'

The guy gave me a sour nod. I walked back towards the harbour gates where I'd left Lysias with the coach.

Four cement bags at a go and a shine for Smaragdus, right? Maybe I'd hit lucky after all.