The Lydian Baker (Marcus Corvinus Book 4)

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The Lydian Baker (Marcus Corvinus Book 4) Page 17

by David Wishart


  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.

  26.

  I spent the afternoon pottering around the city centre, doing all the little jobs I hadn't had time for these past few days. Like visiting my banker Simon, for example, and screwing some of Priscus's money out of him for expenses. I didn't mind helping the old guy out, but when it came to being beaten up on his account the free ride was over. When I got back Perilla was in the atrium. She didn't look happy. I kissed her, but that didn't seem to help much.

  'Problems?' I said.

  She threw aside the book she hadn't been reading. I could almost see the steam leaking out from above her earrings.

  'Marcus, this is hopeless! You really will have to get rid of that damned bird!'

  Oh, hell. Not Nestor again. I knew now how Orestes felt when he couldn't shake the Furies. I took off my mantle and tossed it onto a chair. 'What's he done this time?'

  She was up and pacing the room. 'I don't mind so much for myself, but when it comes to insulting my friends I draw the line.'

  Uh-oh. 'Ah...we talking general here, or have you someone particular in mind?'

  'The latter.' She sat down, finally, on the couch next to me. 'And "particular" is exactly the right word. Euelpida.'

  Shit. I saw the problem. Euelpida was one of Perilla's more strait- laced cronies, the wife of a top Lyceum scholar and a mean mind herself. Nestor couldn't have made a better – or a worse – choice. It was eerie.

  'She called round earlier for a chat,' Perilla was saying, 'and we went out to the garden.' The 'chat' would've been heavy stuff: I was glad I'd missed it. 'It never occurred to me, of course, that Alexis might have Nestor there. He usually keeps him in his room.'

  'And the bastard disgraced himself in front of Euelpida, right?'

  'At some length. And in very pungent terms.'

  'You remember what he said, by any chance?' I was really interested: Nestor's range of vocabulary was doing wonders for my Greek.

  'Not in detail, no.' Sure. Like hell she didn't. Understood it, too: there were red spots high on the lady's cheekbones. 'And I certainly wouldn't repeat it to you if I did.'

  Pity; but then I hadn't really expected her to. Some aspects of foreign language learning Perilla doesn't encourage. I lay back and cradled my wine cup. Bathyllus had left the tray out in the hall for me as usual, although there was no sign of the little guy himself. Hardly surprising. When Perilla was in a mood like this even spiders kept a low profile.

  'Okay,' I said. 'I'll talk to Alexis later. Maybe we can work something out.'

  'You had better. That bird is a liability. A corrupting influence.'

  'You think Euelpida is open to corruption?' I gave her my best leer. 'Does Aristoboulus know?' Aristoboulus was Euelpida's husband, a long streak of a guy like an asparagus shoot soaked in vinegar.

  'Don't be silly!'

  'Yeah, well, you could be right.' I put my arm round her shoulders. 'But speaking of corrupting influences...'

  'Now you're trying to fudge the issue!'

  'Lady, I never fudge issues.' I nuzzled her ear. 'And I'm sure in Euelpida's case Aristoboulus would welcome some constructive corruption. The poor boob could do with a bit of domestic excitement.'

  The sides of Perilla's mouth began to twitch; I was getting through to her at last. 'I suppose,' she said slowly, 'that in retrospect the situation does have its amusing side.'

  'That's more than can be said for Euelpida.' I kissed her properly and felt the first small giggle break through. 'What did she say? After Nestor did his stuff, that is?'

  'Nothing.' Perilla bit her lip. The lady was still holding on gamely to her Roman matron pose, but the cracks were definitely beginning to show. 'She just ran back inside.'

  I stared at her. 'Euelpida? Run?' Jupiter! That I would've loved to see. As far as likelihood went, it ranked with the Academy doing a conga through the Marketplace with Alciphron on spoons.

  'Like a hare!' The Roman matron pose finally collapsed, taking Perilla with it. 'Oh, and Marcus, she squeaked! It was so dreadfully embarrassing!'

  'Yeah.' I kissed her again. 'Say what you will about Euelpida, the kid's no squeaker.'

 
'Corvinus, stop it, please!' Perilla was hugging her ribs. 'I've been trying to hold this in all day! It's not funny!'

  'Is everything all right, sir? Madam?' I hadn't noticed Bathyllus sidling in. The little guy had evidently decided it was safe to break cover. He was radiating disapproval so hard he glowed.

  'Yeah, we're fine, Bathyllus. At least, I am.' I was patting Perilla on the back while she choked into my tunic. 'Behave yourself, lady, you're upsetting the staff.'

  'Meton says dinner will be served shortly.' Bristle, bristle: Bathyllus didn't even look at Perilla. 'If you're both ready, of course.'

  'Whenever he likes. Oh, and tell Alexis to keep his pal with the beak under wraps when we have guests in future, right?'

  'Yes, sir.' He left. I could hear his sniff all the way to the kitchen.

  Perilla had finally come up for air. She was bright red, but at least she could breathe now. We settled down on the couch with my arm comfortably round her shoulders.

  'I think you've just seriously undermined the empire, lady,' I said. 'Sleep with a knife under your pillow tonight.'

  'Nonsense.' She kissed me. 'Anyway, I feel better for that. How was your day?'

  'Pretty good, for a change.' I told her about Tiny. 'One gets you ten Smaragdus used him to shift the Baker, and in that case he knows where it's stashed. My only problem now is tracking him down.'

  'And getting him to tell you.' Perilla frowned. 'From what you say about this man I don't think you can count on that, Marcus.'

  Yeah. I'd made that jump myself. With the best will in the world, the guy was still an idiot. Even if I did find him there was no guarantee I could even make him understand what I wanted. Still, with Smaragdus dead he was the only lead we'd got to the Baker, and without him we could wait another hundred years before it surfaced again. If it ever did.

  There was another reason for finding Tiny, too: if I didn't, then sooner or later the opposition would. And when he got the guy into that damned cellar of his, wherever it was, I couldn't see Prince Charming asking nicely.

  'So.' Perilla snuggled down 'What are your immediate plans?'

  I filled my cup one-armed. 'We wait. There's nothing else we can do. I've got half Athens and the Piraeus on the payroll, and barring some sort of break we'll just have to hope they come through.'

  Someone coughed. Bathyllus.

  'I'm sorry to disturb you, sir. Madam. Meton reports a crisis. Dinner will be delayed.'

  I sighed. A crisis in Meton's book was anything from a full-scale Parthian invasion with four legions massacred to the sauce curdling, in that ascending order. 'Okay, little guy. Just top up the wine jug and we'll sit it out in here.'

  'Very well, sir.'

  Perilla stayed quiet until he'd oozed off to the kitchen. Then she said: 'Of course, if you're not too concerned about the wine we could always look for a suitable knife.'

  'Knife?'

  'To put under the pillow.'

  Uh-huh. I know when I'm being propositioned. We went upstairs.

  We made love slowly while the crisis in the kitchen was resolved. When we'd finished Perilla nestled into the hollow of my shoulder.

  'I never asked you,' she said. 'Why the perfume?'

  Uh-oh. 'What perfume's that?'

  'The bottle you brought me yesterday. What was it for?'

  'Nothing in particular. It just seemed a good idea at the time.'

  'Really?' I felt her smile. 'I thought it might be an indication of guilt or something.'

  'Guilt?'

  'I did say "or something".' She reached up and kissed me. 'Not that I'm prying, you understand. I'm just curious.'

  'Yeah.'

  A pause.

  'Euelpida was saying that Aristoboulus has taken to staying out late. Some sort of work party at the Lyceum, or so he told her. She was quite concerned.'

  'Is that so, now? And what did you say?'

  'I told her not to be a fool.'

  I laughed and planted a smacker on top of her grin. 'You want to get dressed? Or should we scandalise Bathyllus some more and go as we are?'

  'I'll get dressed, thank you. If you'll let me up.'

  I did, eventually. When we got downstairs the crisis was unresolved and there was a woman waiting for me in the hall. 'Woman', not 'lady': Bathyllus is a complete snob over things like that. Sometimes I despair.

  'She give a name, little guy?' I said.

  'No, sir.' A sniff. 'But she said you'd know her when you saw her.'

  'Yeah? What's she like?'

  'Young. Quite good-looking, sir. In a common sort of way. Oh, and she speaks Latin.'

  Cotile; it had to be Cotile. What the hell was she doing here?

  Perilla was looking at me. I swallowed. 'Ah...you want to join us, lady?' I said.

  She shook her head and smiled. 'No.'

  'Fine.' I turned to the hovering Bathyllus. 'I'll be in the study, Bathyllus. Bring a few lamps and show the lady in.'

  It was Cotile, all right. She was nervous as hell.

  'Valerius Corvinus,' she said, 'I had to come. I'm sorry.'

  'That's okay. No problem.' I pulled up the desk chair and sat her in it. 'You want some wine?'

  'No. No, thank you.'

  'Have some anyway.' I poured two cups from the jug Bathyllus had left, put one into her hand and took the other over to the reading couch. 'How did you find me?'

  'It wasn't difficult. There aren't many purple-stripers in Athens.' We were speaking Latin, and she used the idiomatic word. 'And I'm...off at present.'

  'Hermippe let you leave the Scallop?'

  'We aren't prisoners. Although we're usually expected to ask permission.'

  'Did you?'

  She hesitated. 'No. No, I didn't.'

  Uh-huh. 'You know I talked to Demetriacus yesterday?'

  'Yes. Cleo told me. That's why I'm here.' She gulped at her wine. 'You haven't found your friend?'

  'Melanthus? No, not yet.' I paused. 'You know where he is?'

  'No.' She looked at me in astonishment. 'Why should I?'

  'I just assumed...'

  'I told you. I don't know anything about him. Or no more than I've already said.'

  'He's not in the building? Hiding out?'

  'I don't know. He could be, I suppose. Hermippe and Demetriacus have their own private quarters in a separate part of the house. We girls aren't allowed in there.'

  Now that was an interesting tidbit; and I wondered if that was "quarters" singular or "quarters" plural. If Demetriacus and his manageress were an item it might explain a lot.

  'Okay,' I said. 'So why did you come?'

  'To tell you what I was going to say when Antaeus interrupted us.' She hesitated. 'When Melanthus left Anthe she thought he might have gone down for a chat with Demetriacus.'

  'He what?' I sat back.

  'Anthe doesn't know for certain, of course. But he often did. They were good friends.' She must've noticed the expression on my face because her eyes widened. 'Demetriacus didn't mention it?'

  'No. No, he didn't.' Mention it, hell: he'd specifically said he didn't know the guy. If Cotile was right he was lying through his teeth. And that was interesting. 'You say they were friends?'

  'Demetriacus is interested in philosophy. And he wants very badly to be an Athenian gentleman.'

  I nodded slowly. That figured: it would explain the careful Greek, for a start. 'An Athenian gentleman? You mean he isn't from Athens originally?' Callippus had said he was an incomer, of course, but like I said that meant next to nothing. The word was a technical term, and always had been.

  'No. He's a Cypriot. From Paphos.'

  I stared at her. Oh, Jupiter! Jupiter Best and Greatest! 'Demetriacus is a Paphian?'

  'Of course. That's why he chose the Scallop's name, for the Paphos connection. He came here about ten years ago and bought the house from Melanthus.'

  'Wait a minute.' My brain was spinning. 'Melanthus used to own the Scallop?'

  Cotile nodded. 'Anthe didn't know the man's name
, but yes. He inherited the property from an uncle. He told Anthe the first time he was with her that the room they were in used to be the old man's study. He found the changes she'd made quite...amusing.' She paused. 'Corvinus, I hope I've done right coming here. Only Anthe is fond of Melanthus. She'd want me to help find him.'

  'Yeah. Yeah, sure.' I sipped my wine uncomfortably. 'You won't get into trouble over this, will you?'

  'If I'm asked I'll say I was visiting one of our old girls. She's married to an oil-shipper and she lives not far from here. She'll cover for me if necessary.'

  'Fine.' I took a gold piece out of my purse. 'This is...'

  'No. No money.' Cotile got up. 'I hope it helps, that's all.'

  I saw her out.

  I hope it helps.

  Gods!

  27.

  I sent Cotile back in the carriage and went into the dining room where dinner was, finally, being served. Perilla had already started.

  'Well, Corvinus?' she said. 'Has your girlfriend gone?'

  'Uh...yeah.' I settled down beside her and held up my cup for Bathyllus to fill. The little guy was still quietly bristling: Bathyllus has standards, and he expects you to keep to them. Good-looking young women turning up unescorted and soliciting private interviews with the master during the hours of darkness come within the Prohibited category. 'Lysias is driving her back to the Scallop.'

  'The Scallop?'

  'Aphrodite's Scallop.' I helped myself to kidney beans in fennel. 'It's a...er...property near Ptolemy's Gym.'

  '"Property?"'

  'Lady, you're beginning to sound like Nestor. Cut it out, okay? You know very well what I mean.'

  She ducked her head and kissed me. 'Yes, of course I do. I'm sorry. What did the girl have to say?'

  'Her name's Cotile.' I gave her the background, minus some of the physical description and without mentioning Cleo at all: honesty in a marriage is one thing, but you can take it too far. Even so, Bathyllus left in the huff half way through.

  'So you think this Demetriacus is involved with Melanthus?' Perilla dipped a chicken wing in the almond sauce.

  'To the eyeballs. And why should he be so careful to deny a connection if there wasn't something fishy going on?'

 

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