The Lydian Baker (Marcus Corvinus Book 4)

by David Wishart

  'Sure. And before you ask, it's definitely a home address because the guy went straight in.'

  'Uh-huh. Nice going, friend.' Well, one out of two wasn't bad. And I'd like a few words with Hercules, certainly.

  'You wanted us, master?'

  The insurance policy had turned up, grinning and fingering very serious damage limitation clauses. Evidently broom closets were more interesting places than I'd thought.

  'Sure, boys.' I jerked my head towards the carriage. 'In you get. We're going for a ride.' I doubted now that they'd be necessary – if the Ethiopian had wanted to put a permanent crease in my skull he could've done it the last time we'd met – but they looked so happy I didn't have the heart to send them back.

  I made sure I had my knife in its wrist sheath, though. Some things you don't take for granted.

  . . .

  The property near the Shrine of Hera was pretty upmarket, even for Colonus, which is out in the suburbs and one of the places the rich and good choose to build. Not in Demetriacus's league, of course, but a good solid detached house in a prosperous street, with a walled garden and a freshly- whitewashed front. We pulled up outside.

  'Wait here, Dida,' I said, getting out. 'You boys come with me. And no unauthorised moves. We don't want to annoy the neighbours. Clear?'

  'Clear, master,' the spokesman said. The guy looked disappointed, but they'd had their trip out and I couldn't be expected to provide all the entertainment.

  Okay. So here went nothing. I lifted the heavy bronze knocker and let it fall.

  The door was opened by a slave dressed in a smart blue tunic. His eyes widened when he saw the Heavenly Twins, but he bowed and stepped back into the lobby. I was impressed: I could've been paying a courtesy call on some grey-haired ex-archon. For that matter, maybe I was.

  'Come in, lord,' the slave murmured. 'The master is expecting you.'

  'Uh...he is?' That was news to me, unless the guy was an augur.

  'Yes, lord. If your name is Marcus Valerius Corvinus. He has been for several days now, I understand.'

  I blinked: somebody was crazy here, and I didn't think it was me. I waved the twins in ahead and stepped over the threshold.

  'You...uh...mind telling me your master's name?' I said. 'Just for the record?'

  The door slave's eyebrows rose several notches; well, from his point of view I suppose it did sound a pretty stupid question for an expected visitor to ask, but I was beyond caring.

  'Eutyches, lord,' he said.

  My jaw almost hit the fancy marble floor. 'Who?'

  'Eutyches.' He turned. 'He's in the garden at present. If you'd care to follow me, please.'

  I went in a dream. The slave led me through the portico into a walled garden at the back, where a little guy in a bright yellow tunic was sitting in the shade of a pear tree communing with nature. When he saw me coming he got up smiling and came towards me, his hand held out, and a huge chunk of the puzzle fell gently into place.

  'Eutyches'. Shit. Of course he was. How could I have been so stupid?

  31.

  'Felix,' I said.

  'How marvellous to see you again, sir.' He was beaming as we shook hands. 'You're looking terribly well. And Lamprus sends his best regards.'

  I turned to my two bodyguards. 'Okay, boys, holiday's over, I won't be needing you now. You can go back to the carriage and twiddle your thumbs.' They gave me a reproachful look and trooped back inside. 'Felix, you bastard, I've made a total mess of this business. Do you want to kick me round the garden, or should I do it myself?'

  'Oh, not a total mess, sir,' Felix said brightly. 'We can't function with one hundred per cent efficiency all the time. And you're here now. That's what matters.'

  'Yeah.' I had the feeling that that added up to something less than a compliment, but I didn't have the energy to work out the whys and wherefores. Also I deserved all the insults the guy could throw at me.

  We'd been followed out by a wine slave holding an ornate silver jug. Wordlessly, he poured out a cup and set it and the jug on the table beside me. At a nod from Felix he bowed and left.

  I pulled up a chair. 'How's your boss? Still waiting for the call and buffing up his winged sandals?'

  Felix's smile faded. 'Prince Gaius is very well. But as I think I told you last time we met certain jokes are in poor and very dangerous taste. Very dangerous taste indeed.'

  Yeah. I did remember that, now he came to mention it; but that was long ago, in another country, and besides the guy wasn't there to hear me bad- mouth him. Or at least I hoped he wasn't. I picked up the wine cup and took a swig...

  The wine slipped past my tonsils like velvet, giving them a warm hug and a kiss in passing.

  'You like it?' Felix was smiling again, at my expression this time. 'Imperial Caecuban, from the master's own store. He gave me a jar before I left Rome and told me that if our paths did happen to cross I was to welcome you properly.'

  'Uh-huh.' Well, maybe Gaius wasn't all that bad after all. He might be a dangerous, loopy, overbred bastard who suffered from delusions of grandeur, but he had style. I sat back and sipped contentedly. 'So. What have you been doing with yourself since we put the skids under Sejanus?'

  'Consolidating, sir. The emperor is failing fast. It can't be long before the master succeeds him.' That was all he knew: I reckoned it at about a month short of five years, give or take a few days, but I'd given the Wart my promise and I kept my mouth firmly shut. Where imperial secrets were concerned you didn't mess around, especially with this one. 'However, Prince Gaius sent me over here on a purely private matter.'

  'To bid against me for Priscus's statue.'

  'Quite, sir.'

  'I should've guessed it was you from the name you chose. Eutyches is just the Greek version of Felix. Both names mean "Lucky". That was intentional, wasn't it?'

  'Of course. If I may say so, sir, you really should have spotted that long ago. Mind you, it's not an uncommon name.'

  'Nevertheless. Did I mention the kicking?'

  'You did, sir.'

  'Fine.' I took another sip of the Caecuban. 'The name aside. Those snazzy tunics your Ethiopian pal wears. I was supposed to pick up on them as well, right?'

  'Memnon does tend to favour a more conservative style. He was quite difficult to persuade.'

  'Yeah. I see.' Jupiter, I'd been thick! Still, it was no use crying now. I'd had my chance, and I'd muffed it. 'You mind telling me why you bothered in the first place?'

  He smiled. 'A little game, sir. Rather a childish one, I admit, although I did hope you'd catch on to it. For obvious reasons when he sent me out on this business the master insisted on anonymity, but I thought since you were to be our competitor I'd give you a fighting chance all the same. And, naturally, myself an opportunity to renew an acquaintance which I found most stimulating.'

  'Yeah. Sure.' I wasn't impressed: where Felix is concerned I'm immune to flattery. 'So when Argaius was murdered and your line to the Baker went cold you put a tail on me in the hope that I'd find it for you.'

  'I have always had the utmost confidence in your detective ability, Valerius Corvinus,' Felix said primly. 'You know that. It was simply a matter of time. But you're wrong in one respect. Argaius's murder didn't affect me at all, not in the business sense. I had no dealings with Argaius whatsoever. In fact I never even met him.'

  I'd been picking up the wine jug to refill my cup. Now I put it down like it was made of glass. Everything went very still.

  'Run that one past me again, would you?' I said carefully.'

  'Of course. As far as Prince Gaius and I were concerned the seller was Smaragdus. He wrote directly to the master in his own name and without mentioning a partner. I'd assumed you knew that.'

  'Felix.' The back of my neck was prickling like hell. 'Let's get this clear. Smaragdus told me that Argaius handled the business side of things; that he – Smaragdus – wasn't involved; and that he – still Smaragdus – had never met you.'

  Another smile; broade
r this time. 'Then I'm afraid, sir, that he was lying.'

  I rubbed my forehead: my brain was starting to hurt. Sure, it was possible, if you looked at it from the other side: I'd never met Argaius myself, and the only evidence of the arrangement between the partners had come from Smaragdus. If what Felix said was true – and I didn't see why it shouldn't be – he had been planning his swindle from the beginning. But that meant...

  'Corvinus? Sir?' Felix was peering at me with a worried expression on his face. 'Are you all right?'

  'No,' I said. 'All right, pal, is the last thing I am. Look, I need to talk this through. Stop me if I go off beam, okay?'

  'Very well.'

  I took another swallow of the Caecuban first: I'd need all the help I could get here.

  'First off, Smaragdus writes to your boss claiming to own the Baker and offering to sell it, yes?'

  Felix nodded. 'Correct.'

  'At the same time he already knows – because Argaius is acting up front – that his partner has another deal cooking with me. However, he doesn't let on to him that he has a second customer in line. Gaius is private and personal, and he keeps him strictly under wraps.'

  'That I wouldn't know. But certainly Smaragdus represented himself as the statue's sole owner. Its sole owner. It wasn't until –'

  I held up my hand. 'Wait. Let's take things bit by bit, because I haven't got them straight myself yet and they're complicated, okay?'

  'Very well.' Felix was leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled. 'Go on, sir. Oh, you can't believe how much I'm enjoying this!'

  'Bully for you. Okay. Smaragdus has plans, private plans: he'll sell the Baker to Gaius behind Argaius's back with the intention of slipping off with the cash as soon as the deal goes through. Only then he thinks of a refinement. He'll move the Baker to another hiding place and pretend...' I stopped. 'No. That doesn't make sense.'

  'What doesn't make sense?'

  'I was going to say he'd pretend to Argaius that the statue had been stolen and so buy himself some extra time. But that wouldn't work now.' I scowled. 'Shit!'

  'Why not, sir? Surely as you say it would give him some leeway with his partner; and as far as bringing me to the statue was concerned one cave was as good as another.'

  One cave was as good as another. That was the second time that point had come up. There was something...

  'Corvinus?' Felix was looking faintly puzzled. 'Didn't you hear what I said? The fact that Smaragdus had moved the statue to a different hiding place wouldn't register with anyone but Argaius. However, if Smaragdus wanted to pretend it had been stolen then naturally moving it was essential.'

  'Yeah,' I said slowly. 'That was my original theory. But at the time I thought Argaius was dealing with you.'

  'So?'

  'Come on, Felix! Smaragdus had you set up as the villain. If Argaius didn't know you existed then he wouldn't have anyone to point the finger at.'

  Felix stared; I could see him working that one out. Then he said softly: 'You're right. Of course you are. Oh, well done, sir!'

  'Argaius wasn't stupid. Only he and Smaragdus knew the location of the cave. If Smaragdus had come to him and told him someone had robbed the pantry he would've put two and two together pretty fast. And yet we know that Smaragdus shifted the Baker before Argaius's death because otherwise his killer would've found it. So my question is, why did Smaragdus do it?'

  'Perhaps as a safeguard. He knew Argaius was dealing with you. The deal could have been formalised at any time, and Argaius would have got in first.'

  'Yeah, that's a possibility. But if so the guy was running one hell of a risk. All it would take was for Argaius to arrive and find the cupboard bare for the shit really to hit the shovel.' I frowned: the answer was there, if I could only get it. One cave would be as good as another... 'Ah, leave it for now. Maybe it'll come. You want to tell me more from your side?'

  'There isn't much more to tell.' Felix topped up my wine cup. 'I discovered – completely by accident – that Smaragdus normally worked with a partner. Naturally I was concerned, as I knew Prince Gaius would be, that the transaction was above board and this partner's rights were not in any way being infringed.'

  I grinned. 'Sure you were concerned!' I liked Felix, but that didn't blind me to the fact that the guy's ethical code had more holes in it than a cabbage-strainer; while Gaius wouldn't know what an ethic was if one jumped up and bit him. 'But you also wanted to make certain there'd be no comeback later if it turned out Smaragdus hadn't the sole right to sell.'

  'There was that aspect of the matter too, of course.' Felix looked pained and virtuous. 'In any case, having learned of Argaius's existence I sent Memnon to him to arrange a meeting.'

  Uh-huh. Memnon being my Ethiopian pal. This was all beginning to make sense.

  'Just that?' I said. 'Just a suggested meeting? You didn't mention the background details?'

  'I didn't think background details were necessary.' Felix paused. 'Or, in the circumstances, politic. If the sale turned out not to be wholly above board after all then the time for that fact to come out was when the two of us were face to face.'

  'And you arranged the meeting for Mounychia, right?'

  'Correct.'

  'Why Mounychia? That's out in the sticks even by Piraeus standards. At night, especially.'

  'A combination of business with pleasure, sir,' he said stiffly. 'There was a full moon that night, and I wanted to see the Shrine of Bendis by moonlight. It was most impressive, and well worth the effort.'

  'Uh, yeah.' Gods alive! Well, the little guy was entitled to his idiosyncrasies, I supposed, but that was pushing it. 'Still, you told me earlier you'd never met Argaius.'

  'I didn't meet him. He didn't turn up. Of course, now I realise why.'

  'Yeah.' I swallowed a reflective mouthful of Caecuban. 'Had you told Smaragdus about this meeting beforehand, by any chance?'

  Felix was no fool. There was a long silence before he answered.

  'Yes, sir, as a matter of fact I had. When I brought up with him the subject of his partner's existence. Naturally I asked him to pass the message on, although for obvious reasons I informed Argaius independently.'

  'Uh-huh. What did Smaragdus say when you told him you knew about Argaius?'

  'That he was fully empowered to conduct negotiations on behalf of his partner. He hadn't thought Argaius's direct involvement was necessary.'

  And I thought that I'd been stupid! 'Jupiter, Felix! And you believed him?'

  'Let's say I found it...politic, again, not to comment. But it did make a meeting between the three of us more imperative. Remember, as far as I was concerned the deal was already concluded.'

  'And Argaius didn't come. For obvious reasons. What about Smaragdus?'

  'No. I never saw him again.'

  The timing fitted. Sure it did. If his landlady was to be trusted Smaragdus had already packed his bags and lit out for the beach hut.

  We looked at each other. It was Felix who put the shared thought into words.

  'Smaragdus knew his partner was going to die, didn't he, sir?'

  I nodded slowly. 'Yeah. He knew, all right. He set it up.' Good sweet Jupiter! And I'd felt sorry for the murdering bastard!

  'There was one thing that puzzled me, even at the time.' Felix shifted in his chair. 'Smaragdus's desire to avoid Argaius I can understand. But why me? I was a committed purchaser, his best and only option, and as I said the bargain was made. Wouldn't it have been more sensible for Smaragdus to have come to the meeting, professed surprise at his partner's absence or made some excuse for it and brazened the matter out?'

  'Felix, pal.' I managed to keep my face straight, although it wasn't easy. 'You mean you wouldn't, honest citizen that you are, have called off the deal, at least temporarily while you checked with the authorities?'

  Felix smiled. 'Oh, I don't believe that would have been necessary. After all, as the single surviving partner Smaragdus would have had a perfect right to make the sale, wouldn't he?'<
br />
  'Yeah,' I said drily. 'In that case I see your point. Gaius must want the Baker pretty badly.'

  'It is a unique piece, Valerius Corvinus. And we had already gone to considerable trouble and expense to acquire it.'

  I took another swallow of wine. Well, I wouldn't really have expected anything else from that pair: Gaius was no Priscus, and although I was willing to stretch things I wouldn't put myself on a par with Felix, either. I reached for the wine jug...

  The itch at the back of my brain came back in full force. Only this time, suddenly, I knew what I'd been trying to tell myself ever since Felix had mentioned the cave. His best and only option...

  'Gods alive,' I murmured. 'It's beautiful.'

  'Sir?' Felix gave me a sharp look. I waved him down and sat back as the pieces of the puzzle slipped smoothly into place.

  '"His best and only option",' I said. 'Best maybe, but not only.'

  'You mean he considered selling the statue to you?'

  I shook my head. 'No, not to me. He had his chance to do that when we met, and he still took me to the wrong cave. I was the one prospect who was out of the running, because I'd have scruples. He could afford to drop me without a qualm because he still had two customers left.'

  'Two?'

  'Yeah.' I felt very tired; and, unaccountably, very sorry for Harpalus: the poor bastard hadn't known what he was in on, and it had killed him. 'You were one, potentially at least.'

  'And the other?'

  'The other was a guy called Demetriacus.'

  32.

  He'd had to be involved somewhere, sure, but I hadn't worked out where until now. However, with Smaragdus's scam clear in my mind for the first time – or at least reasonably clear in what passed for my mind – this was the only way that made sense.

  'Demetriacus?' Felix said.

  'You don't know about him?'

  'No, sir. A recent discovery of your own, I assume.'

  'I thought your guy Memnon was tailing me.'

  'Not lately, sir. I'd decided that the time had come for us to meet direct. I instructed Memnon to – shall we say – make himself obvious in the hope that you would find him at second hand, and so me. As indeed you did.'