The Lydian Baker (Marcus Corvinus Book 4)

by David Wishart

  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.

  37.

  We were too late. The boat shed door was wide open, and there was a crowd outside. I took the last stretch at a run and pushed my way through. Inside, two men were standing over the huddled body of a third. I stopped and stared...

  The third was Glycus, and he was dead. Very dead; like he'd tried to stop a charging rhino with his bare hands and hadn't half made it.

  'What happened?' I asked Bessus. No point in asking the last member of our little group; Tiny couldn't've answered.

  Bessus's face was grey. 'He arrived half an hour ago, lord. There wasn't anything I could do alone, so I went for help. When I got back Tiny here had him in a bear-hug and it was all over bar the screams.'

  Holy gods. I looked at the big guy in awe: he was crying. Bessus had said before that Tiny wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, maybe flies were safe but he'd done a fair enough job on Glycus. We could've slid what he'd left of the bastard under the shed door and not worried about the clearance.

  'Why?' I said simply.

  Tiny didn't answer. He just held out something he'd been holding. Cradling. A small fat dog with a severed throat.

  I swallowed. Good sweet gods. Yeah, that would do it, okay, and with a bit left over: Glycon had signed his own death warrant and never known it. 'He wanted you to take him to the statue, right? And when you wouldn't he killed your dog to persuade you to change your mind.'

  Tiny gibbered something at me. The tears were streaming down his cheeks, and I didn't think they were for Prince Charming.

  'You know the man, lord?' Bessus said.

  I nodded. Antaeus had come in behind me. He was looking down at the corpse, his face expressionless.

  'That's Glycus, all right,' he said at last. 'It seems, sir, that you were worried about the wrong person.'

  'Yeah.' I'd seen enough, more than enough; I turned away. 'Let's get some fresh air, okay?'

  We went outside. So. Exit Prince Charming. I wasn't sorry. It couldn't've happened to a nicer killer.

  The crowd of gawpers shuffled aside to let us through. Gods, I hate these ghouls.

  'Somebody go for the Watch,' I said. 'Otherwise the show's over.'

  The crowd dispersed, slowly and reluctantly. Bessus was heaving the door to behind us. 'It wasn't Tiny's fault,' he said softly.

  'No.' I shook my head and tried to ignore the buzzing in my ears: reaction was setting in. 'No. I know that. Don't worry, I'll explain.'

  If you don't need me now, Valerius Corvinus, then I'll be getting back to the master,' Antaeus said. His face was stiff, but he still had the air of a perfect butler. 'I'll leave that...carrion for you to dispose of.'

  'Sure. Go ahead.' I sat down on a bollard and took a deep breath. 'Tell him thanks, okay?'

  'Of course.' Antaeus gave me his best butler's bow and walked back to the coach.

  We waited in silence for the local Watch officers to turn up. Tiny didn't join us. He sat apart, still cradling his dog. Every now and again he stroked it. Finally I went over to him.

  'You want us to bury her for you, pal?' I said quietly.

  He looked at me. One big hand touched my cheek. Then he shook his head, got up and shambled towards the harbour gates. I didn't try to stop him. I doubt if I could've, anyway.

  It took half an hour for the Watch rep to arrive: not the boss, of course, just a young squaddie barely out of his teens. I led him inside, showed him Glycus and watched him lose his breakfast.

  'Send a message to Callippus at Watch Headquarters in the City,' I said when we were outside again and he'd asked Bessus and me all the usual questions. 'He'll want to know.'

  'Yes, lord.' The kid hesitated. 'And the man responsible? This Tiny? We'll need to talk to him. Purely a formality.'

  'Sure.' I felt tired; well, they could try, anyway. 'Talk to him all you like when he gets back. He's off burying a dog.'

  'A dog?' The squaddie's eyes widened, and he glanced quickly at the boat shed door. 'Zeus in glory! He squeezes someone to death then goes off to bury a dog?'

  'Believe it.'

  The guy obviously didn't, but he straightened. 'Very well, lord. If you'll take the responsibility.'

  I sighed. 'Yeah. No hassle.'

  'Fine. I'll send a cart for the remains. It shouldn't take long.' He looked again at the boat shed. 'You say he was a freedman. His ex-master will have to be informed, too.'

  'Make that ex-mistress, friend. In both senses of the word. And frankly I don't think she'll want to know.' He was staring at me. 'Her name's Hermippe. Tell that to Callippus as well. He knows where to find her.'

  There was a question in the squaddie's eyes, but he didn't ask it. He just gave me a salute, turned and left.

  . . .

  Tiny must've been laying low somewhere watching for him to go. He'd evidently buried the dog because when he came along the quayside towards us his hands were empty.

  'You okay, pal?' I said softly.

  He didn't answer, not even a grunt. He didn't stop, either. His right hand reached out in mid-stride and gripped my wrist. Hard. My spine turned to ice. I tugged. Nothing. I might as well have tried shifting the boat shed.

  'Tiny!' Bessus had been kicking his heels a few yards off. Now he rushed over, but he stopped short before he reached us. A wise move: the big guy could've swatted him away with his free hand as easily as an over-troublesome gnat.

  I looked down at Tiny's hand. Jupiter, he was strong! The fingers were wrapped all the way round, I knew I couldn't pull free, and if I was stupid enough to try I'd probably dislocate something. 'Uh...you care to let go, maybe?' I said, fighting to keep the panic out of my voice. Blank eyes stared back at me out of a dough-white face, and I felt the sweat break out on my forehead. 'Bessus! Do something, will you? I can't take this!'

  'Let the Roman go, Tiny,' Bessus's voice was shaking. 'He's a friend. And you've got yourself into enough trouble for one day.'

  The grip didn't slacken. Tiny gibbered a word or two and walked off towards the gates, dragging me along behind like a dog on a short lead.

  'I think he wants you to go somewhere with him, lord,' Bessus said.

  'Yeah.' I tried to keep my voice level. 'I'd sort of worked that out for myself, friend. But there isn't a lot I can do about it at the moment.' I hadn't been kidding about not being able to take this, either: being hauled along to the gods knew where by a madman three times as strong as I was was worse than my worst nightmare, and I was close to yammering already.

  'You want me to get help?' Bessus was almost running to keep up with us, and for all the attention Tiny was paying either of us we could've been talking Parthian.

  'Uh-uh.' My voice shook; help, nothing: it would've been like trying to hold back an elephant with a cobweb. I was on my own here, and what nerve I had was just about all used up. I gave it one last shot before I went over the edge of sanity into a screaming fit. 'Okay, Tiny,' I said carefully. 'I'll come. Just let go of me, will you? I'm a big boy now, I can walk on my own.'

  Mercifully, the fingers opened. I fell back, breathing hard and clutching my wrist. Tiny stood waiting while I rubbed the numbness away.

  'You feel like tagging along?' I said to Bessus. I tried to make it sound casual but my voice was shaking too much to be convincing.

  'Perhaps I'd better.' Bessus's face was the colour of whey. 'He's never done this before. And after what's happened...'

  He didn't finish, because Tiny had reached over and gently pushed him away. The message was clear enough: three was a crowd. Shit. I didn't like this, I didn't like it at all, even though I thought I knew where the big guy wanted to take me. Climax to the case or not, at that precise moment given the choice between finally getting my hands on the Baker and walking home barefoot I’d have opted for the hike.

&nbs
p; Given the choice. But then I didn't have a choice. All I could do was hang in and make the best of things.

  'Okay, Tiny,' I said, and prayed I didn't sound as scared as I felt. 'No hassle. Message understood. So let's go.'

  Bessus stood aside. 'You want me to tell the Watch?' he murmured.

  'No.' I shook my head. If the kid I'd just met was an example of the Piraeus's finest then there wasn't a lot of point. And I'd be safe enough physically; at least I thought I would, and for sanity's sake I had to keep on thinking so. 'I'll see you around.'

  He didn't look convinced. That made two of us.

  We left the harbour precinct and headed off in the direction of Zea Theatre. Tiny kept a pace or two in front, looking back over his shoulder to make sure I was still following. Then he took a left towards the high ground of Acte. We hit the lower slopes and Tiny suddenly veered east towards the coast. Uh-huh, so we weren't headed for Smaragdus's backup cave after all, which would've been one possibility; he was taking me to the beach hut. It still had to be the Baker, though, because there wasn't anything else out this way, and I began to feel the first prickles of excitement as we left the road and crossed the broken ground leading to the shore.

  The Alcyone was still beached in the cove: Jupiter knew why it hadn't been stolen, but maybe no one had noticed it yet. Tiny didn't even break stride. He hauled it down to the water easy as a kid launching a toy yacht, got aboard and sat down.

  Journey's end, evidently. Or the first part of the journey, at least. I stopped, and swallowed. Hell’s teeth; I'd been afraid this might happen. The trip across the gulf with Smaragdus had been bad enough, but taking to the open sea alone with a mad gorilla who'd just popped a guy's ribs for him was the stuff bad dreams are made of.

  'Uh...can you handle one of these things, pal?' I said. 'Only I'm telling you now that I don't know a lee shore from a hawser, and I swim like a ton of concrete. These may be problems.'

  Tiny gibbered and beckoned. Yeah, well, there went the excuse. I gritted my teeth and started to wade through the shallows...

  'Corvinus! Valerius Corvinus! Sir!'

  I spun round. A figure had just breasted the skyline, holding its side like it had a stitch. Oh, good sweet Jupiter, I didn't believe it!