by Eric Mayer
“You are not alone either, are you?”
Matthew answered the question with one of his own. “How did you guess my identity?”
“At the palace one develops a sense for imposters. Besides, do you really think you could follow me around the city without my glimpsing you?”
“I see. Well, I can’t say I wasn’t warned about your skills. It is easy to become overconfident and careless spending months in a place full of blind hayseeds.”
“Blind and corrupt hayseeds, you mean.”
Matthew laughed unpleasantly.
John had positioned himself near one of Zeus’ gargantuan feet, some distance from the entrance and facing it, ready to retreat out the back of the temple if any of Matthew’s possible assistants arrived. “Were you loitering outside Leonidas’ house because I had visited him, or because you suspected him of wrongdoing?”
“Both. After sharing a few drinks at a tavern, one of your friend’s colleagues revealed Leonidas’ little collecting hobby. He of course considered it just a harmless amusement.”
“You were investigating Leonidas because you knew I was an old friend?”
“You’d be surprised what I know about you, my former Lord Chamberlain.”
“You can’t learn much by pretending to be a guide for visitors.”
“Not so. It gives me a reason to be out and about and to be curious about matters, if anyone gets suspicious. I say I’m just trying to find a little local color, interesting events, that kind of thing. I’m planning on writing an account of my travels, you see.”
“A believable fable,” John admitted.
“Oh, but I am going to write a travel book. I plan to spend my retirement writing. It’s remarkable the places I’ve visited, what I’ve learned, working for the emperor.”
“I don’t know how much you’ve uncovered about the local situation but apparently not enough to start arresting anyone. I can give you information you may not have, but in return, I want assurance that the proper authorities will be given evidence I have relating to two murders.”
“In Megara the City Defender is the proper authority,” Matthew pointed out.
“I don’t trust him to act in the interests of justice.”
“I wouldn’t be too certain about that. Currently he pleases the provincial governor by turning a blind eye to corruption. But if the governor is dismissed, the man responsible for bringing order to Megara might well be next in line for the position.”
“Nevertheless, I need to be backed by imperial authority.”
“Granted, provided you can tell me something useful.”
“Thank you. I will explain everything to you on the way to Saint Stephen’s Monastery.”
***
Stephen showed John and Matthew into the abbot’s study.
Alexis, startled and annoyed by the interruption, fussed nervously with the manuscripts littering his desk, as if he were unable to quite wake up from his deep studies. “From the emperor, you say? I am honored. If I can serve the emperor in any way I shall be pleased to do so.”
Stephen began to leave but John gestured for him to remain. “This affects you also. If it were not for your help we would not be here.”
The young monk’s expression was so rigidly bland John wondered if he were suppressing a smile.
“So, John, my friend,” Alexis leaned forward across untidy heaps of parchment, “I assume you have not brought Matthew to hear a lecture about ancient pagan religions.”
“Not exactly.”
Alexis had now composed himself. Suddenly the puzzling gap between young Alexis, the prankster, and Alexis the abbot closed and John saw sitting in front of him the same young man who would say or do something utterly outrageous and then smile placidly as if nothing noteworthy had happened at all. The garments Alexis wore, the cross on the wall, the obscure literature, all were part of an elaborate joke. Or was John being unfair?
“Not exactly?” Alexis looked puzzled.
Matthew broke in. “I’m not here for a lecture but I want to know about your involvement with this supposed treasure.”
“If John told you about that, he must have explained it’s nothing but a legend.”
John spoke sharply. “If you believed that, Alexis, why was it arranged for Diocles to put slaves to work digging for it?”
“Diocles? I didn’t—”
“You’ve lied to me enough already. Don’t lie again. You admitted your plan was to get possession of my family’s farm.”
A look of sorrow crossed Alexis’ face. “You’ve been away so long, my friend, you have forgotten who I am.”
“I don’t think so, Alexis. On the contrary, I was wrong in imagining you had changed.”
“And who is it has tried to help you and your family? The only person in Megara who has sided with you? Still, I cannot regret doing what a good Christian should have done. It would have been better for everyone if you had never returned, John.”
“Particularly for my family. It was not my choice to come back to Megara!”
Despite the angry retort John realized Alexis was right. He had been correct to avoid his past for so many years, a past he had been severed from forcibly and irrevocably. Now he had grievously if inadvertently injured both of his oldest friends.
And the worst damage was yet to come. Perhaps he should leave matters as they were. Why would he want to avenge Theophilus? He’d wanted to kill the bastard himself.
“Stephen,” Alexis said, “light a lamp. I can barely see.” A confusion of long shadows had begun to crisscross the room.
Was the abbot delaying the discussion to give him time to think or trying to break the palpable tension?
It was true, Alexis’ eyesight was not good. Bad enough to mistake John’s stepfather for John at night.
“You surmised the valuables rescued from Corinth were buried at the temple from the contemporary account written on the parchment which Theophilus stole from your collection,” John said, determined to say what he wished he didn’t need to say. “My stepfather was here often enough and you are careless. One night you went out, in part to see how the excavation was going, but also intending to foment rumors about pagan worship on my estate by leaving a basket associated with the rites of Demeter. You’ve spent years studying such matters so you knew how it should look and indeed described that very thing to me.” John’s gesture took in the manuscripts and the scrolls and codices on shelves and in baskets.
“Why do you insist I engaged Diocles to arrange for digging at the temple? Isn’t it just as likely Theophilus did it since he knew where to look?”
“But Theophilus did not put a knife in his own back when he mistook himself for me, Alexis.”
The abbot had been leaning forward into the dim light. Now he fell back into his chair, vanishing into shadow, his expression hidden. “You are accusing me of trying to murder you?”
“Of murdering Theophilus. It was an impulse. You always acted on impulse. There I was, the one thing that stood between you and the treasure, between you and the post of bishop. Or so you imagined with your terrible eyesight. I’m certain you regretted your action immediately but it was too late.”
“John, I can’t believe…I always thought you were a rational young man. Perhaps the life you’ve lived…” His words trailed off into the shadow engulfing him and he might not have been there at all.
“The temple and the blacksmith’s forge are not far from the monastery, meaning both are easily accessible to you in the dark. You must have quarreled with Diocles over the excavations. It’s occurred to me that since I relieved him of his duties he could no longer assist you. He was desperate. Had he sent for you, looking for a bribe to refrain from exposing you to the City Defender?”
“It all sounds so plausible, John, especially considering how I intended to take advantage of your
mother’s infirmity, may the Lord forgive me. And, yes, I do admit I wanted the hoard, but as for the rest, I swear I am innocent.”
A hazy cross of light slid around the wall and came to rest on the ceiling above Alexis’ desk. It reminded John of the description of the angel Peter dreamt had guarded him in the pit and the strange lights resembling the Key of the Nile, Hypatia, a pagan, said she saw at the forge. This led John to think of the decorated basket left at the temple and from that to the strips of cloth tied in his mother’s hair.
Stephen sat the church-shaped lantern on the corner of the abbot’s desk and John could see his old friend’s haggard face, every age line accentuated by shadow,
“Yes, Alexis,” John said softly. “I realize now you are innocent.”
***
It was early morning when John knocked on Leonidas’ door. It had rained at last during the night, but the puddles he had walked through on the way from the City Defender’s office made no impression on him. Nor did he hear the waking sounds of the city or notice the smell of wet earth, encased as he was in a shell of regret and sorrow.
Helen ushered him inside with an expression of mixed fury and terror, as was only fitting, he thought. There was, this time, no slightest sign of welcome in Leonidas’ face.
“My friend,” John said. “I asked to be allowed to bring the news to you myself. Your son, Stephen, has been arrested for the murders of Theophilus and Diocles.”
Epilogue
After returning from Megara, John decided to sit for a while in the triclinium. It was raining again. Through the open windows he could smell the distinctive earthy odor parched land breathes out when it finally drinks in moisture. He could hear the rain tapping at the roof and noticed how the water, trickling down the wall from the leaking roof tiles in the corner did indeed cause the painted waterfall to sparkle realistically.
“What are you thinking about, John?” Cornelia sat down next to him.
“The misery I’ve caused my old friends. Leonidas is crushed to find out his son is a murderer. And Alexis, though he perhaps did not act illegally, will certainly be removed from his post because of his dishonesty regarding my mother and her will.”
“You didn’t ask to come here. You couldn’t turn your back on injustice. If there were any justice at the emperor’s court we would still be in Constantinople.”
John continued to stare at the artificial waterfall. “You see now, I was right in avoiding my past.”
“Let’s not argue over that. How did you come to realize Alexis was innocent? You told me when you got in that you’d been up all night talking with the City Defender and Justinian’s spy and I’m sure you’re tired of explaining it all, but I’m curious.”
John acceded to Cornelia’s wishes and marshaled his thoughts, pulling them away from his broodings. “All the circumstances that made it plausible for Alexis to be the murderer applied equally to Stephen. Enriching the monastery might lead to Alexis being promoted to bishop and it would also open up the position of abbot for Stephen. Stephen had easy access to the manuscripts in the library too. He shared some of Alexis’ knowledge of antiquities, the significance of pagan ceremonial baskets, for example. No doubt he read the account of the concealment of the Corinth treasure before Theophilus stole it. He knew as much as Alexis about what was going on at the monastery. Anything Alexis didn’t tell Stephen, as his constant shadow, Stephen would doubtless have overheard, given his penchant for eavesdropping. He would have known about my mother’s bequest to the monastery one way or another. Stephen had just as much opportunity to arrange for Diocles to dig at the temple when the overseer visited on business.
“As for the commission of the murders, quite apart from the fact that I could not see the Alexis I knew as a killer, how likely was it that he would be venturing out into the dark with his terrible eyesight, through fields with half-concealed pits?
“Most importantly there were two things pointing to Stephen’s presence at the scenes of the killings. The colored cloths tied to the basket at the temple and the cross-shaped lights that Peter saw while in the pit and recalled as a dream and what Hypatia saw at the forge. The cloth strips were like those Stephen gave my mother to tie in her hair. The strange light patterns were like those thrown by the church-shaped lantern Stephen used when I visited the monastery. Peter, being Christian, saw the lights as what they were meant to represent, while Hypatia, being Egyptian, identified them with the Key of the Nile, the ankh.”
“The ankh is more or less cross-shaped,” Cornelia agreed. “And we know Stephen was out the night Theophilus was killed because he rescued Peter from the pit. But what was he doing? Meeting Theophilus?”
“He ran into my stepfather by accident. Theophilus stole that document purporting to name the location of the treasure while he was at the monastery to do an odd job or on the pretense of visiting my mother. He returned to the estate to search. Stephen had only intended to leave a pagan ceremonial basket, perhaps to be found by Diocles’ excavators. It would certainly cause trouble one way or another.”
Cornelia frowned. “He intended to help inflame Megara against us even further, until we fled or were forced out?”
“That’s right. But when he came upon Theophilus he realized a corpse would endanger me more than the basket. And it would remove an unwanted competitor for the riches as well.”
“Then Stephen didn’t think he was killing you?”
“Not according to his confession.”
“He has already admitted to the murder?”
“To the murder of Diocles also, as soon as he was arrested. I believe he was eager to tell his story while I was a witness, rather than waiting for Georgios to interview him privately. In which case the questioning might be less civilized.”
“Did he say why he killed Diocles?” Cornelia asked.
“Yes, and it was more or less as I had guessed. It seems Diocles had gone to hide with Petrus after Lucian threw him out. He was working on illegal schemes with both tenants. But Petrus didn’t want him either. That left the overseer in a hopeless situation. Since I’d relieved him of his position he couldn’t continue his partnership with Stephen, using the estate slaves to dig at the temple. Stephen admitted he enlisted Diocles because he couldn’t conduct much of a search on his own. Why he thought Diocles would honor any agreement between the two had the hoard been located, I can’t say.
“Diocles asked Stephen to meet him at Petrus’ forge. He threatened to expose him unless Stephen gave him money. So Stephen, having already committed one murder, had no compunction about removing Diocles.”
Cornelia shook her head. “It is hard to believe that Alexis didn’t know what was going on right under his nose.”
“I have not only pointed out the murderer but also supplied enough information to the City Defender to dismantle a criminal conspiracy. My investigations are finished.”
“I’m glad to hear it, John. Will the City Defender actually prosecute anyone, aside from Stephen? He let the arsonist go.”
“That was before Justinian’s spy, Matthew, came forward. Georgios won’t try to cross the emperor.”
“Is there really enough evidence to bring all the criminals to justice?”
“As I told Georgios, part of my explanation is as flimsy as a spider’s web but remember, the size of the prey those webs catch and hold is out of all proportion to their substance. There is the freshly minted counterfeit coin found in Halmus’ secret warehouse, and the fact, as Peter realized, that Halmus was lying about his pilgrimages. No doubt his absences were for less than pious purposes. Diocles was dealing not only with Halmus, but with Petrus, Lucian, and my stepfather. Theophilus and Diocles cooperated in getting iron to Petrus and Lucian hid the illegal weapons the blacksmith made. Almost certainly the arsonists were armed with the products of Petrus’ forge. And the coin mold, concealed in a spot my stepfather would have known about, in
dicates he was involved in that endeavor also, and thus, further linked to Halmus.”
“There are enough connections to make a web, but a spider’s work can be beautiful in the morning, glittering with dew.”
“Not this web. And remember, Matthew has been busy too. I only stumbled over a few of the criminals while looking for a murderer. There are plenty of others in Megara who will be hearing knocks on their doors, including a certain seller of fish.”
“And what does it mean for us, John? Will the natives see us in a different light?”
“At least they won’t try to burn our house down or stone us in the streets.”
“We will need new tenants unless Philip plans to stay in his father’s house.”
John’s expression hardened. “I have told Philip to go. He cannot remain in my employment. I can’t trust him. He concealed his father’s illegal activities from me.”
Peter appeared in the doorway bearing honey cakes and wine. He hesitated as John looked up at him sharply.
“I asked Peter to bring us something to eat,” Cornelia explained.
“I’m glad you’re here, Peter,” John told him. “Please find Hypatia and bring her here.”
When Peter departed John pulled a scrap of parchment from the pouch at his belt and handed it to Cornelia. “This is the account of the treasure of Corinth that Theophilus stole from the monastery. Take a close look. You can see it is a palimpsest. Whoever wrote about the matter used an old bit of parchment from which the previous writing had been erased. But not eradicated completely. In a good light you can make out a legal term or two and in the corner, part of Justinian’s name. This sheet was probably from a copy of the emperor’s Institutes. Just a few years old, in other words. The document is not contemporary with Alaric’s sack of Corinth. It’s nothing more than a fraud, a prank. It has already killed two people.”
Cornelia held the document up to her eyes. “I can make out some of the words underneath, as you say. How were the others deceived?”
“Alexis is half-blind and Stephen, my stepfather, and Diocles were blinded by greed.”
