There had been no reason for this meeting to be held at the weather station. It was pure drama; Marcella Naevia was staying nearby at a respectable house with a woman who had befriended her. We escorted her back there safely. Although we probed, it was evident she knew nothing else material.
Still, we knew now that both Phineus and Polystratus had been present when Caesia took against being manhandled and when Valeria was killed. Both had athletics connections. Their missing teeth confirmed the violence in their past. Both would be at home in the palaestra. Both would be familiar with jumping weights.
We were about to see proof of their sporting careers. When we drove back to the party inn, the Sertorius children were larking about outside the main gate, with Gaius and Cornelius. The three boys had a ball, which they were kicking at the legs of anyone who came and went, pretending it was accidental. I was not in the mood for a discipline session. I helped Aulus deliver the cart to an ostler, hoping the trouble would have ended by the time we ran into the playfellows.
The boys saw us coming. Sertorius junior, Tiberius, gave the ball a great kick into the courtyard. They all ran inside. Tiberia was slower. As she turned to enter the building, two men arrived for the party. They were kitted out in very smart tunics, with luxurious braid at hem and neck; you could describe either as expensively dressed. One was Phineus, who held back, dealing with their donkey-cart. Polystratus, the other, had noticed the girl.
Tiberia was aware of him too. She jumped like a hare. She scuttled for the courtyard entrance. Polystratus swept a low bow as she passed him. Tiberia pressed herself against the far wall of the gatehouse, then ran faster as if she knew just what was coming. Polystratus straightened up abruptly, and patted her behind, grinning.
Tiberia stopped in her tracks and turned right around. 'Don't do that again, ever!' With set shoulders, she stalked off, no longer running.
Phineus had seen what happened. He said something that we could not hear. Polystratus must have retorted with an obscenity. Next moment, Phineus was yelling at him. Polystratus shrugged and turned away. Phineus flew at him and jumped him.
'Whey-hey!' Aulus and I set off towards the fight.
Marcella Naevia was right, we saw that now. they were both pankration contestants. It was ugly. Once they set to, any move was permissible. You cannot bite in pankration, but neither possessed front teeth and sucking is not disallowed. Otherwise, they wrestled, punched, stamped, kicked, squeezed, heaved each other upside down, threw each other, elbowed, kneed, and chopped. Phineus had both weight and bulk; Polystratus must have been one of the lighter, speedier fighters. Despite his paunch, he danced and shifted his feet nimbly, angling for a quick jerk off balance. Each took the punishment as if he felt no pain.
Whatever was going on, the partners had now seriously fallen out.
A crowd gathered quickly. Chefs, flowergirls, musicians, travellers all emerged from the inn, pushing and shoving for a viewpoint. Young Glaucus had found himself a long wand from somewhere; he tried to intervene like a judge. It was useless. Helena wriggled through the press to my side.
'When someone said there was a fight, I assumed it was you!'
'Such faith.'
We let them have their head for a time, hoping that would tire them. Eventually Aulus, Glaucus, and I moved in. 'Come on now. Break it up, you two!'
We jumped back. It was too dangerous.
Then, suddenly, the antagonists became aware of the spectators. Phineus broke first. He growled, a short irritated noise like an obstreperous lion. Polystratus was thoroughly worked up, but took the point reluctantly. Still tense, they stopped fighting. They made a few feints, all pretence but with an undercurrent. Then they shook hands, smiled at the crowd slyly and toothlessly, and strode off into the inn with their arms around each other's shoulders.
'Old sparring partners!' Phineus called back at us.
Polystratus gripped him, rather too hard, it seemed to me. 'Still testing each other, after all the years!'
'I don't think so,' murmured Young Glaucus to me. 'I don't think that was a bout for best of three throws, Falco. I have never seen such dirty tricks.'
'No. They both meant to kill if they could.'
Then as we all prepared to enter the inn for the party, Glaucus exclaimed with a little too much excitement. 'Let the Games begin!'
LXII
During our absence, the scene in the courtyard had changed for the better.
As the company flowed back indoors, we could see everyone was several drinks further along. The atmosphere had warmed up. Wreaths and garlands had been applied to curls and bald heads, then had listed, or slipped well down over one eye. Skirts had gaped open and the gaps had stayed unnoticed. Tight shoes had been tossed off.
A welcome blast of cooking smells greeted us. Spices sizzled in hot oil; steaming pots of broth wafted hints of delights to come. Overseeing the kitchen was Minas, who boomed encouragement to all. Red-faced from the cooking fires, he winked at me as I passed him, and whispered, 'I have guards standing ready. Once the villain is identified, he goes straight to the Areopagus.' For an instant I glimpsed the true lawyer in him. 'It is a long while since I conducted a murder trial. 'He was planning to enjoy it.
A whirl of guests swept between us. Next moment Minas was extolling the wine he had brought. From the numbers of amphorae now lined up against a wall, it seemed drink was available to us in naval quantities.
Helena grabbed her brother by the hand and pulled him temporarily from the melee. 'Now you take care, for once. Here is what I found for you in Plato's Symposium. It was agreed that drinking was not to be the order of the day, but that they were all to drink only so much as they pleased.'
Aulus eyed her askance.'Is my sister tipsy?'
'Hardly got going yet,' I said, shaking my head sadly.
My mind was on other things. Slipping away from them, I followed Phineus. He had been accosted by Cleonyma. I missed the start of their exchange, but overheard her saying, 'So he will keep doing what he does, and you will keep on after him!'
'Your husband was a sad loss,' Phineus told her, in a patronising tone. He had noticed me and was desperate to shut her up.
'Oh he was!' hissed Cleonyma. 'He was a fine man, who should not have died before his time.' Her voice acquired real venom. 'You stink, Phineus!'
She turned away, disgusted. Then Phineus fixed his main attention on Polystratus nearby, who had been watching. Phineus walked right up to him and once more muttered angrily. He seemed to be warning Polystratus about me. This time they were acting up, to look good. Phineus pointedly slapped his partner on both cheeks. It looked playful. It sounded painful. Phineus then let go, and jokingly straightened the ornamented neck of his partner's party tunic. It was the long dark red garment Polystratus had worn when he came to our house on the Aventine, the one that looked as if a theatrical king should wear it. Close to, there were worn threads, but from a distance it would impress strangers.
Polystratus laughed and walked off. I moved in and stopped Phineus, grabbing him by the upper arm. He had more muscles than I would have expected, had I not known about the pankration. I kept my voice low. 'Let me tell you what this looks like, Phineus.'
'Don't bother, Falco.'
'Cleonymus and Cleonyma suspected the truth, didn't they?' I remembered my conversation with Cleonymus on our walk up to Acrocorinth. 'He gave me a strong hint, if only I had recognised it earlier: he told me he wished that Cleonyma had bashed Polystratus. Other people have spoken out too. The picture builds slowly – but it begins to appear. I think your old crony has been threatening your business by unacceptable behaviour. I think you waste a lot of effort trying to deter him, Phineus. In short, I think Polystratus is a killer – and you know it!'
'You're seeing things that don't exist, Falco. Go to an eye doctor.'
'Your partner killed Valeria. He is the so-called expensively dressed man who killed Cleonymus. You sent him to Delphi, then you had second thoughts. You feared he might
harm Statianus, so you escaped from custody and ran off after him. Perhaps you went to Delphi, but you arrived too late. By then they were in Lebadeia, Phineus – where Polystratus committed yet another murder.'
'Such a good story,' Phineus crooned offensively. 'But not a hint of proof, is there?'
'I won't give up.'
'You don't even have a corpse, Falco.'
'The gods only know what Polystratus did with Statianus. But if we ever find any trace of that poor man – anything at all – your days of covering up will be over.'
I did not wait for Phineus to turn away from me; I left him. His contemptuous laugh behind me seemed to have a hollow ring. I hoped so.
My companions were gesturing me back to our table. We squashed up together on two couches. At a more refined dinner, each of these would serve for a solo male guest, but this party broke the rules in many ways. We had women and girls among us, for one thing. Minas kept making a point of this, carolling that he had invited all, as a gesture to Roman custom. His own womenfolk were trapped at home, presumably. Minas made a ghastly joke about our women possessing all the social skills of natural hetaerae; he gushingly praised them as dancers, singers, and conversationalists. To us it was embarrassing and, being frank Roman women, they derided him fairly openly.
Low tables had been set before the couches. Now waiters laid these with tempting starters. They brought baskets of bread to us, both brown barley rolls with a nutty taste, and soft white wheat loaves, luxurious but blander. The first course dishes of dainties followed in procession. savoury prawns, tiny roast birds, snails, crispy battered squid, mixed olive relish to eat on the bread with its oil dripping down our chins, almonds and walnuts, sweetbreads, herbed cabbage in honey vinegar. Unidentifiable things in hot pastry sat on the dish longest, but as the service was leisurely, even they went in time.
More wine flowed. It had improved in quality and quantity. Minas had treated us to a Nemean red, rich without being too heavy, clove-scented and appealing. We approached it suspiciously, but were quickly won over. The waiters were counting out eight measures of water to one, swirling them in a huge mixing bowl. At first the result seemed curious, soon it seemed just fine.
Travelling entertainers poked their heads in at the gatehouse. As they scampered in and began acrobatics, our existing musicians were fired up to jealousy. Soon every table was assailed by one or another set of persistent pluckers, tootlers, or bellydancers. We paid the newcomers to go away, then we had to pay the official players to stop sulking. They lined up cheerfully and threw themselves into what they thought Romans liked best: an endless selection of the bland numbers Nero composed for his 'winning' performances on his Greek Grand Tour. This would only happen in the provinces; no one in Rome ever plays Nero's tunes any more. Out here the ghastly ditties seemed firm favourites. Meandering measures bored on interminably; the musicians smiled like fanatics and kept going, even when we had all obviously stopped listening.
The tuneless imperial riffs formed a surreal backdrop, mingled with smoke from the now large bonfire on which cooks were about to roast a mighty shark. This had been donated by Phineus, a present to his clients at their farewell banquet in Greece. Hanging lamps and the firelight provided a warm glow. Polystratus, too, had contributed a main course dish. His donation came in a huge bronze cauldron, within which dark gravy gurgled round a salt pork stew. Alongside this, whole kids were on spits. Characteristic scents of Mediterranean herbs hit us. oregano, rosemary, sage, and celery seed.
While we waited for the next course to be brought, Helena leaned towards me. She indicated the letter Aulus had brought when he arrived.' Mother!'
I feigned delight. 'What does dear Julia Justa have to say?' Helena was silent. Fear struck me.'The children?'
Helena patted my hand. 'No, no. They are tearing the house apart and don't miss us.'
'Never?'
'Not much.'
'Well, I miss them.' Aulus wriggled closer, taking note of our conversation. He and his sister exchanged a glance. Aulus must know what the letter contained. I thought the worst. 'There is something you aren't telling me!'
Helena scowled. She seemed annoyed with me about something. 'This is just a letter about Forum news, of course. For instance, Marcus, Mother says the esteemed Rutilius Gallicus is returning to Rome after his stint as governor of Germany. I was acquainted with Gallicus – consul, law-giver, and fellow mediocre poet – and I certainly knew Germany. 'Everyone keeps secrets, don't they?' Helena's tone implied ominous significance. 'Tell me, Marcus darling – what exactly happened in the forest that time, when you and my brother Quintus crossed over the river into Germania Libera? When you shared an adventure that to this day, neither of you ever talks about?'
I had told her most of it. Not enough, perhaps. What happened was extremely dangerous. It had included a rebel prophetess called Veleda, whose effect on the then-young Camillus Justinus explained why neither of us had ever broken our silence back at home.
Helena reached out and poured herself more wine. She knew more about our escapade in Germany than she had ever acknowledged. 'Rutilius Gallicus has captured Veleda. He is bringing her in triumph to Rome.'
With a pang, I realised what that would mean to Justinus. He had never forgotten Veleda. First love had struck him hard. The prophetess had been foreign, exotic, powerful, and beautiful. The best thing about her was that none of us had ever expected to see her again…
I nodded to her brother. 'Aulus, let me guess. your mother is changing her instructions. She wants us to go home.'
LXIII
I had a feeling of failure which was hard to dispel. I set aside my wine; it was not helping. Minas was wrong about this evening achieving solutions. Any minute now we would be given the main course dishes. Then the serving tables would be cleared for fruit and cheeses. After that, everything would be over. There would be no drama. There would be no court case, come to that. The evening would drag on pointlessly until we were all half asleep, then I would assemble my own small group to ride back into Athens. Helena and I, perhaps with Aulus, would arrange to sail west as soon as possible. The Seven Sights party would travel east tomorrow, crimes unsolved, murderer at large, justice denied for ever.
I had come so close. Knowing the truth was not enough. I had to prove it. For once, vital evidence had never surfaced. For once, I could take the case no further.
Polystratus and Phineus were cooking their gifts themselves; Seven Sights always liked to save money. Phineus had his long sleeves rolled up, and was slicing the shark into belly steaks, using a great knife in a way that I found worrying. He doused the steaks in olive oil and herbs, then panfried them individually, as and when people wanted a cut. Restless as ever, Volcasius, the loner, had wandered up with his notebook and was studiously writing down the recipe. Then he badgered Polystratus for details of the salt pork stew, forcing him to list every roasted herb. 'Aniseed, cumin, fennel, thyme, coriander… The liquor is white wine, grape juice, and white wine vinegar. Honey is optional. Bread to thicken everything…' Volcasius peered into the cauldron curiously; Polystratus pushed him away.
At this stage, the waiters were serving barbecued kid and a couple of bream stuffed with soft cheese. In a province full of dozy waiters, these were the slowest ever. Half the time they just chatted to the musicians.
Indus came up. 'Well, we're all off tomorrow, Falco. Just wanted to thank you for your efforts. You're back to Rome, I hear?' Word flies around.
'Some of you are finding happy endings,' Helena told him, smiling as she thought about him running away from his mother.
As it was their farewell evening in Athens, he felt the need for pompous summing up. 'There have been a few tragedies, but most of us will feel ourselves the richer for our experiences.'
Sertorius Niger, passing, humphed. 'Waste of time and money!'
I had noticed that my nephews had sneaked off; I excused myself. Gaius and Cornelius were crouched under a serving table, heads together with young T
iberius. He saw me coming; ever the coward, once again he made himself scarce. Cornelius nudged Gaius. 'Show him, then!'
'Show me what?'
'I've got something for you,' Gaius announced. 'I had to trade with Tiberius. It took my hoplite helmet.'
'However did you get a hoplite helmet?' We had seen them on souvenir stalls, but they were bronze and cost a purseful.
Gaius winked. Always unhealthy, he had a sty. His mother would say I mistreated him. Well, she could have him back now and neglect him herself.
He stood up and surreptitiously slipped folded material into my hand; it looked disturbingly like one of his grubby loincloths. I felt something heavy and metallic. Cautiously, I investigated the bundle. The boys watched, hoping for praise.
Wrapped in the cloth was a jump weight, in the form of a wild boar. Made of bronze, with a worn old handgrip and a narrow top crest. 'Without the pair it has less value, I told Tiberius,' Gaius bantered professionally.
'You sound just like your grandfather.' Pa must have taught him. Sensing a revelation, my voice was faint. 'You know what we are looking at?'
'Yes, we saw the one Glaucus got for you at Olympia.'
'Gaius, I've had this weight ever since then. Have you been poking through my luggage?'
'Oh no, Uncle Marcus! Tiberius had this one. The killer must have kept it as a trophy, like you said.'
'This is the second one?'
'Tiberius doesn't realise what he'd got.'
'There was no need to do a swap. If you told me he had it, I could have dealt with Tiberius…' No member of the Didius family could miss bargaining, however. 'So, Gaius, where did Tiberius get it?'
'Oh it comes with complete provenance, Uncle Marcus,' Gaius assured me, still sounding as brazen as Pa. I raised an eyebrow. Gaius was a ghastly tyke, but good-natured under the weeping tattoos. 'I only parted with the helmet on condition he told me where he got this. Tiberius pinches things from the other travellers.' He would. 'He took it from some luggage that belongs to the odd man, Volcasius.'
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