David Wishart - The Lydian Baker

'That still doesn't make sense, Perilla. We keep coming back to the fact that Melanthus — or Eutyches, anyway — already had the statue. He was home and dry, Smaragdus was out in the cold and there was no reason for Melanthus to talk to him. Unless…' I stopped.

'Marcus? What's wrong?'

Oh, Jupiter! Jupiter Best and Greatest! There was only one unless that I could see, but that was a beaut. And it explained everything: why Smaragdus had left his digs before Argaius had died, how Harpalus had known the Baker was gone, and what had happened at the beach hut.

'Marcus?' Perilla tugged at my sleeve.

I glanced up at the sun. Hell. It was too late, now, for another trip to the Piraeus, and anyway if I stood Meton up again the guy would poison the soufflé. It would have to be tomorrow, early. 'Uh…sorry, lady. I was wool-gathering.'

'Nonsense. You've thought of something, haven't you?'

'Yeah.' I took a contented swallow of wine. 'I know now why Smaragdus was hiding out at the beach hut. And why Melanthus needed to talk to him.'

I stopped off at the Piraeus Gate coach rank in case Dida had turned up, but there was still no sign of him. This looked bad. Sure, it might be coincidence, but I reckoned that with Melanthus and his coachman both going missing at the same time a bit of paranoia was justified. However, there was nothing else I could do but repeat the promise to make it worth the guy's while to contact me and then head on down the Hamaxitos to the Piraeus and Harpalus's bird shop.

Behind the counter was a fat guy with dandruffy hair and a guano- specked tunic. Obviously the owner in person. So where was Harpalus? Forget simple paranoia. The way people were disappearing I must've had every god in the pantheon lined up against me.

'Good morning, lord.' The fat guy smiled greasily. 'How can I help you?'

'Harpalus around?' I said.

The smile faded to nothing. 'He's out. Private business.'

'Is that so?' I leaned on the counter between two disapproving cages of pigeons. Great. Even the stock was glaring at me. 'You happen to know where he's gone?'

'You're the Roman, right? The one who bought the parrot?'

'Nestor? Sure.'

'How's he settling in?'

The tone suggested that the guy knew all about Nestor's sunny disposition and couldn't have wished him a better home. Up yours, pal, I thought, and gave him my best smile.

'Very well, as it happens,' I said. 'In fact, he's one of the family already. Marvellous with children, and my white-haired old grandmother simply dotes on him. They talk together for hours.'

The guy gave me a stare like he wasn't sure whether I was serious or not. I smiled back and waited.

'Harpalus is burning that fancy friend of his,' he said at last. 'Over at the graveyard outside the City Gate.'

Yeah, I should've thought of the funeral. Harpalus would've collected Smaragdus yesterday evening and arranged the burning for today. Not that there was much left of Smaragdus to burn.

'The little bugger left me a note. Pinned it to the door.' The owner was glaring at me like he thought it was my fault. 'You can tell him from me he needn't bother coming back.'

'I'll do that, pal.' I paused. 'By the way, I can see now where the parrot gets his temperament from. And given the choice between the two of you I'd take him any time.'

That got me a grunt. I waved and left.

Okay, so it was back the way I'd come, up the Hamaxitos: the tombs lined the main road to town, and I'd probably passed him without noticing. I got into the carriage and gave Lysias his new orders.

A thread of smoke led me to the scrap of waste ground set well back from the road where the poorer Piraeans burned their dead. The funeral was over by the time I arrived. What there was of it. From the size of the ash- heap the pyre had been the cheapest going, and I'd have bet Harpalus was the only mourner. When I got out of the carriage he was washing the bones and stowing them in a plain clay urn. The undertaker and his men had already left.

'Hey, Harpalus,' I said.

He glanced up, then carried on with what he was doing.

'Leave me alone,' he said.

'I'm sorry.' I was. 'But we've got to talk.'

'You may have to. I don't.' He put the lid on the urn with a bang.

This was no time for indulging my finer feelings. 'Look, pal,' I said. 'It's either me or Eutyches's bunch. And that you wouldn't enjoy at all.'

'Just forget it.' He left the wine jar where it was and picked up the urn. 'Let me go.'

'Uh-uh.' I shook my head. 'You've got some explaining to do first. Like where you and Smaragdus stashed the Baker.'

He stared. 'You're mad. Eutyches already has the statue.'

'Oh, no he doesn't. He's still looking for it. Which is why Smaragdus died. And believe me, pal, you're next on his list.'

He must've been expecting that because his eyes didn't flicker.

'Look,’ he said, ‘I haven't the slightest idea where the Baker is. Now you can believe me or not, but just get the hell out of my life.'

Yeah, well, it might be the truth at that; but if Harpalus genuinely didn't know then Smaragdus had. I'd bet my entire wine cellar to a pickled mushroom on that.

'You won't have a life for me to get out of unless we talk now.' I pointed to the urn. 'That's all you'll get from Eutyches. And if you're on the level about not knowing then with nothing to trade it's a certainty.'

'You think I care?' I'd shaken him, though. Maybe he was telling the truth.

'Maybe so, maybe not. But you've got two options, and two only. One is to walk away from me in which case you're as dead as Smaragdus. The other is to go for a drive down to the harbour and let me arrange a passage for you on the first ship out to anywhere. Your choice. Only make it now.'

When he still didn't speak I turned and walked off in the direction of the road. I'd gone about five steps before he said quietly: 'Very well, Corvinus. You win.'

I waited for him to catch me up. When we got to the carriage I held the door open.

'Right,' I said. 'We can have our talk on the way. Climb aboard.'

'So. Smaragdus had got greedy and was pulling a fast one on his partner.' I stretched my legs out as we bumped along the Hamaxitos towards the town gate.

Harpalus nodded wearily. He'd set the urn on the seat beside him and was cradling it in the crook of his arm. 'I told him it was a mistake, but he wouldn't listen. And while Argaius was conducting the negotiations he went to the cave and moved the treasure elsewhere.'

'Just like that? He must've had help. He couldn't've managed the Baker on his own.'

A shrug. 'I don't know anything about help. I wasn't involved.'

'Come on, Harpalus!' I shifted irritably. 'You expect me to believe that?'

'It's the truth, and like I said, you can accept it or not. The idea was his. He didn't want me to know, either where the original cave was or where he'd moved the statue to. He said the less I knew about it the safer it was for both of us.'

'But when he moved the gold he was willing to trust a third party?' Gods, that made no sense at all! 'Who did he use?'

'I don't know that either.' He glanced at my expression. 'I'm not lying. I was to be the go-between. With the customer.'

'Eutyches?'

'Whoever. I only knew his cut-off.'

'A big guy?' I described Prince Charming. Harpalus nodded. 'You know his name?'

'No. He never told me. And I only knew Eutyches's from Smaragdus. Just the name, no more. In case he got in touch.'

Something was bugging me here; a question I should've asked long ago but hadn't because others had crowded it out. Maybe now was the time. 'Smaragdus and his partner had two customers. Eutyches and my stepfather. We've always been up front, Eutyches hasn't. So why should Smaragdus go for Eutyches?'