David Wishart - The Lydian Baker

'Is that right?' Well, maybe it was the qef or Cleo's massage, or probably a combination of the two, but I felt really good, almost like I was flying. 'You stay here, okay?'

'Of course.' She half-sat on the divan and drew her beautiful legs under her. I took one last look. Gods alive! I must be crazy!

Crazy or not, it had to be done. I listened for a moment at the closed door, then opened it and slipped outside. There was no one around. It was lucky we were at the end of the corridor and I only had one direction to worry about. I put my ear to the unmarked door next to Cleo's. Nothing. I turned the handle…

Then I heard the sound of voices from downstairs: men's voices. I froze, ready to dive back into Cleo's room, but whoever it was must have crossed the hall and gone into one of the downstairs rooms because I heard a door close and then silence. I turned the knob again.

The door opened onto a broom closet. Shit. Talk about anticlimax. Well, if Antaeus caught me I could always say I'd had this uncontrollable urge to sweep the corridor. So. That left downstairs, which was a complete bummer. Added to which I didn't know where Antaeus parked himself when he wasn't doing his perfect butler act. On the other hand, there had been those voices, and although I hadn't heard them at all clearly I was pretty sure neither of them belonged to the jolly giant. It was just possible one of them was Melanthus's; but if so then I sure as hell wasn't going to find out shaking in my sandals up here.

I walked along the corridor as quietly as I could without sneaking: if Antaeus did come up I could tell him what I'd told Cleo, that I wanted a word with Dida outside.

The middle door on the right was marked for Anthe. I stopped. Cotile had said she'd gone to Corinth, which meant the room should be empty. And if Melanthus was hiding out in the Scallop then an empty room was well worth checking.

I listened, then tried the door. It was open. I pushed.

Anthe obviously had a thing about dried flower arrangements: the room was full of them, but otherwise it was uncluttered. The bed was made up. I went in and closed the door behind me. Then I checked the dressing table and the clothes chest. Lots of perfumes and cosmetics, but nothing else, and the only clothes in the chest were women's ones. What there was of them; Anthe was clearly the direct type. Well, it'd been worth a try. If Melanthus was here I doubted if he'd taken that much trouble over his cover; or if he had then I didn't want to know. Downstairs it had to be.

I stopped outside Hermippe's office at the top of the stairs. No sign of Antaeus. Hopefully he was off somewhere polishing his diphthongs. I could hear the voices again, muffled this time. They weren't coming from the salon but from behind one of the doors I'd tried earlier. Cautiously, I came down and put my ear to the panel…

'Can I help you, sir?'

I spun round. Bugger! Antaeus! The guy must have woollen feet!

'Uh…I just wanted a word with my coachman, friend,' I said. It didn't sound convincing even to me. 'He's waiting outside.'

'Indeed.'

'Yeah. So if you'll just excuse me…'

He didn't move. It was like finding that a stone wall had suddenly decided to get between you and where you wanted to be.

'Perhaps, Valerius Corvinus,' he said, 'if you're so interested in overhearing private conversations you would care to join in.'

'Uh, no, that's okay. I think I'll just — '

He reached over and took a grip my arm. Gently enough, but it would've been easier to get out of a vice. With his other hand he knocked at the door. The voices stopped.

Antaeus opened the door and guided me inside.

The place was another office, like Hermippe's, but plusher, almost a sitting-room, with two or three life-size bronzes and veneered marble panelling round the walls. Behind the desk was a little wizened guy, his bald head sticking up from an expensive-looking mantle with enough purple and gold thread on it to fit out a triumphal procession. As I came in the man sitting opposite with his back to me turned round…

I shook Antaeus's hand off. He stepped back and did a good imitation of a piece of decorative furniture.

'Well, well,' I said.

'What are you doing here, Corvinus?' Callippus asked. The guy wasn't too pleased, and it showed.

'I could ask you the same question, pal,' I said.

'I'm interviewing Demetriacus, of course. As I told you I would.'

'Fine.' I kept my voice level. 'Only somehow I got the impression you'd let me know when it happened.'

'That was my intention, although I don't recall extending a formal invitation.' Now he sounded peeved as hell. 'In any case, there wasn't time.'

'Fortunately the situation seems to have remedied itself, Commander,' the baldy in the fancy mantle said drily. 'Please sit down, Valerius Corvinus. Antaeus, a chair for our other guest.' I sat. Callippus didn't look at me. 'The fault was partly mine, I'm afraid. Naturally I came straight here as soon as Callippus's messenger arrived. I don't have the privilege of knowing Melanthus of Abdera personally, but I have heard of him, and the Scallop's reputation is very important to me. Accordingly if he has disappeared then I view it as a duty to help the authorities in every way I can.'

Uh-huh. Quite the little speech. I'd decided the moment I came in that I didn't like Demetriacus. With his round hairless head poking up from the starched edge of the mantle he could've passed for a shaved monkey: a very smart monkey who spoke careful, well-structured Greek. Too careful and well structured for my liking: something about it rang phoney, and I've never trusted guys who balance their clauses.

'Yeah. Yeah, sure,' I said. 'Very public-spirited of you.'

'Corvinus, if you insist on being present then I insist on civility!' Callippus snapped. 'This gentleman has left his sickbed to come here!'

'No, no, that's all right,' Demetriacus said. 'I can understand your friend's suspicions, especially since as you tell me he was attacked himself last night in our side alley. With no long-term ill effects, I hope?' He gave me a tight smile.

'I'm okay,' I said. 'Only…'

'Leave it!' Callippus muttered. Jupiter, the guy was annoyed. Seriously annoyed. Still, he was right, and I was here on sufferance. Putting backs up at this juncture wasn't going to get me anywhere.

Demetriacus had turned to Antaeus. 'Ask the Lady Hermippe to join us, please,' he said. 'And bring wine and a glass of boiled milk.' I must've let my shudder show, because he smiled at me again. 'The Commander wasn't exaggerating, Corvinus. Or only by a little. No wine for me at present, I'm afraid, and an invalid's diet.' Antaeus bowed and left. 'Now. Callippus has told me that Melanthus was here the evening of his disappearance. I can't confirm this personally but Hermippe can no doubt tell you one way or the other. However, he also says that the gentleman left the premises not long after he arrived.'

'Melanthus left the girl's room, sure,' I said. 'Whether he left the premises is another matter.'

'True.' The smooth pink face didn't change. 'That's a fair distinction, although again Hermippe should be able to tell us for certain whether or not it's valid in this instance.' He paused. 'Can I assume that you think it is? That Melanthus didn't leave the Scallop early after all?'

'It's a possibility. Yeah.'

Callippus stirred. 'Corvinus…'

'That's all right, Commander.' I still had Demetriacus's full attention. 'Let your friend speak his mind. Yes, again you're quite correct. It is certainly a possibility, in theory at least. And the logical implication underlying it is that you believe the disappearance took place here. That Melanthus had in fact been murdered.'

Well, that was direct enough. Callippus glared at me, although he didn't speak. 'No, I don't think that,' I said carefully. 'Or rather I don't think the guy's dead. I think he disappeared voluntarily.'