David Wishart - The Lydian Baker

'You want to stop?' Dida said.

'No. That's okay. It isn't worth the effort. Just ignore him.'

'You're the boss.' I heard the shrug in Dida's voice and the flap closed.

I frowned as I settled back against the cushions. Yeah. I wondered about Felix. I wondered about him a lot.

Next morning I had Lysias drive me down early to Watch headquarters.

'You want me to wait this time, sir?' he said when we pulled up outside.

'No, that's okay.' I shook my head: a tail would be easier to spot — and lose, if I wanted to — on foot than in a carriage, and besides I was getting a definite case of coach traveller's gut. 'Just go straight back.'

Callippus hadn't shown up yet, but I was in no particular hurry: his secretary Critias was an okay guy when he didn't have to be monosyllabic, and he was good company. We chatted about the comedy that had been packing in the punters at Dionysus Theatre recently. I'd enjoyed it, Perilla hadn't: she likes plays with depth. Me, I've always thought that bastard Agamemnon had it coming.

Finally, around noon, the boss rolled in with a tall thin guy who could've stood in for Charon the Ferryman on a bad day. Callippus didn't look too cheerful either. Maybe it was catching.

'Hello, Corvinus,' he growled as he pushed past me into his office. 'Join us, will you? Critias, we'll need you too. Bring your pad.'

'Yes, sir.'

Ah, well, back to the monosyllables. I gave the guy a quick wink and followed him in. Callippus had ensconced himself behind his desk. The Laughing Skeleton and I took a chair each while Critias, as befitted a mere clerk, stood by the door, stylus poised.

'There've been further developments.' Callippus fixed me with a glare.

Uh-oh. Something told me I wasn't going to like this one bit. 'Is that so, now?' I said carefully.

'This gentleman' — he indicated the Gravedigger — 'is Lysimachus. He's a doctor, and he's here to make a formal statement.'

A doctor, eh? Well, I hadn't been far out with Charon at that. If his bedside manner wasn't cheerier than this I'd bet his patients died just to get rid of him.

Callippus's glare shifted to his new pal. 'Go ahead, sir,' he said. 'Critias, take this down.'

The guy cleared his throat with a sound like ashes shifting in an urn. 'Watch Commander Callippus approached me today with an enquiry concerning the condition of health of my patient Demetriacus son of Demetrius, citizen of this city, in the period from a date two days before the last of Elaphebolion to the third of Munychion, with special reference to the latter of those dates aforementioned. Said period being of this current year. Mmmum.'

I stared at him. Jupiter! The guy was worse than Priscus! And I'd never got the hang of the Athenian calendar. A lunar year that staggers around like a drunk in a gale is bad enough, but any society that counts forwards and backwards depending what third of the month you're in needs its communal head examining.

'Uh…what does that work out to in Roman, pal?' I said.

The guy gave me a look like he was weighing me up for a suppository.

Callippus sighed. 'The third of Munychion was the day Melanthus disappeared,' he said. 'And two days before the end of Elaphebolion was five days previous to that. Three days before the kalends of April, in case you'd forgotten. Happy?'

That was more like it. Juno's knickers, the guy was a real grouch this afternoon! 'Yeah,' I said. 'Sorry. Just checking.'

'Fine.' He turned back to Laughing Boy. 'Go on, sir.'

'Demetriacus has the misfortune to suffer from a chronic stomach ailment which is more severe at some times than others and gives him great pain. The period in question lay in such a time. I was able to inform the Watch Commander that my patient was confined to bed on my orders throughout said period, and it was only on the fifth of Munychion — that is two days after the third, Lord Corvinus, and so four days ago…'

'Yeah, I'd worked that out for myself. Thanks anyway.'

'…that he was recovered sufficiently to rise, and then only for part of the day.'

I frowned as I worked out what all that came to. Hell. I'd been right in thinking I wasn't going to like this. Lysimachus might've put it in a less fancy way, but the message was clear enough: the night Demetriacus was supposed to be having his friendly chat with Melanthus prior to slitting his throat he was bed-bound a mile off with a serious gut ache.

There went the case. No wonder Callippus was peeved.

'Ah…you're sure about this?' I said.

That got me another terminal glare. 'Quite sure.'

'Hundred-per-cent spit on your grandmother's grave and cross-your-heart sure? I mean, he couldn't've been putting it on?'

The glare went critical. 'Are you impugning my professional diagnosis of the patient's condition, sir? Or perhaps it is my veracity that is in question?'

Callippus had closed his eyes and his lips were moving like he was praying. Finally, he opened them again. 'Corvinus, just shut up, will you, please?' he said mildly. 'Have you got all that, Critias?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good.' He turned to the doctor. 'Lysimachus, I don't think we need detain you. If I have any further questions I'll be in touch. My thanks for your trouble.'

'No trouble at all.' The guy stood up. He was still glaring at me. 'Mmmum!'

'See the doctor to his carriage, Critias,' Callippus said. He waited until the door had closed and then rounded on me. 'Corvinus..!'

'Yeah, yeah, I know.' I held up a hand. 'I'm sorry. But the bastard's lying. Demetriacus must've bribed him.'

Callippus went through his praying routine again. 'Lysimachus of Cos is one of the best doctors in Athens, not to mention the richest. He does not lie. And he has no need for bribes.'

'That's all you know, pal.' Gods, I felt sick: if you believed Corpse-face the theory was well on its way right down the tube. I was almost sure he'd thrown us a wobbler, but still…

'Look, I'm as disappointed as you are,' Callippus was saying. 'But you cannot argue with the facts.'

If I had to go, I'd go fighting. 'What facts? The only "fact" here is that that po-faced quack has taken a back-hander big enough to buy him another block in Cydathenaeum.'

Callippus paused. 'How did you know Lysimachus speculated in property?' he said.

'I didn't, pal, but it doesn't surprise me. Scratch a doctor and you get a compulsive property developer. Back in Rome my father's freedman Sarpedon might own half the Velabrum and be able to buy me out twice over but the bastard still sucks up to patients with a spare acre or two.'

'Well.' Callippus rubbed his jaw. 'You may be right. Although if you remember when we talked to him Demetriacus did say that he'd been ill.'

'Sure he did. But what he didn't say was that the evening Melanthus did his disappearing act he'd been at home rolling around hugging his guts; in fact, he didn't say anything much at all apart from deny that he'd met the guy full stop. Because at that point he didn't know we had no real proof.'

'And he does now?'

'He's still walking free, isn't he?'

'Yes.' Callippus frowned at his desk. 'Yes, I suppose you're right.'

'Never mind.' I forced a grin, even if with my theory threatening to collapse round my ears I felt more like howling. 'Asking the doctor was a good idea, it just backfired, that's all. If Demetriacus is lying we'll nail him eventually. He's human, like the rest of us, and he must've slipped up somewhere.'

'Indeed.' Callippus didn't grin back, but his mood lifted a little. 'So. Any news your end?'

'Yeah. You could say that.' I told him about Felix. 'You know him, by the way? Professionally, I mean?'

'No. He's certainly not here in any sort of official capacity, which is understandable from what you tell me. You say your paths have crossed before?'