David Wishart - The Lydian Baker

Which brought me to Hermippe. That was none of my concern, but I'd hate to see the bitch escape scot-free. Sure, I'd no worries about Callippus: when he got my message he'd've put two and two together and come up with five. However, we were back to the original problem: simply knowing that Hermippe had been ultimately responsible for the killings might not be enough, especially since she was a woman. Callippus would have his work cut out to screw even a majority verdict from an all-male Athenian jury, and I'd bet a mouldy sprat against a barrel of Baian oysters that she'd only have to bat her beautiful eyes at the jurors and blame it all on Glycus to have them bring in a not-guilty verdict nem. con . And Glycus was already dead.

Hell, the whole thing had turned into a pig's breakfast. Yet again. Once, just once, I'd like to come out of an investigation knowing that it had done some good and the world was a better place as a result, with virtue rewarded and evil sent down the tube. It didn't look like that was going to happen this time, either. Maybe there was some mean-minded god up there who had it in for interfering smartasses. If so then he was really working his butt off.

I sighed and nodded to the slave with the oil and scraper. Bath over, time to face my public. Life might seem more cheerful once I had a good dinner and a pint or two of wine inside me, but I doubted it.

In the atrium, waiting for me, I found Callippus. 'Corvinus.' He was looking grave. 'I thought it best to come straight round and tell you the news myself.'

'Yeah?' I filled a winecup from the jug on the table. 'What news might that be?'

'I've just been at the Scallop. Hermippe's dead.'

I stared at him, the cup half way to my lips. 'What?'

'An accident.' His face was unreadable. 'Seemingly she fell downstairs and broke her neck.'

'Is that so, now?' Carefully, I filled another cup and handed it to him, waving him onto the guest couch. 'When did this happen, do you know?'

'Early this afternoon. Not long before I arrived, as a matter of fact.' He studied his wine. 'I'd received your message regarding…Glycus, was it?' — I nodded — 'from my Piraeus colleagues, and I thought a visit was in order. Demetriacus had just had her body carried to her room.'

'Demetriacus was there?'

'Yes. We had quite an interesting talk.'

'How about Antaeus?'

Callippus's eyes came up to meet mine. They were calm and level. 'Yes, Antaeus was there too. Freshly back from your Zea boat shed, I understand. He witnessed the accident, as did Demetriacus. There was nothing they could do.'

'Uh-huh.' I drank my wine. 'Convenient, right?'

'There will be no investigation.'

'That wasn't what I meant.'

'No, I do realise that.' He frowned and twisted the stem of the winecup in his hand. 'Hermippe died from natural causes. If you can call falling down a flight of stairs natural. Personally I'm willing to leave the matter there.'

'She died easy.'

'Perhaps. Let's be charitable and hope so. More easily than Glycus, and certainly much more easily than Argaius. Anyway, as of today the case is officially closed.' He set the wine down untasted. 'Now. Did you find the Baker?'

'Yes and no.' I told him what had happened. 'We'll take up the rest of the treasure in a day or so. By land, this time. No more risks.'

'Very wise.' He nodded. 'There's the question of legal ownership, of course, but I'm sure the authorities will take an enlightened view. Especially since you're willing to bid for the goods at public auction and give the city their percentage. And especially since your friend Felix is so…well-connected.'

'Yeah.' I downed a swallow of Setinian. 'Mind you, I'd hate to be in that bastard's shoes when he tells his boss. When Gaius gets the news he is not going to be a happy little Caesar.'

The front door banged. 'Marcus!' Perilla's voice.

'In here,' I shouted.

She came straight across the room, ignoring Callippus, and hugged me tightly. 'Marcus, I've been so worried!'

'It's okay, lady. It's finished. We won, sort of. If you can call it winning.' I kissed her.

'You found the statue?'

'Yeah. For what it's worth.'

'Marcus…'

I put a finger to her lips. 'I'll tell you later. You know Callippus?'

'Yes, of course.' She smiled at him. 'How is Damoclea?' Damoclea was Callippus's wife.

'She's well, Lady Perilla.' Callippus was on his feet. 'Corvinus, I'm sorry to rush off but I must be going. We'll meet again soon. For dinner, perhaps?'

'Yeah, that'd be great.'

I saw him out. Not a bad guy, Callippus, and he'd been right not to push things over Hermippe's death. Sometimes these things were best left to the family to settle.

Perilla was on the couch when I came back. I lay down beside her and put my arm round her shoulders.

'So.' She snuggled in. 'What happened?'

I told her. About the Baker, and about Hermippe.

'He killed her?' She stared at me incredulously. 'Her own brother?'

'Sure. Or had Antaeus do it for him.'

'But that's terrible!'

'It was the only way. And I always knew Demetriacus had a killing streak in him, where he had reason enough. Don't waste any tears on that bitch, Perilla. She had it coming, and considering how Smaragdus died maybe it was poetic justice.'

Bathyllus soft-shoed in to say dinner was ready. About time: I was starved.

'Also, sir,' he coughed, 'I'm afraid we've received a formal complaint from our neighbours.'

I sat up. This was serious: Diomea was a high-class area that kept itself to itself, and a formal complaint from a neighbour was tantamount to a major border incident. 'Yeah?'

Perilla put her hand to her mouth. 'Oh, I forgot to tell you. Nestor got loose this morning and strayed into next door's garden.'

Gods! 'The brute's wings are clipped, lady. How the hell can he "stray"?'

'He climbed up the fig tree on the back wall, sir, using his claws and beak.' That was Bathyllus, stiff as hell. 'It was quite an achievement.'

'I'll bet.' So. Strayed, nothing. I should've known better: the cunning bastard had planned the whole thing. 'Okay. So tell me what happened.'

'You know Leonidas's sister, sir? The maiden lady?'

'Melpomene?'

'Yes, sir.'

I groaned. Shit, no! Not that! Leonidas, of course, was our neighbour, something big on the local council. His sister Melpomene was a prim spinster of about fifty-five, over on a visit from Corinth. I closed my eyes. 'Go on, Bathyllus. Tell me the worst.'

'The lady was sunning herself in the garden at the time, so I understand. The parrot walked up to her and told her to…' Bathyllus stopped with a glance at Perilla, then leaned down and whispered the rest in my ear.

My eyes widened. Jupiter on wheels! There were a couple of words in there even I didn't know, but they were pretty clear from the context. I wasn't sure if what Nestor had suggested was anatomically possible but if Melpomene had been silly enough to try it and been caught she'd be on the first boat out.

'The lady had hysterics,' Bathyllus said, 'although unfortunately for us she was lucid enough to recall the bird's message and repeat it to her brother verbatim.' Oh, gods. 'Leonidas, I'm afraid, was not amused. Hence the complaint.'

'It's the last straw, Corvinus.' Perilla wasn't smiling much either. 'The parrot will have to go now. He's a positive liability.'

'Yeah. I know.' I sighed. Well, the bastard had had his chances, and he'd systematically and with malice aforethought blown every last one of them. A pity in a way, because he was a real character. However, enough was enough, and when he got chopped he'd only have himself to blame. 'Okay, little guy, tell Alexis to…' I stopped.

'Sir?' Bathyllus gave me a puzzled look.

The solution was beautiful. And it solved everything. 'Tell Alexis to take him round to a guy called Felix in Colonus, with my compliments,’ I said. ‘A thank-you present for services rendered.'