Mary Reed - Four for a Boy

“Why would anyone commit murder over a work of art anyway? As for myself, I prefer looking at some of those detailed Aphrodites one runs across in the palace gardens, but to kill someone over a chunk of stone, however it’s been shaped, it just doesn’t seem likely.”

“At times we see the connections before we can discern the meaning.”

“Or you do.” Felix rubbed at his stubbled jaw. “You overlook the obvious, John. I’ve been thinking this over myself. Remember that Viator and Hypatius were friends who had fallen out over financial matters. How do you know Viator’s son was not responsible for Hypatius’ death? Mark you, not necessarily with Viator’s knowledge. Or if it comes to it, what if Viator was responsible? You mistook father for son, even if briefly, remember?”

“True,” John admitted. “But then how to explain Viator’s death? Hypatius had no sons to avenge him, at least not so far as we know. No, I am convinced we have been going about this the wrong way. I’m not even sure exactly how I know.”

“We’ve just been wasting our time?”

“Not necessarily. We may know more than we think. We just haven’t realized the significance of what we’ve learned. Because we haven’t been looking at the matter from the proper perspective.”

Felix’s stool creaked as he shifted uncomfortably. “If the emperor suspected one of his bodyguards was taking suggestions from a slave.…I don’t find this new theory very convincing. But I’m tired enough barking down blind alleys and at the gates of mansions to try something different. For a day. I’m not going to explain to Justin that we abandoned a reasonable investigation because you had a vague feeling we were on the wrong track. But what next? We don’t have a list of people connected to this sculpture.”

“We know of at least one other person close to the work. The man who chiseled it. And remember, Theodora mentioned that Hypatius was only one of a number of patrons who paid for it. That didn’t seem to have any bearing on the murder before. No doubt Archdeacon Palamos would know the names of the others.”

***

Palamos was still at his temporary post in the Great Church. A boy, indistinguishable from the child they had watched lighting lamps during their previous visit with the archdeacon, ran to fetch the man.

Felix strolled around the base of the marble Christ, shaking his head. “No, this is not to my taste at all. When I first arrived in Constantinople, it made me uncomfortable, having the eyes of this man upon me everywhere. Hanging on every wall, looming over me as I came and went from the palace.”

Palamos emerged into the vestibule. A fond pat from his pudgy hand sent the boy who had found him back to work.

Felix watched the child race away. “You’ve got more urchins in here than there are on the street.”

“The church is a safer place for them. We try to employ as many as possible. It brings tears to my eyes to see all the beautiful little boys living off scraps, shivering in rags, freezing to death in corners.”

Felix stated their business.

Palamos’ pallid features tightened into a frown. “There were two other patrons who, unlike Hypatius, wished to remain anonymous. Please don’t misunderstand. I am not faulting Hypatius for proclaiming his generosity. There are those who take undue pride in humility. But you can understand my difficulty.”

Felix produced a handful of coins. “Perhaps there are boys here who need new shoes?”

Palamos accepted the donation without hesitation. “How gratifying to see a military man concerned with things other than killing! I suppose I can tell you, in the strictest confidence, that one of the other patrons was Fortunatus. Another great philanthropist. He recently gave all his wealth to the church and retired to the monastery next door.”

“And the second?” John inquired. “A pious widow named Dominica.” Palamos noticed the surprise on John’s face. “You’re acquainted with Dominica?”

“She is an acquaintance of an employer.” Palamos told them where Dominica lived. “If you’re still interested in why so many oppose Theodora, ask Dominica. She can certainly tell you tales. I’ve heard a few myself. Did you know that Theodora’s old actress friends, common whores the lot of them, are welcome at the Hormisdas at any hour? She arranges abortions for them. It’s something upon which she is an authority, having had considerable experience of them herself. If Justinian expects a successor out of that one, he will be sadly disappointed. She’s as worn out as a crone.”

Palamos stopped abruptly and glanced around. “I should not be talking about such things with small ears around. The Lord willing, our boys will avoid these filthy entanglements. That would be a blessing indeed.”

Felix gave a curt nod and thanked Palamos. Outside, he growled to John, “I think Palamos is much too fond of his boys. Where should we go now? There’s the monastery, practically in front of us. I suppose we should speak to this Fortunatus first.”

“If you don’t mind, let’s seek out Dominica. I find walking a useful aid in the contemplation of problems.”

Felix said nothing, but accompanied John across the Augustaion. He came to a halt suddenly, jerked his head around and scanned the square. John followed his gaze, but saw only the usual array of citizens hurrying to shops or churches or homes.

Felix resumed walking. “I keep feeling eyes on my back.”

“After being ambushed I’m not-”

“No. I’m not imagining things. Someone’s watching us, following us.”

As if to confirm his words, as the two men turned to enter the Mese, a young man in a bright red cloak, hardly suitable for street wear, came running toward them. Felix’s hand went to his sword and then dropped away when he saw the youngster’s heavily powdered and painted face. It was one of the pages who served as palace decorations, or in other capacities required by members of the court.

“They said you’d probably be lurking around here,” gasped the page, thoroughly out of breath from his burst of exertion.

“You were almost right,” John remarked to his companion. “Someone was looking for us.”

The page looked from John to Felix. “What a pair! A soldier and a eunuch! You, excubitor. The emperor wants to see you. Immediately. Follow me.”

“If Justin orders it, I shall attend,” replied Felix. “However, I can find my own way to the palace.” The black glare he directed at the page sent the youngster off at a trot.

“Trouble?” John wondered.

“We’ll see. I’d go back to the palace if I were you, John. I’m certain we were being followed.” “I don’t want to delay visiting these patrons,” John replied reluctantly.

“Be careful then. At least I now know you can handle yourself in a fight!”

John watched as Felix turned back toward the palace, and then resumed walking. Now he felt as if someone were watching him. He cursed Felix for putting the idea into his head.

John’s unease dogged him, abating only as he neared Dominica’s house. His shadower, if there indeed was one, remained as invisible as John’s fears.

The approach to the house he sought might have been just another narrow way cutting between brick boxes, apartment buildings which housed many of the administrative ant-like army that marched into palace offices every morning only to march back out each afternoon, the problems of the empire still largely unconquered.

The mansion was an eccentric affair, a two-story hexagonal structure with a series of porches. Hardly in keeping with the practical, unimaginative personality Anna had described. On the other hand, it had almost certainly been built by Dominica’s deceased husband.