Lindsey Davis - See Delphi And Die

Suddenly he gave up. Sensing that there would be no entertainment here, he was eager to move on to the next venue. 'Ah, we shall show you pleasure tomorrow then, Falco! I have a plan; I have a thrilling plan – I have news!' he exclaimed, belatedly remembering the reason for this late-night call. 'Come down and hear.'

I shook my head. I gestured to the rain, and made as if to go indoors. For once it worked.

'I have found your people!' Minas roared, anxious to keep me. 'I have seen them. I have talked to them. We shall make the wrongdoer show himself. I have a plan; I will show you how, Falco. We shall bring them all together, you and I. Then they will interact and he will be revealed!'

'Fabulous. Minas has invented putting all the suspects in a single room and waiting for the killer to confess…Tell him, Helena. That old ruse stopped working back before the Persians built their bridge across the Hellespont.'

'You're the hero. You tell him.'

'I am going to throw a great big party for this group!' warbled Minas. 'We shall have wonderful food and wonderful wine – dancers, musicians, talk, and I will teach you to play kottabos. Everyone always wants to play kottabos. You will come, and bring my dear young friend Aelianus. Watch and see. I will find the truth for you!'

The rain continued falling, as the party-goers wandered off again into the night.

I like a good party. Who doesn't? Believe me, I did not like this one.

I tried to pretend the event was not happening. The following day, I went back to Mount Lykabettus, looking for dreamy-eyed Philomela. She was not at her hut. I gazed out across the plain to the ocean, and wished I was on board one of the triremes and merchant ships that I could just make out, moored on the distant blue water. I wanted to go home.

On my return to our inn, disgruntled, I found Helena reading Plato's Symposium as research for the evening.

'Lucky for some! Intriguing stuff?'

'Pages of debate about the nature of love. Otherwise, little has changed among the greybeards of Athens. Listen to this passage, Marcus.'

'I'm not in the mood for Plato, fruit.'

'You will like it.'

'Will I have any choice?'

While I pulled off my dusty boots and cleaned them grimly, she read to me. Suddenly there came a great knocking at the door of the house, like revellers, and the sound of a flute-girl. Agathon told the attendants to go and see who the intruders were. 'If they are friends of ours, invite them in, but if not, say that the drinking is over.'

A little while afterwards they heard the voice of Alcibiades resounding in the court; he was extremely drunk and kept roaring and shouting, 'Where is Agathon? Lead me to Agathon,' and at length, supported by the flute-girl and some of his attendants, he found his way to them. 'Hail, friends,' he said, appearing at the threshold, with a massive garland of ivy and violets, his head flowing with ribbons. 'Will you have a very drunken man as a companion of your revels?…'

'I told you philosophy was fun.'

I laughed; as ever, Helena had mellowed me. 'I admit that's a horribly familiar portrait of a very drunk man. I think Minas of Karystos is a Platonist.'

Helena winced. 'And my brother is going to become his Alcibiades?'

'Don't worry,' I said kindly. 'Alcibiades may have been a lush, but he was a hugely charismatic character!'

'Drunks tend to think that of themselves,' Helena sighed.

The party was held at an inn, luckily not ours. Phineus and Polystratus had placed the Seven Sights group at a run-down establishment closer to Piraeus than Athens.

The travellers had changed little since we saw them at Corinth. Their current moans were that every time they wanted to visit the sights, they had to walk several miles there and back, or hire expensive transport. Phineus had taken them on one formal sightseeing trip into Athens, after which he left them on their own. On his trip the guide had been inaudible and only interested in taking them to his uncle's souvenir shop. Volcasius had stayed too long at the Temple of Athena Nike, was left behind unnoticed, and got lost. By the time he found his own way back to their inn, the others had left for a dinner, which he missed. Three days later he was still arguing with Phineus about that, because he had paid for his meal in advance. The others were arguing because promised dancers never showed and the drink ran out.

'Everything as usual!' Marinus told us, grinning.

In fact, we sensed differences. There was plenty of observation time, since Minas of Karystos did not turn up with his catering corps for two hours after the appointed start. Organising a party might be his forte, but he achieved it very slowly. I hoped that meant he was spending time on planning. But I feared he had gone to someone else's party and forgotten his pledge to us.

The group, or at least their current survivors, had assembled spot on time. We already knew they turned up promptly for any meals they did not have to pay for. If something is free, seasoned travellers form a queue.

The Sertorius family came first; we could see what was happening there all right. The tall husband looked grim; the once-dowdy wife was wearing a rather tasteful Greek head-dress, a pointed stephane. She gazed around her more openly instead of seeming haunted; the two adolescents kicked their heels more peevishly than ever, as if they had had their noses put out of joint. Amaranthus joined us next, alone and at a loose end. Marinus and Indus arrived together, tall and short, Marinus grey-haired and still limping from his dog bite, Indus hook-shouldered and saturnine, though he had had his lank hair trimmed recently. Indus greeted Sertoria Silene with an almost imperceptible nod; she responded at once, giving him a pleasant smile. Her husband glowered. His downtrodden wife was enjoying herself, and he clearly hated it.

'Oh wonderful!' murmured Helena, nudging me.

Cleonyma and Minucia bundled in through the street entrance, hot from a bath-house manicure and pedicure session, which had been carried out by some girl whose ineptitude was sending them both into hoots of laughter (until they remembered how much they had tipped her.) They shrieked hello to everyone, then although they were already more brightly clad than any of us, rushed off to their rooms to get dressed up. The awkward curiosity, Volcasius, sloped in, still wearing his dreadful greasy straw hat and what appeared to be the same tunic we last saw him in. Then came the widow Helvia, neatly dressed in white with her impressive necklace (which we had seen before) and a new bangle; she angled this on her plump arm so that we would all notice it, giving a small smile to Marinus as if it were a gift from him that pleased her. So that little liaison must be going well.

Attendants finally arrived from Minas. They carried in couches, cushions, flowers, and garlands, with which they began to dress the courtyard. They took their time; no one planned to do in his back lifting furniture. The innkeeper sent out slaves with lamps, which they positioned very sluggishly and forgot to light. A flautist looked in, summed up the lack of preparation, and disappeared again.

Helena and I had found ourselves a centrally placed table, where we stationed Albia, my nephews, and my dog, all so far on their best behaviour. Young Glaucus had gone to fetch Aulus. We struggled to keep spaces for them. The attendants had no idea that a party was for people, and that people might want to be with their friends. They were designers. To them, placing equipment artistically took precedence over the happiness of mere guests. Gradually they created a theatrical setting – in which our presence seemed a messy inconvenience.

There was still no sign of any food or drink.

The travellers became tense about whether and when they would be fed. Helvia had gone fluttery and Sertorius Niger kept striding about in search of somebody to complain to. In his absence from their couch, his wife went over to talk to Indus. She remained there for the rest of the evening.