Mary Reed: Ten for Dying

“I base my speculation, admitting it is something a lawyer should never do, on the fact Felix told me he could never discover the Jingler’s superior because the Jingler claimed his instructions came from an anonymous party. But when he mentioned Porphyrius to him he became agitated, and what strikes me is that the Jingler’s death was unusual in a city where the typical method of settling disputes is a knife in the ribs. Quicker and simpler by far than creeping up on a man with a coil of rope over your shoulder.”

“Then again it may have been suicide, but two private hangings in one set of rogues is not met often in my experience,” John observed.

“At least some good has come of the poor man’s death. It transpires the Jingler owned the tenement in which he lived and once sold the proceeds by direction of his will are to be used to found a home for lock-makers’ orphans. Though I do wonder how many lock-makers’ orphans there can be, perhaps he thought such charity was the key to heaven.”

The two men fell silent. The scene stretching before them-the sheep, the sea, bees buzzing around clumps of wild flowers, a few olive trees-was almost too peaceful and transparent. There were no hidden mysteries here as there always were in the noisy, teeming crowds of Constantinople. Anatolius’ words about devious dealings might have emanated from another world.

Eventually Anatolius sighed. “So I think it is safe to conclude that Porphyrius planned to steal the Virgin’s shroud as part of his smuggling activities. He recruited accomplices he knew as gamblers or former Blues, while keeping his own distance. The Jingler acted as a go-between, coordinating those involved. Certain Blues helped Porphyrius to enforce his will when necessary since they are always eager for mayhem.”

“And Belisarius’ aide Karpos?”

“He was not involved with the smuggling operation. He had only arrived in Constantinople with Antonina a few weeks before and had hardly emerged from her house, even to attend functions at the palace, whereas Felix had on several earlier occasions taken packages from Martinus to pass along via his excubitors. Karpos, spending so much time at Antonina’s house, somehow learned that Antonina’s servant Tychon had been recruited into the plot to steal the relic, perhaps by overhearing a revealing comment or Tychon might have become intoxicated and talked too much.

“As I see it, Karpos discovered when Martinus was due to deliver the package containing the relic to Felix and either followed him or lay in wait. He strangled him, heaved the body over the wall into Felix’s courtyard, and made off with the shroud. Naturally Porphyrius had no idea who stole it and did everything he could to retrieve it.”

John considered the situation. “It was a master stroke on Karpos’ part. Felix, a man well-known as a supporter of Germanus, was left with a corpse on his hands. Not only would Felix be destroyed but Germanus’ reputation was bound to be sullied by association.”

Anatolius nodded. “The urban watch arrived to search Felix’s house only hours after the courier’s murder, almost certainly sent there anonymously by Karpos. The relic is extremely valuable. Murder to obtain it would be nothing compared to how it could be used-sold to raise the funds Belisarius hoped Antonina could arrange or perhaps held to ransom it to the church authorities. Perhaps it could offer Belisarius divine aid in his military campaign…and so being a cautious man, Karpos left on the next boat for Italy, taking the shroud with him. The Leviathan being a coastal trader it would have been a slow voyage but he and the relic were at least safely away from the city. And where is Karpos now? Presumably he waited for the next ship onward to Italy, the relic still in his possession.”

John said he thought the story seemed complete enough, but not entirely satisfying. Karpos, the man responsible for Martinus’ murder and John’s attempted murder, was free and beyond reach. The Jingler and Martinus’ servant must have been hanged by one or more anonymous Blues at the order of Porphyrius who, if he was not entirely above suspicion, was certainly for all practical purposes above the law.

“As so often happens,” Anatolius pointed out. “Still, if the relic is as powerful as it’s believed to be, it may bring its own punishment to those who misuse it. It may also have protected the Leviathan from sinking.”

“A nun who was traveling on board prayed constantly to her god and to the mother of god. Her prayers didn’t have very far to travel,” John said. “Here’s Cornelia,” he added as she came across the grass, stepping out of the sunshine into the shady temple to sit beside him.

“What are you smiling about, Anatolius?” she asked.

“It’s this. The shroud has been returned anonymously to the Church of the Holy Apostles enclosed in a beautiful box of polished wood which Anastasia recognized as a possession of Antonina’s. It appears that the shroud is larger and whiter than when it was stolen.”

Cornelia chuckled. “I see. A miracle, no doubt.”

“Basilius and the emperor were pleased to be able to tell the populace the relic has been recovered.”

“And what about Felix?”

“The information John gave him provided a weapon for Germanus to use against Belisarius, who is to be recalled.”

“So Felix has been given his command now?” John asked.

“He’s been promised one. The fact that most would consider a generalship a demotion from serving as excubitor captain is also convenient for Justinian, who has been embarrassed by this affair. Felix has freed himself of debt. Porphyrius helped arrange for their forgiveness in return for Felix keeping silent about the old charioteer’s activities. Now Felix is in favor, he dare not threaten his life. Of course there are always accidents…but Felix has also finally given up drinking to excess and gambling.”

“Again,” Cornelia said with a smile.

“So far he has kept it up. And he’s given up Anastasia as well.”

“You mean she left him?” Cornelia said.

“Not at all. He parted with her. His own doing, it seems.”

“A wise move,” John put in.

“She also failed to convert him to Christianity,” Anatolius said.

Cornelia frowned. “She must be furious. Do you think she is going to cause him trouble?”

Anatolius chuckled. “Not at all. She’s off on a new adventure. Attached herself to a poet named Florus. He’s penning an epic ode, as he calls it, about her.” He stood.”Unfortunately I must leave now.”

“You will not stay for a meal at least?” Cornelia asked. “We have fresh-caught fish. Peter proposes to grill it.”

“I’m tempted, but it would be wise not to stay too long. One last thing, John. Felix told me someone had damaged the mosaic in your study. In fact, completely removed it and taken it away. Probably a petty bit of vandalism by one of your enemies.” He frowned. “And yet, if someone was able to make the mosaic girl repeat the conversations you’ve had in that room…”

“That sort of hatred…it’s a good reason to be gone from that place, John,” Cornelia said, a quiver in her voice.

“I shall keep in touch, John, one way or another,” Anatolius said.

“Mithra guard you,” John responded.

Anatolius waved as his horse cantered away.

John gazed out over the sea. Its brilliance made him blink. He felt Cornelia’s hand on his arm and turning, saw she was looking at him with concern.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll get used to this new life in time. We are together here. That is the important thing.”