See Delphi And Die (28 page)

LXI

I felt stricken with apprehension. Other messages in the past, received too late, had sent me chasing to find women, either too young or too naive, who were waiting alone in places of danger. Sometimes I had failed to reach them in time.

Aulus had brought a fast trap. As a senator's son he had no notion of economising with donkey-carts. This was a light, high-wheeled affair that could have doubled for Athena's war chariot. All we needed was an owl on the footboard.

Aulus drove. It was a privilege of his rank to seize the reins and cause havoc. He scattered the other traffic as if he was in a race in the circus. I used the journey to bring him up to date. When I said what Helena and I had learned from Marcella Naevia yesterday, he snorted, astounded by her attitude. In the dim light of a torch I saw him biting his lip, wondering what nonsense she was about to impose on us now.

The Roman agora lay due north of the Acropolis, slightly to the east of the original Greek one. Ours had been instituted by Caesar and Augustus and, as Helena had said of the Roman infiltrations on the Acropolis, 'You have to pretend the new Roman buildings are a sign of Roman esteem for Athens.' She was a mistress of irony.

She and I had omitted the new agora from our self-devised itinerary, but Aulus found it easily. He parked beside an ostentatious public lavatory, which we both used - marvelling wryly that Roman esteem for Greece was expressed so well by this sixty-eight-seater shit-house with full running water. Now we were ready for anything.

The House of Kyrrhestian stood just outside the agora. It was an antique octagonal building, an exquisite marble creation, decorated with representations of the winds. This weather station and timepiece had been built by a famous Macedonian astronomer. A water-driven clock occupied the interior, showing the hours on a dial; there were sundials on each outer face; a rotating disk showed the movement of the stars and the course of the sun through the constellations; on top, a bronze Triton wielded a rod to act as a weathervane. You could not ask for more - unless it were for the automata, bells, and singing birds on a clock I had heard of from Marinus, which he said he had seen in Alexandria.

Aulus and I had a lot of time to view this scientific wonder. Philomela was late.

'You can tell she's a Roman woman.'

'If she was Greek, she wouldn't be allowed out of the house.'

'Maybe the Greeks have got something!'

'I'll tell Helena you said so.'

'Not even you would do that, Falco.'

Eventually the woman turned up, looking surprised that we seemed impatient. I saw Aulus surveying her sceptically; it was the first time he had met her. Always uneasy with female witnesses, Philomela - or Marcella Naevia - with her scarves and scatty expression, made him swallow nervously.

She plunged straight in. She was keyed up and agitated. 'Falco, I have to tell you about the man.'

'Yes, you need to name him formally.'

'Well, you know who I mean!' She grabbed me by the tunic sleeve. 'It is very important that you listen to me. This man may have caused that terrible murder.'

'Valeria Ventidia?'

'Of course. I should have realised before. I was at Olympia.'

'I thought you didn't go because you disliked the place? That was what you told me.' I was determined to test everything she said. To me, Marcella Naevia was an unreliable witness, too ethereal to be trusted. If she knew, she would say I was prejudiced.

Did I doubt her simply because her standards were not mine? Yes. Well, was I wrong?

'I had a reason.'

'I need to know it.'

'You just have to believe me.'

'No. It is time to stop messing. Marcella Naevia, I want to know precisely: why did you go to Olympia this summer? For all I know, you are the killer.'

'That's a mad thing to say!' I heard Aulus cough with laughter at her angry retort. 'I went,' Marcella Naevia informed us stiffly, 'because I always watch what happens when they bring people to Greece.'

'You hang around the Seven Sights Travel groups?'

'Somebody has to observe what goes on. There may be something I can do to help someone.'

I understood why we kept finding her everywhere we went. 'Were you at Delphi when I travelled there? Were you at Lebadeia?'

Now Marcella Naevia frowned and looked confused. 'Should I have been?'

'Statianus, Valeria's husband, was there. He had a misadventure.'

'I only look after the women,' she said. 'Only the women are at risk, you see.'

'Not true any longer,' I informed her curtly.

'I don't know about this.' She looked troubled. 'I have heard things about other tours... people die too often. Nobody seems to know or to do anything about it.'

With growing impatience, Aulus interrupted. 'We are doing something about it. You are holding us up here, Marcella Naevia. Tell us why you asked us to come tonight.'

'Well, Falco -' She ignored Aulus. Middle-aged women generally did. 'I do not know if you realise this: they were both there.'

'Both? You mean Phineus and Polystratus?'

'At Olympia.'

'Which time?'

'Both times!'

Now that was new.

Marcella Naevia kept maundering; her manner was officious, though her subject matter was still muddled. 'The problem is, I was never certain which man was such a bother to my niece. Caesia just muttered how much she hated 'that man.' I always assumed she meant Phineus. It could have been either, I see that now.'

I had hoped Marcella Naevia would clarify the issue. A typical witness, she was making it worse. While I tried to think, she burbled on. 'Phineus was in charge. He was the most in evidence, whenever we moved on. He fixed up events, dinners, shopping excursions. Of course, whoever it was, it made no difference. Caesia and I went up the Hill of Cronus on our own account. He drove us to it, but you cannot bring him to justice for that.'

'Let's get it clear.' I addressed her firmly. 'Both men accompanied your tour? Nobody has told me that before. In fact, Caesia's father gave me a list of travellers which did not name Polystratus.'

'He came out after we started. It was supposed to be just for the Olympic Games. That was an excuse, we all thought, so he could watch the sports events at our expense.'

'Oh wonderful! Now - when Phineus fled back to Rome after your niece died, what did Polystratus do?'

'He had already left.'

I glanced at Aulus. That could mean it was Polystratus who had the guilty conscience. Maybe Phineus went after him, thinking that Polystratus really had killed Marcella Caesia. Maybe Phineus had a reason to think Polystratus attacked women. Maybe he knew Polystratus had done it on previous trips.

'And what about this year? You saw both men with the group again?'

'I suppose nobody told you that either?' demanded Caesia's aunt.

'When I first met the group at Olympus, ' Aulus interrupted,' only Phineus was there.'

'Polystratus was in Rome by then,' I said. 'I saw him there myself. Unless he got back to Italy on winged horses.'

Aulus shook his head. 'If he really shifted, there was time.'

'True. He could have been on the same boat as your letter! If he had brutally killed Valeria, he would really shift.'

Marcella Naevia looked relieved. 'Well, you must be glad I told you this.'

In my terms, she had told us nothing.

'Valeria died very brutally. Polystratus does not look strong enough to have carried out that killing,' I mused fretfully. Then Marcella Naevia at last told me something useful.

'Of course he is strong, Falco. He is a past pankration fighter, surely you know that? They both are!'

There had been no reason for this meeting to be held at the weather station. It was pure drama; Marcella Naevia was staying nearby at a respectable house with a woman who had befriended her. We escorted her back there safely. Although we probed, it was evident she knew nothing else material.

Still, we knew now that both Phineus and Polystratus had been present when Caesia took against being manhandled and when Valeria was killed. Both had athletics connections. Their missing teeth confirmed the violence in their past. Both would be at home in the palaestra. Both would be familiar with jumping weights.

We were about to see proof of their sporting careers. When we drove back to the party inn, the Sertorius children were larking about outside the main gate, with Gaius and Cornelius. The three boys had a ball, which they were kicking at the legs of anyone who came and went, pretending it was accidental. I was not in the mood for a discipline session. I helped Aulus deliver the cart to an ostler, hoping the trouble would have ended by the time we ran into the playfellows.

The boys saw us coming. Sertorius junior, Tiberius, gave the ball a great kick into the courtyard. They all ran inside. Tiberia was slower. As she turned to enter the building, two men arrived for the party. They were kitted out in very smart tunics, with luxurious braid at hem and neck; you could describe either as expensively dressed. One was Phineus, who held back, dealing with their donkey-cart. Polystratus, the other, had noticed the girl.

Tiberia was aware of him too. She jumped like a hare. She scuttled for the courtyard entrance. Polystratus swept a low bow as she passed him. Tiberia pressed herself against the far wall of the gatehouse, then ran faster as if she knew just what was coming. Polystratus straightened up abruptly, and patted her behind, grinning.

Tiberia stopped in her tracks and turned right around. 'Don't do that again, ever!' With set shoulders, she stalked off, no longer running.

Phineus had seen what happened. He said something that we could not hear. Polystratus must have retorted with an obscenity. Next moment, Phineus was yelling at him. Polystratus shrugged and turned away. Phineus flew at him and jumped him.

'Whey-hey!' Aulus and I set off towards the fight.

Marcella Naevia was right, we saw that now. they were both pankration contestants. It was ugly. Once they set to, any move was permissible. You cannot bite in pankration, but neither possessed front teeth and sucking is not disallowed. Otherwise, they wrestled, punched, stamped, kicked, squeezed, heaved each other upside down, threw each other, elbowed, kneed, and chopped. Phineus had both weight and bulk; Polystratus must have been one of the lighter, speedier fighters. Despite his paunch, he danced and shifted his feet nimbly, angling for a quick jerk off balance. Each took the punishment as if he felt no pain.

Whatever was going on, the partners had now seriously fallen out.

A crowd gathered quickly. Chefs, flowergirls, musicians, travellers all emerged from the inn, pushing and shoving for a viewpoint. Young Glaucus had found himself a long wand from somewhere; he tried to intervene like a judge. It was useless. Helena wriggled through the press to my side.

'When someone said there was a fight, I assumed it was you!'

'Such faith.'

We let them have their head for a time, hoping that would tire them. Eventually Aulus, Glaucus, and I moved in. 'Come on now. Break it up, you two!'

We jumped back. It was too dangerous.

Then, suddenly, the antagonists became aware of the spectators. Phineus broke first. He growled, a short irritated noise like an obstreperous lion. Polystratus was thoroughly worked up, but took the point reluctantly. Still tense, they stopped fighting. They made a few feints, all pretence but with an undercurrent. Then they shook hands, smiled at the crowd slyly and toothlessly, and strode off into the inn with their arms around each other's shoulders.

'Old sparring partners!' Phineus called back at us.

Polystratus gripped him, rather too hard, it seemed to me. 'Still testing each other, after all the years!'

'I don't think so,' murmured Young Glaucus to me. 'I don't think that was a bout for best of three throws, Falco. I have never seen such dirty tricks.'

'No. They both meant to kill if they could.'

Then as we all prepared to enter the inn for the party, Glaucus exclaimed with a little too much excitement. 'Let the Games begin!'

LXII

During our absence, the scene in the courtyard had changed for the better.

As the company flowed back indoors, we could see everyone was several drinks further along. The atmosphere had warmed up. Wreaths and garlands had been applied to curls and bald heads, then had listed, or slipped well down over one eye. Skirts had gaped open and the gaps had stayed unnoticed. Tight shoes had been tossed off.

A welcome blast of cooking smells greeted us. Spices sizzled in hot oil; steaming pots of broth wafted hints of delights to come. Overseeing the kitchen was Minas, who boomed encouragement to all. Red-faced from the cooking fires, he winked at me as I passed him, and whispered, 'I have guards standing ready. Once the villain is identified, he goes straight to the Areopagus.' For an instant I glimpsed the true lawyer in him. 'It is a long while since I conducted a murder trial. 'He was planning to enjoy it.

A whirl of guests swept between us. Next moment Minas was extolling the wine he had brought. From the numbers of amphorae now lined up against a wall, it seemed drink was available to us in naval quantities.

Helena grabbed her brother by the hand and pulled him temporarily from the melee. 'Now you take care, for once. Here is what I found for you in Plato's Symposium. It was agreed that drinking was not to be the order of the day, but that they were all to drink only so much as they pleased.'

Aulus eyed her askance.'Is my sister tipsy?'

'Hardly got going yet,' I said, shaking my head sadly.

My mind was on other things. Slipping away from them, I followed Phineus. He had been accosted by Cleonyma. I missed the start of their exchange, but overheard her saying, 'So he will keep doing what he does, and you will keep on after him!'

'Your husband was a sad loss,' Phineus told her, in a patronising tone. He had noticed me and was desperate to shut her up.

'Oh he was!' hissed Cleonyma. 'He was a fine man, who should not have died before his time.' Her voice acquired real venom. 'You stink, Phineus!'

She turned away, disgusted. Then Phineus fixed his main attention on Polystratus nearby, who had been watching. Phineus walked right up to him and once more muttered angrily. He seemed to be warning Polystratus about me. This time they were acting up, to look good. Phineus pointedly slapped his partner on both cheeks. It looked playful. It sounded painful. Phineus then let go, and jokingly straightened the ornamented neck of his partner's party tunic. It was the long dark red garment Polystratus had worn when he came to our house on the Aventine, the one that looked as if a theatrical king should wear it. Close to, there were worn threads, but from a distance it would impress strangers.

Polystratus laughed and walked off. I moved in and stopped Phineus, grabbing him by the upper arm. He had more muscles than I would have expected, had I not known about the pankration. I kept my voice low. 'Let me tell you what this looks like, Phineus.'

'Don't bother, Falco.'

'Cleonymus and Cleonyma suspected the truth, didn't they?' I remembered my conversation with Cleonymus on our walk up to Acrocorinth. 'He gave me a strong hint, if only I had recognised it earlier: he told me he wished that Cleonyma had bashed Polystratus. Other people have spoken out too. The picture builds slowly - but it begins to appear. I think your old crony has been threatening your business by unacceptable behaviour. I think you waste a lot of effort trying to deter him, Phineus. In short, I think Polystratus is a killer - and you know it!'

'You're seeing things that don't exist, Falco. Go to an eye doctor.'

'Your partner killed Valeria. He is the so-called expensively dressed man who killed Cleonymus. You sent him to Delphi, then you had second thoughts. You feared he might harm Statianus, so you escaped from custody and ran off after him. Perhaps you went to Delphi, but you arrived too late. By then they were in Lebadeia, Phineus - where Polystratus committed yet another murder.'

'Such a good story,' Phineus crooned offensively. 'But not a hint of proof, is there?'

'I won't give up.'

'You don't even have a corpse, Falco.'

'The gods only know what Polystratus did with Statianus. But if we ever find any trace of that poor man - anything at all - your days of covering up will be over.'

I did not wait for Phineus to turn away from me; I left him. His contemptuous laugh behind me seemed to have a hollow ring. I hoped so.

My companions were gesturing me back to our table. We squashed up together on two couches. At a more refined dinner, each of these would serve for a solo male guest, but this party broke the rules in many ways. We had women and girls among us, for one thing. Minas kept making a point of this, carolling that he had invited all, as a gesture to Roman custom. His own womenfolk were trapped at home, presumably. Minas made a ghastly joke about our women possessing all the social skills of natural hetaerae; he gushingly praised them as dancers, singers, and conversationalists. To us it was embarrassing and, being frank Roman women, they derided him fairly openly.

Low tables had been set before the couches. Now waiters laid these with tempting starters. They brought baskets of bread to us, both brown barley rolls with a nutty taste, and soft white wheat loaves, luxurious but blander. The first course dishes of dainties followed in procession. savoury prawns, tiny roast birds, snails, crispy battered squid, mixed olive relish to eat on the bread with its oil dripping down our chins, almonds and walnuts, sweetbreads, herbed cabbage in honey vinegar. Unidentifiable things in hot pastry sat on the dish longest, but as the service was leisurely, even they went in time.

More wine flowed. It had improved in quality and quantity. Minas had treated us to a Nemean red, rich without being too heavy, clove-scented and appealing. We approached it suspiciously, but were quickly won over. The waiters were counting out eight measures of water to one, swirling them in a huge mixing bowl. At first the result seemed curious, soon it seemed just fine.

Travelling entertainers poked their heads in at the gatehouse. As they scampered in and began acrobatics, our existing musicians were fired up to jealousy. Soon every table was assailed by one or another set of persistent pluckers, tootlers, or bellydancers. We paid the newcomers to go away, then we had to pay the official players to stop sulking. They lined up cheerfully and threw themselves into what they thought Romans liked best: an endless selection of the bland numbers Nero composed for his 'winning' performances on his Greek Grand Tour. This would only happen in the provinces; no one in Rome ever plays Nero's tunes any more. Out here the ghastly ditties seemed firm favourites. Meandering measures bored on interminably; the musicians smiled like fanatics and kept going, even when we had all obviously stopped listening.

The tuneless imperial riffs formed a surreal backdrop, mingled with smoke from the now large bonfire on which cooks were about to roast a mighty shark. This had been donated by Phineus, a present to his clients at their farewell banquet in Greece. Hanging lamps and the firelight provided a warm glow. Polystratus, too, had contributed a main course dish. His donation came in a huge bronze cauldron, within which dark gravy gurgled round a salt pork stew. Alongside this, whole kids were on spits. Characteristic scents of Mediterranean herbs hit us. oregano, rosemary, sage, and celery seed.

While we waited for the next course to be brought, Helena leaned towards me. She indicated the letter Aulus had brought when he arrived.' Mother!'

I feigned delight. 'What does dear Julia Justa have to say?' Helena was silent. Fear struck me.'The children?'

Helena patted my hand. 'No, no. They are tearing the house apart and don't miss us.'

'Never?'

'Not much.'

'Well, I miss them.' Aulus wriggled closer, taking note of our conversation. He and his sister exchanged a glance. Aulus must know what the letter contained. I thought the worst. 'There is something you aren't telling me!'

Helena scowled. She seemed annoyed with me about something. 'This is just a letter about Forum news, of course. For instance, Marcus, Mother says the esteemed Rutilius Gallicus is returning to Rome after his stint as governor of Germany. I was acquainted with Gallicus - consul, law-giver, and fellow mediocre poet - and I certainly knew Germany. 'Everyone keeps secrets, don't they?' Helena's tone implied ominous significance. 'Tell me, Marcus darling - what exactly happened in the forest that time, when you and my brother Quintus crossed over the river into Germania Libera? When you shared an adventure that to this day, neither of you ever talks about?'

I had told her most of it. Not enough, perhaps. What happened was extremely dangerous. It had included a rebel prophetess called Veleda, whose effect on the then-young Camillus Justinus explained why neither of us had ever broken our silence back at home.

Helena reached out and poured herself more wine. She knew more about our escapade in Germany than she had ever acknowledged. 'Rutilius Gallicus has captured Veleda. He is bringing her in triumph to Rome.'

With a pang, I realised what that would mean to Justinus. He had never forgotten Veleda. First love had struck him hard. The prophetess had been foreign, exotic, powerful, and beautiful. The best thing about her was that none of us had ever expected to see her again...

I nodded to her brother. 'Aulus, let me guess. your mother is changing her instructions. She wants us to go home.'