The Pericles Commission (14 page)

I pleaded, “Isn’t it common sense that his death means more? What if he was killed by an official?”

“I quite agree with you. All the more reason for his deme to get on with the job. You can search high and low throughout Athens, Nico, and you will not find a single official whose job it is to investigate crime. There never has been, not if you search back to the time of Draco, not even if you go back to King Theseus.

“I can see you feel confused. I understand. I am going to give you a while to think about what I’ve said, Nicolaos, a short while. I hesitate to say it, but there are other young men of talent who perhaps are as deserving of recognition as you. I cannot leave my offer open for long: say, for another three days. If you have not accepted within that time, I will be forced to conclude with the greatest sorrow that you have turned down the chance to boost your career far beyond what you could hope to achieve on your own in the next decade. Good day to you.”

I walked onto the street almost sobbing. I was desperate because everything the Polemarch had said was true. Murder was a private affair. Pericles’ commission was a private one and nothing to do with the state, even though he and I were sure it had everything to do with the state. And the greatest truth the Pole-march had told struck me to the core: I
was
desperately ambitious to succeed. It seemed to me in that short conversation the Polemarch had destroyed my life, because I could do nothing other than continue Pericles’ commission, and when I did, the Polemarch would slam his door in my face.

I tossed and turned all night thinking about what the Pole-march had said. The temptation to abandon Pericles and throw in my lot with the Polemarch was almost overwhelming. At some point in the darkness I decided to do so, and composed several speeches I might use to tell Pericles. I discarded every one of them when I imagined the disdain on Pericles’ face as I  told him what I was doing. I realized with some shame, I hadn’t the courage to tell Pericles I was leaving him, but nor did I have the strength to turn away the Polemarch.

I temporized with the dawn. If I completed my commission quickly, then all my problems would disappear. I could have both Pericles’ reward and the Polemarch’s job by finding this hidden Tanagran within the next three days, and wringing the truth from him. I hoped to Hades he hadn’t already left town.

It may have been a fantasy, and it was certainly driven by moral cowardice, but it was the decision I made, and, of course, it was no decision at all. I rose immediately to perform that urgent task.

But where do you go to find a man in a city as big as Athens? There must be tens of thousands of men.

I rose to the predawn naked from my bed, and reached for my chitoniskos hanging on its peg. What a pleasure to be wearing civilian clothes again. I’d had to buy new clothes after my army time, and I preferred the smaller chitoniskos because it gave me room to move quickly; besides which, it was the fashion among all the young men. Mine was made of two rectangular sheets of light linen, sewn together down the right side and open down the left. I wrapped it around me, pinned the front and back sheets together over my shoulders, and stuck in an extra pin along the left to hold it all in place. I belted with a piece of rope and pulled the material up so that it bloused a little and brought the hem above my knees. I wrapped a short chlamys cloak across my shoulders and then added one more item many Athenians don’t carry—a dagger, which I lodged under my belt and within the material where it would not be obvious.

I had risen early, but my twelve-year-old brother had risen earlier still. He found me in the courtyard as I nibbled on a bowl of yesterday’s bread dipped in wine and pondered how to find one particular grain of sand on a beach.

“Nico, I was thinking. I suppose you’re going to look for that killer this morning?”

“Yes, but don’t even think about asking to come along. Our mother would kill me.”

“Of course, there aren’t many places you need search.”

“What! There are countless men in Athens.”

“But most have work, or live outside the walls on their farms, or will be in their homes. An outsider has none of those things. Where would they go? There’re the Agora, the streets of the tradesmen, the public buildings, the inns, and Piraeus. I know it’s a lot of area to cover, Nico, but surely if you ask for any man from Tanagra in those places, you must find him quickly.”

I said confidently, “Exactly what I was about to do. But you did well to think it for yourself.”

“Thanks, Nico!”

I wasn’t yet ready to admit my irritating younger brother was smarter than me.

It was harder than it seemed. I eliminated the Agora quickly—visitors are noticed, often questioned, and it’s a small area to cover—then began a trek through the inns. There are many of these. The temptation to stop at each for a cooling drink was strong, but I controlled myself. I had to be sober if I found the man.

The good-quality inns close to the Agora had never heard of him. There were men from Tanagra all right, but they had either come as a group, or were merchants known to their innkeepers for years as regular customers. I assumed an assassin brought in to kill a man would be on his own, and wouldn’t be a regular visitor. So I started on the low dives. These are to be found in the narrow, muddy backstreets close to the main gates. I commenced with the ones by the Dipylon Gates that led to the west and north, thinking my quarry was more likely to have arrived by foot if he came from Tanagra. This drew a complete blank. It was only when I finished at the end of the day that I realized my foolishness. If the man wasn’t acting for Tanagra then he probably didn’t come directly from there. So I hurried to the inns closest to the two gates that lead to Piraeus, the port town of Athens. If he didn’t walk here, then the Tanagran must have come by boat. That was going to make it harder. A lot of boats come to Athens.

“Do you have anyone from Tanagra staying here?” I asked of yet another innkeeper, a beaten-down looking fellow with crooked legs. It was early in the evening and the local custom was just starting to arrive.

“The man has more visitors than a whore,” the innkeeper muttered.

My jaw dropped. “You mean you do?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Did have, though. Gone now.”

My heart fell. For a moment there I thought I’d found my man. “When did he leave?” I asked.

“Expensive business, running an inn.”

“I’m sure.”

“Takes a lot of time too.”

“I can imagine. Now about that man from Tanagra—”

“Can’t afford to spend time talking when I got work to do.” He moved to the next table, where a drunk was already slumped over. The innkeeper pushed him aside, wiped the dribble where the man had been lying, then pushed him back into place.

“Isn’t it a little early for him to be drunk?” I asked.

“Ephron? Nah, that’s just his hangover from lunch. He’ll be better when he’s had something to drink.”

I pulled out a few drachmae, having worked out the hint. “These for what I want to know.”

The innkeeper glanced at my offering and snorted. “Hope yer don’t want to know much.”

“This Tanagran, when did he leave?”

“Two days ago.” He reached for the coins. I pulled my hand back.

“Not yet. When did he arrive?”

The innkeeper thought. “Last month? Maybe a bit before or after.”

“What was his name?”

“He said he was Aristodicus.”

“You doubt it?”

The man shrugged. “He seemed the type to have a few names, yer know what I mean? He said his name was Aristodicus. I got no reason to think otherwise.”

Better and better. “Had you seen him before?”

“Nah.”

“Had he been in Athens before?”

“How in Hades should I know? He never been at my inn before, I can tell yer that.”

“Who are these men who came to visit him?”

The innkeeper held out his hand. “Yer got your money’s worth. Yer want more, yer pay more.”

I dropped the coins in his hand and pulled out another handful. I wondered if I could bill Pericles for this, and decided I wasn’t brave enough to try.

“I dunno who the guys were that came to see him.”

I put the coins back in my bag.

“Wait! I can tell you they were Athenians from the way they talked. And they were rich.”

To this man, almost anyone would look rich. “How many visits?”

He shrugged. “Four, five, six. Maybe three times for each of them?”

“Them?”

“Two guys with their slaves. It’s hard to tell a slave from a citizen in Athens, you know? Everyone dresses the same. But definitely two men came here, and they both had slaves. And always they asked for Aristodicus. That’s unusual for some out of town drifter, yer know? And I don’t think they knew about each other. At least, they came at different times.”

I had no idea who the two visitors were, but I was sure I’d found my man.

“Describe Aristodicus.”

“Drifter, like I said. Tough man, kinda grizzled-looking. He’s been a mercenary some time or I’ll eat my own bar food. Scar down his face, left side, like can happen if a spear catches yer in the helmet.”

That agreed with what Brasidas had told me.

“Okay, catch.” I tossed him the coins and turned to get out of this cesspit.

“Funny thing though, this guy never left.”

“What was that?” I asked, startled.

“He never left. I mean, he left the inn, said he was leaving town, but I saw him in Piraeus yesterday when I went to get more wine.”

“Maybe he didn’t like the bedbugs here.”

“Then he made a bad deal. Compared to the inns in Piraeus, my place is a king’s palace.” He spat into the mud of his floor.

I think I danced all the way home. Aristodicus of Tanagra was still in Athens, or at least he had been until yesterday. But he’d changed inns, and I was sure I knew why.

Aristodicus wasn’t planning to leave town. If he had been, he would have left from where he was already staying. Why shift inns for just a night?

No, Aristodicus had moved because he didn’t want at least one of his two visitors to find him. And he’d moved after the murder. How interesting.

There was a man waiting for me when I returned home. The house slave ushered me into the public room, where a rather pale, ill-looking fellow sat drinking our wine. Sophroniscus had met the fellow, as is proper, discerned that he was a citizen wanting to see me on business, and had left him to it. This meant whoever he was, my father didn’t like him. Otherwise, Sophroniscus would have been drinking wine with him and boring the man with talk of sculpture.

“You want me?” I said as I entered.

He looked me up and down and said coolly, “Not I. The Pole-march, who happens to be a friend of mine.”

“Oh.” I sat before him. “You’ve come about the secretary position.”

“Indeed. My name is Tellis. When the Polemarch was allotted his office he asked me, his old friend, to be one of his two lieutenants. I am ill, as I have no doubt you’ve already observed, and whether I shall survive to next year lies with the Gods. The Polemarch asked me to see you, to convince you his offer is genuine. He thinks, you see, that you might not have believed him when he offered you the position I now hold.”

“I confess the thought occurred to me later that perhaps the Polemarch would be quite happy if I had to abandon my investigation.”

Tellis waved his hand as if fending off a minor irritant. “I cannot speak to the Polemarch’s motivations, and nor, I suspect, can you. What I can tell you is that the offer is genuine, and the offer expires in two days. You see me before you, so you know the Polemarch spoke truth when he told you his secretary is ill. Having told that much truth, might the rest not be true too? The Polemarch sees you as a coming man. It is better to have such men in your camp than on the other side. Therefore he offers you a position far beyond your years. I remind you that unlike the archonship—a position of infinitely greater power—the secretariat does not prevent you from holding higher office in the future.”

“I’m afraid the Polemarch overestimates the depth of my arrogance. I have never imagined myself as an archon.” I think I blushed lightly as I said this, because in my dreams I had imagined myself before the people, leading them in the Ecclesia. In the cold light of day, having observed the likes of Pericles, Xanthippus, and Archestratus in action, I knew it would be long before I had that ability, if indeed I ever would.

“Be that as it may, the position is open and the offer is made. If it will not make you a great man, and I can promise you from personal experience it will not, the job would certainly put you in the public eye, be a springboard for higher public office. What do you say?”

“The same as I said to the Polemarch: that I must think about this before giving an answer.”

Tellis rose to go, steadying himself with a shaky hand on the end of the couch. He picked up a walking stick that rested alongside, and said, “You are either remarkably cautious, which for such a young man is an admirable trait, or else you are a fool, which for such a young man would be quite normal. I wish you joy of your deliberations. Goodbye.”

Sophroniscus was jovial at dinner that evening. He had studiously ignored my activities unless I spoke of them, but tonight he said over the wine, “I notice your business is becoming more popular. You’re even starting to receive clients at home. Who was that man who came to see you today?”

“His name is Tellis. He was secretary to the Polemarch.”

“Was?”

“Yes. He fell ill and had to retire.”

“What would the Polemarch want with you?” Phaenarete asked. She ordered the slaves to clear the courtyard of dinner bowls.

“Uh, he offered me the secretary position Tellis vacated.”

“Congratulations, my boy!” Sophroniscus beamed. “I confess, I thought you were overreaching when you said you wanted to try this—well, I made myself clear at the time, I suppose—but to pick up such a position so quickly speaks of good prospects.”

“I haven’t said yes, Father.”

Silence.

“You…you
turned down
the Polemarch’s offer?” Sophroniscus spluttered. “Are you the same son who was so desperate to make a name in public affairs, he spurned his father’s trade?”