Murder in Megara (18 page)

Chapter Thirty-eight

The City Defender waved a fly away from his face with his stylus and consulted the tablet in front of him before addressing John. “The last time you sat here, you were suspected in one murder on your estate. This morning you are a suspect in two.”

“The last time I sat here was because a fish merchant and his friends tried to burn down my house.”

“Nevertheless you were a murder suspect, and will remain so as long as you are in Megara.”

“How would you benefit from my leaving, Georgios?”

“For a start I'd have fewer criminal matters to worry about.”

Today the patch of sunlight John had noticed on his earlier visit reached farther into the room. It felt warm on his back, casting his shadow across the mosaic floor. The head of his silhouette lay across documents near the edge of Georgios' table, a sight that reminded John of a head waiting to be removed with a swift slice from the sword of an imperial executioner.

There was no crowd present, thanks in part to the armed guard at the door. The only others in the room, aside from John and the City Defender, were Hypatia, seated in a chair against the wall and the two guards flanking her, unnecessarily, in John's opinion, considering her ankles were shackled.

Georgios glanced at his tablet again and then briefly pointed his stylus in Hypatia's direction. “This servant of yours—an Egyptian, I understand—was apprehended at the forge of your tenant, the blacksmith Petrus, in the middle of the night. She was standing over the body of the former overseer of your estate, Diocles, who had been stabbed in the back. Your servant's hands and clothing were bloody and she was holding a kitchen knife in her hand. No doubt you have an explanation. I am willing to hear it.”

“Perhaps she was possessed by demons, like the fish merchant?”

“More likely consorting with them!”

“It isn't for me to explain, Georgios. She has already told you what happened. She was not involved in Diocles' death. She merely stumbled on the body.”

“The people on your estate seem to have a penchant for stumbling on corpses and wandering around after dark. Are these habits you've brought with you from Constantinople? It was my impression those who live there stay inside and lock their doors at night so they won't stumble over corpses piling up in the lawless streets.”

“Why isn't this hearing being written down for the administrative records?”

“It is not a formal hearing”

“It is completely irregular.”

“In the capital, perhaps. This is the way we work in Megara.”

“And it is the way you work?”

Georgios smiled. “Yes. The way the duly empowered City Defender works, along with his armed guards and the support of every citizen.” He turned his attention to Hypatia. “You, woman. Do you want to change this fabricated tale you told me?”

Hypatia's eyes smoldered with dark fire. “I told the truth, sir. When I spotted the body I didn't know whose it was or why it was there. There was only the glow from the forge. He might have fallen and hit his head or been intoxicated.”

“Surely you noticed the wound in his back?” Georgios interrupted.

“No. There were shadows. I was startled. I rolled him over and saw he was dead. I was afraid whoever killed him might still be nearby so I took out the knife I carry for protection. Since being attacked in the marketplace I felt I needed it. You and your guards don't offer any protection!”

“A perfectly lucid and understandable story,” John put in.

“A simpler explanation is that your servant crept up behind Diocles and put the knife in his back, just before Petrus appeared.”

“Petrus could have killed the man. It was his forge. Or it might have been my tenant farmer Lucian, who as we have just heard arrived not long after Petrus appeared.”

“Neither of them was holding a knife in a bloody hand,” the City Defender pointed out.

“Where are Petrus and Lucian?” John demanded. “They should be here to give evidence.”

“Don't be so anxious about that. You'll be appearing before a court soon enough. To proceed. Petrus stated to me he heard a sound and went out to the forge and saw the body and your servant there. Then Lucian came to see Petrus on some business.”

“What kind of business would they be meeting about at that time of night?”

“Petrus had promised to make a new bucket and repair a few tools. He often does small jobs late at night. Lucian waited until he had seen to his swine and finished the day's farm chores. When he got to the forge he saw the blacksmith, Diocles, and the servant woman. Lucian does not know what Diocles was doing there. He hadn't seen the unfortunate man since you relieved him of his duties.”

“So he claims. It's more likely Diocles was staying with Petrus. He hid with Lucian first. Did Petrus also claim he hadn't seen Diocles since I ordered the man off the estate?”

“No. He admitted Diocles stayed with him, just as you say, a few days earlier. It was a simple act of kindness on Lucian's part. After all, they had developed a friendship. Diocles had been a trustworthy overseer for years.”

“Not according to the estate records.”

The City Defender tapped his teeth with the end of his stylus. “You see, this is what bothers me. You have a grievance against Diocles and he is found stabbed in the back on your estate. You have a grievance with your stepfather and he also is found stabbed in the back on your estate.”

“And I, of course, having served for many years at Justinian's court must be an expert at stabbing my enemies in the back?”

“Ah, so you see the logic of it.”

“The master would not do such a thing,” Hypatia declared in a loud voice.

Georgios looked thoughtful. “Perhaps not. Perhaps he would have a trusted servant do it for him.”

“Are you accusing Hypatia, or me, or both of us?” John snapped.

“I would watch my tone, former Lord Chamberlain. The whole situation is quite perplexing, even you would have to admit as much.”

“Yes, anyone on the estate or someone from outside could have killed Diocles for a reason we do not know since he unfortunately omitted to leave a confession. It is very perplexing.”

“It is possible. Many things are possible. But there is also the matter of the woman with the knife.”

“Who had no reason to kill Diocles,” John pointed out.

“Unless she was ordered to or ordered to pretend to have done so. She appears to be quite loyal to you, and why not, considering she is several times removed from her native land and has no friends in Megara?”

There was a rattle of chains as Hypatia jumped up. “Sir, I protest! I—”

The guards slammed her back down hard enough for her head to hit the wall with a thump.

“You need to train your servants better,” Georgios remarked. “Another possibility is she might have thought she was killing someone other than Diocles. I note she is fiery as well as beautiful. A romantic intrigue gone wrong?”

John gave Hypatia a look of warning. She remained quiet but tried to burn Georgios to a cinder with her stare.

“My servant would not engage in an intrigue for any purpose,” John said calmly. “And considering Megara's port, not so far away from my estate, swarms day and night with foreigners, how do we know the person who attacked Diocles did not come from anywhere ships could bring him?”

“So now I should enlarge my circle of suspects to include most of the population of the empire? I am afraid I do not have the resources for that sort of investigation. In fact, I suspect it would be beyond the capacity of Justinian's entire army of spies.” He tapped his teeth again. “By the way, I have learned that you were away from your estate recently.”

“I visited Lechaion on business. Is that also considered a crime in Megara?”

“It depends on the business, doesn't it?”

“It appears the most dangerous event happening to a person in this city is to have the misfortune to discover a murder victim. I may be an exile, Georgios, and I may be disliked here but I am a Roman citizen and as such I possess certain rights. And so, I might add, does my servant.”

“Of course.” Georgios tossed his stylus down and stood up. “And my highest duty is to uphold the law of the empire. Guards, unlock the prisoner's shackles.”

He came around the table. “I am releasing your servant to your care until I decide what is to be done.”

He touched John on the elbow, urging him toward the open door. John jerked his arm away, but complied.

Georgios bent nearer and spoke in a confidential whisper. “May I be honest? You understand diplomacy, do you not? It is sometimes necessary to negotiate. I could have both you and your servant woman imprisoned immediately and executed within the month. Entirely legally, at that. However, I am aware of your former high standing at court. Like everyone else in the empire I know how Justinian's whims can change. Although I would wager that the longer the time that passes the less likely he is to decide to embrace you again.”

“In other words, leave Megara while I have the chance?”

“Not in other words at all. That is exactly what I mean.”

***

Standing in the sunlight John wondered if the City Defender was telling the truth. He wanted John and his family gone, but he was prudent enough to prefer that John leave of his own free will.

He asked himself the question he had asked Georgios. How would Georgios benefit by John's flight? Would he be gaining something directly, or did he count on being rewarded by whoever would benefit from John's absence? Was he so ready to believe Hypatia would carry out any order John gave her, even murder, because Georgios was prepared to do the bidding of whoever was giving him orders?

Hypatia joined John, limping slightly, bloody abrasions on her ankles.

“Should I hire a cart to take us back?” John asked.

She shook her head, still furious. “No, master. I can walk back. I could run back if need be. I could kick that…that…well…I could kick him into the sea if I got the opportunity! Oh, master, I am sorry to have caused you problems.”

“No more than I already had.”

They put a short distance between themselves and the City Defender's office, then John directed her to sit on a bench under a colonnade until she felt steadier on her feet.

As she massaged her ankles, John asked what she had been doing at the blacksmith's forge. She explained, hesitating over her words, she had been seeking Philip, about a personal matter, a misunderstanding.

John guessed it must have been connected to Philip's thwarted plans but he thought it better not to the mention the young man had asked permission to marry her.

“I understand why you were outside then, but what made you go to Petrus' house?”

Hypatia paused. “I thought I saw Philip going there. But I must have been mistaken. It was foggy as well as dark.” She looked distressed, no doubt realizing the obvious conclusion that might be drawn from her words. “Philip had no reason to kill Diocles.”

“I agree. Did you tell the City Defender about seeing Philip? Or, rather, thinking you had seen him?”

“No, master. I…well, it was a personal matter. I didn't want the City Defender questioning me about it.”

“Certainly not. You must tell me, though, why you think it was Philip, given the conditions? It could have been Petrus or Lucian, who were both nearby, or someone else entirely.”

“It was by the stave Philip was carrying. I thought I saw a stave. It could have been one of the other watchmen.”

Or, John thought, anyone who had made a sharpened stave for himself, or most likely, in the dark and fog, she hadn't seen a stave at all but had convinced herself she had, being eager to find Philip, who would naturally have carried one. John had no reason to disbelieve anything Hypatia had told him, and she had no motive for killing Diocles. “Are you sure you're telling me everything? I know Diocles was given to threats. You might have been protecting yourself, or Peter.”

“How could you think that?”

He continued his questioning, drawing out every detail of what she had seen as she approached the forge and after she had found the body. “You say just as you arrived the flames in the forge sprang up?”

A familiar voice interrupted. “John, there you are!”

Leonidas hurried to the bench, looking winded. “I heard you were taken to the City Defender,” he said. “Thank the Lord you've been released!”

“Temporarily at any rate.”

“Word was all over the tax offices and probably the rest of the city by now, so I made haste to catch you. You were leaving the administrative complex when I arrived and the guards delayed me so I lost sight of you.”

“I appreciate your concern, my friend. But is it wise, with your home situation…?”

“My apologies for that, John. I don't intend to abandon you. I wanted to know if there is any way I can help. If you need legal assistance, for instance, I can put you in touch with someone, or you might prefer me to contact whoever arranged the purchase of your estate. If it becomes necessary, I mean. If you are prevented. Heaven grant that it won't be necessary.”

“Thank you, Leonidas. It's good to have someone I can count on in this city.” John reached into his tunic. “I don't want to put you to any trouble, but there's something else you could look into for me. If you find out anything useful I will be in the marketplace tomorrow morning.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

Cornelia tossed down her spoon. It rattled off a platter of figs, spun around, and came to a stop against John's bowl of boiled greens.

“The only reason you've been released is so there can be more attempts to get rid of us permanently,” Cornelia raged. “We ought to go, John. Fortuna has smiled on you and you've escaped so far, but for how much longer? Neither of those men was worth your life. Why can't we just leave? We could find the troupe we traveled with and join them. They're usually in Alexandria in the autumn. We had nothing then and we were happy.”

John put down the beaker of olive oil he had been about to pour over his greens. “We were young. I can't see you leaping from bulls these days.”

“Why not? You see I haven't lost my archery skills! Of course, I'd need to get back in practice.”

“Broken bones don't heal as quickly when we get older. Besides, what about our daughter and her family? They'll be arriving before long. Where would they go, not to mention Peter and Hypatia?”

“Yes, I suppose I am just dreaming. But couldn't you buy an estate somewhere else?”

“This is the place to which I was exiled. Even if I were allowed to leave, I don't want to draw unwanted attention from Justinian's spies. They would present our flight as evidence of my plotting with enemies of the emperor. After all, I would have plenty of reason to do so.”

“They have long memories, these enemies of yours. I hoped we had left all of that behind when we came to Greece. Apparently they took the next ship after ours. And now Hypatia has been entangled in murder. I have never seen Peter so angry and afraid. Estate owners have some protection by virtue of their holdings, but a servant doesn't.”

“She has my protection and I have told Peter so.”

“As long as you are free. And then what? There is no justice to be had here.”

“It was often much the same in Constantinople, Cornelia. Only there were so many people living there it was more difficult to notice that was the case.”

A discreet cough revealed Peter at the door. “The blacksmith Petrus, Master.”

“You wish to speak to me?” John asked in a weary voice.

“Indeed, sir.” His visitor glanced nervously at Cornelia.

“Continue,” John told him.

Petrus shifted his feet uneasily and looked down at his leather apron. “I was interviewed by the City Defender, sir, but could not shed any light on the, er, matters involved in his investigation. I thought I should let you know that, as I am certain you would wish to consult me about the topic. For as they say…” He trailed away, misery written on his face.

“I believe I know what you intended to say. A loyal and honest servant is worth a fortune. Is that not so?”

“Indeed!” Petrus brightened. “And I assure you I have nothing to tell you about how Diocles came to be near my forge or who killed him or anything at all relating to the event. I…um…thought you would want to know, sir.”

“To save me the trouble of visiting you, no doubt?”

“Indeed.”

“You weren't expecting Diocles? You hadn't arranged a meeting?”

“I work hard, sir, and that time of night I am asleep. But a sound woke me. What, exactly, I can't say, being asleep, until I was awake, you see. Once I was awake it was quiet but I went out to the forge in time to see…well…”

“And Lucian's arrival was a surprise also?”

“Just as much. Well, that is, not so much of a surprise as finding Diocles there, in the condition he was in…I mean, dead. “

“I understand. I appreciate your help, Petrus.”

“Thank you, sir.” Petrus appeared to have gained control of his nervousness. “After all, as I often say, we cannot know what we know unless we first know what we do not know.”

As the blacksmith departed, Cornelia stared at his broad retreating back with undisguised consternation. “What does he mean?”

John shook his head. “A clumsy attempt to curry favor, I presume. Petrus doesn't necessarily want me to leave. A new owner might not want him on the estate.”

“Unless Petrus is working with a new owner to remove you.” Cornelia suggested.

John gave a faint smile. “True enough. One might think you'd spent years at the imperial court.”

Cornelia plucked a fig from the platter and chewed thoughtfully. “I know it's impossible but would it be so difficult traveling with the troupe again?”

“It wouldn't be very difficult if we could move freely.” John thought she looked wistful and changed the subject. “I see you're wearing a most attractive fibula.”

“You noticed! I thought they went well together.”

John had a faraway expression. “They? Went well?”

“My fibula and the silver earrings you brought back from Megara.” She reached over and put her hand on his. Her fingers were sticky from the fig. “Tell me, John. What are you thinking about?”

He saw her expression was stern. “An elaborate fibula. Possibly two of them. Your jewelry jarred my memory. One of the guards I saw in the room behind Halmus' cave was wearing a winged fibula. It reminded me of something then, and now I recall what it was. Diocles wore a similar bronze eagle.”

“And that means…?”

“I've been thinking about smuggling, counterfeiting, illegal weapons, and possibly stolen jewelry. Those fibulas were unusual in design and might have come from the same collection, shared out by colleagues in crime.”

“But why would Diocles have any connection with one of Halmus' guards?”

“It might be that Diocles, like the guard, was employed by Halmus. As overseer Diocles had dealt with Halmus. Diocles knew Petrus. He could hardly avoid knowing him given Petrus also lives on the estate and has repaired its farm implements. And don't forget, as Diocles mentioned, Halmus commissioned work from Petrus. Consider, too, as a blacksmith Petrus would have the equipment needed for the manufacture of illegal weapons.

“Look at how the arsonists were armed with spears and swords. They should not even have had access to them. Then there is that iron shipment someone wanted kept secret. If it were all being used for gates and plows there would be no reason to be so mysterious about its delivery. Not to mention Halmus' guards were armed with swords, thus also breaking the law.”

“You are thinking Diocles was the intended recipient of the notice the iron had arrived, and he would have arranged to have it delivered to Petrus? It would seem then both of them were assisting Halmus in certain matters he would prefer not be known?”

“Halmus is a fraud. According to Peter, the man lied to me about his supposed pilgrimage. His hermit's cave disguises a much larger area. I believe it's used to store illegal goods, otherwise why hide and guard it? I suspect the coin I found there is a counterfeit. It looked remarkably unused to have fallen out of someone's money pouch.”

“And Theophilus?”

John peered down into the bowl of rapidly cooling greens before him but he saw nothing except the tumbling patterns inside his head, glittering tesserae, falling into place, beginning to a form a picture, but one still too full of gaps to make sense. “My stepfather was involved with similar crimes also, as I discovered while I was away. I have no doubt he was one of those concerned in certain matters here.”

Cornelia smiled. “Good!”

John looked at her in perplexity. “What do you mean, good?”

“I mean I would far rather think he was murdered because of a dispute between criminals than that you were the real target.”