room in hot pursuit of this one-man army of destruction.
The innkeeper had been standing over an open barrel of soaking linen. They use urine in those tubs to get the cloth clean. He’d been pushed from behind and gone in headfirst. He’d hauled himself out, spluttering angrily, when I came through the door and knocked him back in again. I yelled, “Sorry!” but didn’t stop.
The stranger hit the back wall running and scrambled over it like a frightened hare. I jumped, grabbed the ledge, and hauled myself over. He was away down the street. We were on one of the major thoroughfares now, it was a clear run for both of us and I would chase him all the way to Megara via Eleusis if I had to.
He must have realized he’d be stopped at the city gates because he turned north back into the narrow streets. He was slowing; I was gaining. He made the mistake of turning into an alley that I knew doubled back. I jumped the wall and landed square on top of him. He collapsed beneath my weight and we both fell into a pile of garbage.
“Now I have you, you bastard!” I turned him over and pulled back my fist to knock him senseless. His headdress came off, and I stared, dumbstruck, my fist hovering.
“Get off me, you oaf!” she grunted. “Well, are you going to help me up?”
I hauled her out of the garbage. Now that her headdress had fallen away it was obvious, despite the loose clothing, that she was a young woman.
We sat with our backs to the wall, catching our breath. I didn’t think she had the energy to run any further, but I stayed to the exit side in case she decided to try it.
“And what do you think you’re doing running around the streets, a respectable woman like you?” This wasn’t some dirty street girl-well, at the moment she was, but that obviously wasn’t her norm-she spoke with an upper- class accent, and if you removed the grime she would probably look like any well-brought-up maiden. Her hair was tied back, dark and curly, and washed. Her face was feminine, with a thin nose and full lips. Her breasts were full, and clearly outlined through the material. She had rubbed dirt about her face for disguise, but close up I could see her skin was clean at her hairline. Her hands likewise had been rubbed in dirt, but her clipped fingernails and the lack of abrasions or scars gave her away. Whoever this girl was, she wasn’t a slave, and her family wasn’t poor. She was also in outstanding condition; I’d had to work hard to run her to ground.
“I’m investigating the murder of Ephialtes.”
I laughed. “You? All you’ve been doing is following me about, and you didn’t even do that well. I spotted you every time.”
“I’ve done a lot more than that! Someone has to avenge my father. I have no brother to act for me, and you’re not showing any signs of doing it.” She glared at me. “My name is Diotima. That’s Diotima of Mantinea.”
I had a terrible sinking feeling. “You’re…you’re…”
“The daughter of Ephialtes and Euterpe of Mantinea, and I’m priestess-in-training to the Goddess Artemis the Huntress.”
All I could think of to say was, “You don’t look like your mother.” That was a mistake.
“Well you’d know, wouldn’t you? All you did was sit there and ogle her.”
“You were there?”
“I handed you that watercooler. See what I mean? You don’t remember me at all, do you?”
“No,” I admitted. But now that I thought about it I had a vague recollection Euterpe had called someone Diotima.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, the way you behaved around her? She’s old enough to be your mother.”
“I have an idea she likes it that way, and I’m not sure she’d welcome the reminder about her age.”
“Aargh. All right then, let’s try and pretend that embarrassing incident never happened. Now, tell me everything you’ve discovered.”
“So you can go tearing around Athens again? I don’t think so.” I had no reason to trust her, and every reason to think she was acting for her mother, who was a suspect.
She sat there thinking about what I’d said.
“You want the glory of finding the killer for yourself, don’t you? Do you have some kind of deal with Pericles?”
This was so close to the truth that I blushed. She grinned.
“Then we trade. I can tell you where Archestratus was during the murder.”
“Where?” I asked eagerly.
“Oh no! First, you tell me what you got from Xanthippus. I haven’t been able to talk to him.”
I had no choice but to deal with her. “Xanthippus was at the scene. He lured your father there.”
“I know that. Tell me something I don’t know. You say ‘lured’ as if you think he’s involved.”
“He says he had nothing to do with it. He might be telling the truth, there’s no evidence one way or the other, but if he’s innocent he’s had incredible bad luck to be in the most suspicious spot. It was Xanthippus who sent me to Archestratus. He suggested a leadership fight.”
Diotima pursed her lips and thought about that. I could see the calculations flowing through her mind.
“Archestratus is framing Xanthippus?” she asked.
“Or Xanthippus is the murderer and throwing suspicion on Archestratus, or someone else is framing Xanthippus, or Xanthippus is plain unlucky.”
“Too many options. But no one carries a bow in town. Father’s death was planned. And the planner must have known where he was going to be.”
“Which brings us back to Xanthippus.”
“Or Archestratus, if Father happened to mention the meeting to him. Or maybe any other high up member of the democratic movement. It could be Pericles.”
I shook my head. “I saw him immediately after and he had no bow.” Then I pulled myself up. “Wait a minute, I didn’t agree to tell you that.”
Diotima said primly, “You offered me free product. If you regret it now, that’s your problem. But I owe you for Xanthippus, so yes, on to Archestratus. He was alone, somewhere out on the streets. He doesn’t have an alibi.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I haven’t been sitting around doing nothing. A respectable priestess has the freedom to walk around town as long as she’s decent.” I choked on that last comment, but forbore from pointing out that at the moment she looked more like the worst kind of porne.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking, but a respectable priestess is not supposed to be following strange men, and my position at the temple means everything to me. The last thing I want is to end up like my mother. I had to dress like this whenever I wanted to know what you were up to, who you were talking to. It was a shock when you came to visit Mother! I thought I was the only one asking questions. I couldn’t let you get information I didn’t have, so I had to see anyone you talked to.”
“How did you find out about Archestratus?”
“I asked his house slave, of course. Slaves see things about people but they never let on, and no one ever notices them. He told me Archestratus walks every morning. He always takes a different route.”
“That’s interesting.” But what Diotima said reminded me of something else, something I couldn’t quite recall. What was it? Slaves see things. So they do, but what other slaves could have seen something? The slaves at the Areopagus hadn’t seen a thing, they’d been atop the-I put a stop on that interesting thought before my expression gave me away to Diotima.
“Can Archestratus use a bow?” I changed the subject.
“I don’t know. I asked, but it’s not the sort of thing his house slaves would know. Maybe if we can find someone he’s hunted with we can ask them.”
“Where was your mother that morning?”
“At home, of course. You know that.”
“I don’t know if she was there the whole time.”
“I left the house early myself. I have temple duties every morning.”
“And you didn’t see Euterpe?”
“Does my mother strike you as an early riser?”
