‘Wait here. Don’t move until I come to get you.’
They say fortune favours the bold. I begged the goddess of luck to help me, and any other deity who might be listening. Leaving Zosime at the table and praying that she’d do as I asked, I slipped through the crowds. I only wanted to get close enough to hear something, anything, to give us a hint about the killer. Some scrap of conversation that might tell us where to go to learn more.
As long as they didn’t look round, I should be safe. They had no reason to think they were being watched. If they did turn, if I was seen, then I’d take to my heels, as fast as Hermes in his winged sandals. I wouldn’t care about people looking. Far from it. I’d want every eye on me. Nikandros and his friend could hardly cut my throat in front of a street full of witnesses.
Whatever they were discussing, Nikandros was getting agitated. His hands waved with increasingly animated gestures. The man with the broken arm walked stolidly beside him, barely answering. Then, all of a sudden, he grabbed Nikandros’s tunic and forced the arrogant youth into a narrow side street.
I clenched my fists and sprinted to the corner of the building at the mouth of the alley. I felt sick as I recognised the voice of the man who’d tried to kill me two nights ago.
‘If you want any more silver from me, you snivelling little bastard, you’ll do what I tell you!’
‘Iktinos—’ Nikandros choked on a gurgle.
That was so utterly unexpected that I looked around the corner before I realised what I was doing. I caught a glimpse of Nikandros pushed up hard against the wall, the other man’s hand around his throat. Even using one arm, this Iktinos was astonishingly strong, powerful enough to lift the young idiot off his feet. Nikandros was on his tiptoes, expensive sandals scrabbling in the dust.
‘Do you understand me?’ Iktinos shook him like a dog with a rat.
I half expected to hear Nikandros’s neck snap. As it was, he gasped some sort of assent.
Satisfied, Iktinos released him. ‘Then I’ll see you at the Academy, at sunset.’
I’d heard enough. More than enough. I shrank back, my heart pounding. An instant later, I hurried away, trying to put every man and woman on the street between me and that alley. As soon as I reached the sanctuary of the friendly tavern, I shrank onto my stool, cowering behind the wine jug.
‘Did they see me? Can you see them?’
Zosime ate an olive, reluctantly amused. ‘No, and no.’
I sat up a little straighter and poured myself a cup of wine. My heart was still racing and my mouth was as dry as the deserts of Egypt. The wine quenched my thirst, though I had to fight to calm my shaking hand enough to drink it.
‘Well?’ Zosime prompted.
‘I heard his name.’ I managed a smile.
‘So?’ She looked at me, expectant.
I took a deep breath. ‘Now we go home.’ I nodded at the portrait she’d sketched, the ink now dry. ‘When we’ve found out what that can tell us, I’ll take everything we’ve learned to Aristarchos.’
Zosime gave me a long, contemplative look. Finally, she nodded. ‘Very well.’
We walked back to the pottery first, to collect Kadous. I wasn’t leaving Zosime at home on her own, even if I was convinced Nikandros and his murderous friend hadn’t seen us. Though, judging by what I’d seen in the alley, their relationship was rather more complicated than well-born paymaster and hired killer. That gave me plenty to think about on the walk back to Alopeke.
As we turned past the Hermes pillar, I straightened my cloak and my tunic and brushed a hand over my hair.
‘You look thoroughly respectable,’ Zosime assured me.
Kadous grunted his agreement, walking a few paces behind us just as a biddable slave should, and carrying my scrivener’s bag.
As we approached our gate, I turned and held out my hand. Kadous gave me the portrait of Nikandros. Then he and Zosime went to stand on our threshold while I crossed the lane to knock on Mikos’s doorpost.
The little slave Alke opened up. She was so surprised to see me that she just stood there, gaping.
‘Is your master at home?’ I asked formally. ‘Please tell him Philocles Hestaiou has urgent business to discuss.’
‘Of course.’ Her voice rose in a startled squeak as she closed the gate in my face.
I wondered how long I’d have to wait. I glanced at the Hermes pillar and prayed to the god of messengers that Mikos wouldn’t just ignore my request and punish Alke for relaying it.
A few moments later, the gate opened and I saw that Mikos’s curiosity had got the better of him.
‘What do you want?’
‘To talk to your wife, in your presence naturally,’ I said with measured politeness.
Now Mikos was really puzzled. ‘What about?’
‘You must recall the dead man left at my gate.’ I unrolled the papyrus in my hand. ‘We believe this may be one of his killers. I wish to ask your wife if she saw anything that night. Perhaps she can identify this man.’
‘I don’t want her involved. We don’t know who that is.’ Mikos didn’t even look at the picture I held up. ‘I don’t want to get mixed up in any trouble.’
That was true enough and I could hardly say it came as any surprise. It was a safe bet that the next time Mikos heard some disturbance out in the lane he’d head for his house’s innermost room. He’d be shutting his eyes and sticking his fingers in his ears, while better men than him had their throats cut. I wanted to beat the sweaty coward’s face into a bloody ruin.
Instead I took a deep breath, to make certain I could continue speaking in a calm and even tone. ‘Then everyone at the next district council meeting will learn how Mikos Theocritou
