This was the effect Pericles had predicted when he outlined his plan, as we stood in his courtyard. Somehow Pericles had managed to turn this crisis into an opportunity to promote himself to the people. I wondered if he’d known this would happen when he first suggested his plan.
The speech had been brilliant. Pericles had announced a crisis, had unflinchingly delivered the bad news it implied, had shown the people a solution, and then given them a party to keep their minds occupied while someone else sorted out the details. I could already see some of the women in the audience discussing what they should wear to the public feasts, while the men were probably thinking about the free wine.
Pericles held up his hand. People realized he had more to say, and they fell silent.
“And now I say to you, go from this place of worship to Dionysos. Continue his celebration in the agora. When we meet here again the stain will be washed from the city and all will be well.”
Pericles had once advised me to avoid acting at all costs, because, he said, “No one in their right mind would vote for an actor.” Pericles may have avoided acting, but he had all the talent needed for a theatrical career.
As he walked past me, Pericles said out of the corner of his mouth, “That’s my part done. Now it’s up to you, Nicolaos. Don’t fail us.”
SCENE 20
As the assembly broke up Diotima and I went straight to Thodis. This was our chance to find out what he knew. “Thodis? Could we speak to you for a moment?”
Thodis looked at me as if I was some spirit raised from the earth.
He said, “You were at the meeting, but I don’t recognize you.”
That surprised me. Had Thodis paid no attention?
“Nicolaos, son of Sophroniscus, and this is my wife,” I said. “I’m the investigator on this case.”
“Then you are the one to blame for all the troubles,” he said.
“I think that would be whoever harmed Phellis and killed Romanos,” Diotima said to him.
Thodis looked at Diotima for a moment, plainly considered not answering her, then said, “But your husband failed to prevent it.”
That was an interesting way of assigning blame, but Thodis was right. I had failed to protect his investment.
I said, “I wanted to ask you, sir, what’s your interest in the theater?”
“I’m paying for the play written by Sophocles. I pay for every mask, every prop, every actor.”
“And yet, sir, you never seem to attend the theater. We’ve been there almost constantly for six days, and we haven’t seen you there even once. It seems strange behavior for a man who loves the theater, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I see.” He considered my words. “I must disillusion you. I have no interest in the theater whatsoever.”
“Then why-”
“Why am I spending such large sums on something I care nothing about?” He flicked away a fly that buzzed about his face. “I was advised by my friends to do so. My father died recently-”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I found it rather convenient actually. You see, I planned a career in politics, but my father wouldn’t permit it.”
“I know that song,” I muttered.
“You too?” he said sympathetically.
“Let’s say I had a similar problem.”
“Did you have to wait for your father to die?” he asked.
“No, I talked him round.”
“Then you were lucky,” he said sourly. “My father was most unreasonable. He insisted I learn to manage our estates. Then he died. As you see I am a man of middle age, yet only now can I begin my true career.”
“Why begin with a play?” Diotima asked.
“My plan is to become the first man in Athens,” said Thodis modestly. “To that end I have studied the career of Pericles most closely. When Pericles entered public life, the first thing he did was provide a play. He was a choregos.”
That was true. Pericles had funded the play called The Persians written by Aeschylus. It was one reason the two were such good friends.
Thodis said, “I reason that if I do what Pericles did, then it follows that I must eventually attain the same position.”
Thodis was fooling himself. He was no Pericles.
“Thus I spent a substantial part of my inheritance on a play to entertain the people. I’m pleased to say that if my father returned from Hades to see what I’m doing, he’d probably have apoplexy and die again.”
I said, “When you said you had no interested in the theater, you really meant it.”
“Yes. My friends advised me that with Aeschylus retiring, Sophocles is the coming man. As Pericles linked his name to Aeschylus, so I should link mine to Sophocles.”
“I see. Then disaster struck. Is this why you’re avoiding the theater?” I asked.
“Yes. I must dissociate myself from the disaster. Don’t take this personally, but I can hardly afford to have my name linked to someone like you.”
“What about the actors in your play?” Diotima asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“There’s someone who needs your help: Phellis, the actor whose leg was smashed.”
Diotima explained that Melpon the doctor was demanding payment for his use of the healing machine. “Phellis is an actor, he hasn’t enough money to pay the doctor to save his leg.”
When she was finished, Thodis said, “I will think upon it, and I will take advice from my friends. I must say this is hardly my problem.”
“He was injured working on your play.”
“He was hired for the duration of the play, was he not?”
“Well, yes,” Diotima said.
“If you hired an artisan to paint your house, and a third party came along and injured the painter as he worked, you wouldn’t be responsible, would you?”
“Well, no,” Diotima admitted.
“I feel sure the actor’s correct course of action would be to sue the man who injured him.”
“That would be the man who also killed Romanos.”
“Then perhaps you should catch him?” Thodis suggested. “Then you could put your request to the correct source.”
I asked, “Is there anyone you do want to associate with?”
He puffed out his cheeks. “Well, naturally I’ve entertained Sophocles.”
“Naturally,” I said.
“My friends suggested I should also entertain the lead actor. What do they call themselves? Protagonists, yes, that’s right. They tell me that protagonists are important people.”
“I like to think so,” I said.
“Lakon proved to be an entertaining companion, a most charming man. Sophocles less so. He seemed a trifle uncomfortable. All he wanted to talk about was plays and writing.”
“Sad.”
“I thought so. There was no such difficulty with Lakon. He’s a man I could introduce to my friends with no risk of embarrassment.”
I made a mental note to discover who these friends were, so I could avoid them.
Thodis was still speaking. “In fact, I invited Lakon to dine with me on more than one occasion. He has a collection of amusing stories that he tells very well. My other guests were in stitches of laughter. He and his friend Romanos are valuable companions-”
“WHAT!” Diotima and I roared simultaneously, so loudly that Thodis staggered backward. He looked ready to run.
“I’m sorry, Thodis,” Diotima said quickly. “You startled us with your last comment.”
“And you startled me with yours!”
“Thodis, did you say Romanos was a friend of Lakon?” I asked carefully.
Thodis blinked in surprise. “Lakon arrived at one of my symposia arm in arm with Romanos. Of course to receive a guest of a guest is a time-honored tradition. This is how one enlarges one’s circle of connections. I had no objection. I’m not sure why you ask.”
“I ask because I was given to understand that Lakon never socialized with Romanos. You heard Lakon say so himself, at the noon meeting.”