Socrates: I believe you said that the piece of fat which we saw in the rubble was sacrificial lamb?
Aristodemus: I would say so. And we saw Tydeus sacrificing, did we not?
Socrates: We saw him praying. Do you recall that the bronzed fellow told us that when first he saw Tydeus, he asked Tydeus if he were going to swim?
Aristodemus: Yes, I remember.
Socrates: And would it not be an exceedingly odd question to ask of a man who was carrying a sacrifice?
Aristodemus: That is true, Socrates; but what does it mean?
Socrates: You recall, too, that you spoke of Tydeus as a Pythagorean?
Aristodemus: Yes, I know that he was.
Socrates: Then perhaps you will also remember that, among Pythagoreans, it is a custom never to offer living sacrifice, or to kill any animal that does not harm man?
Aristodemus: I had forgotten, Socrates. And I see now that it could not have been possible that Tydeus intended to sacrifice.
Socrates: Yet we saw a piece of lamb, did we not? How else could we account for it, if it were not brought to be sacrificed?
Aristodemus: It seems unaccountable.
Socrates: Do you remember where you saw it?
Aristodemus: It was on the hand of Eros.
Socrates: And so, also, was the hawk. Does that not suggest another reason for the fat?
Aristodemus: Why, yes! It must have been placed on the hand as bait for the bird!
Socrates: Clearly, that is what was intended. And I think it must have been fastened there in some manner, for the hawk did not pick it up and fly off, but rather balanced himself on the fingertips and pulled at it until the statue was overbalanced.
The two had walked, in their preoccupation, to the very steps of the altar before the Shrine of Apollo Lyceus. The eastern doors of the marble sanctuary were still open, and they could see the god within, gold and ivory, gleaming softly now in the full morning light.
But at that moment they heard shouts from a footpath on their right, and they saw the bronzed athlete running toward them. He pulled up abruptly and panted heavily.
“He’s dead, Socrates! Euchecrates is dead! I found him at Tydeus’s house, in the doorway. He’d hanged himself from a porch beam!”
Socrates: Are you certain Euchecrates took his own life?
Athlete: Quite certain, Socrates. For he had scrawled a message on the wall, and I recognized his writing.
Socrates: What was his message?
Athlete: “Hide me in a secret place.” Does not that mean he was ashamed?
Socrates: That is so.
“Who wishes to be hidden?” asked a woman’s voice, and the three men turned to see Alecto, the priestess of the shrine, slowly and gracefully descending the marble steps.
Socrates: Euchecrates, who has killed himself, Alecto.
Alecto: It is indeed a dreadful thing to hear, Socrates.
Aristodemus: Oh, there is more! See where the statue has fallen? Tydeus lies dead beneath it.
Alecto: He must have displeased Eros mightily to have been felled by the god’s own image!
Aristodemus: No, I think it fell because Euchecrates contrived that it should.
Alecto: How could it have been contrived, Aristodemus?
Socrates: Alecto, we came to ask you for some water which we will take to the Lyceum, for there are those of us who have not yet purified ourselves.
The priestess nodded and left. She returned in a few moments with a vessel of water.
Socrates: I should have asked also on behalf of this young man, so that he may take some to the place where he found Euchecrates.
Athlete: No, there is not need of that; for there was water there.
Socrates: Indeed? Then, Alecto, who preceded us with such a request?
Alecto: For water? Why, no one.
Socrates: Can purificatory water be simply drawn out of a well, or a pool, or any other ordinary source?
Alecto: No, of course it must be obtained from a priest or a priestess.
Socrates: And there is no other priest or priestess so close to the house of Tydeus, where Euchecrates lies?
Alecto: No, I am the closest.
Socrates: Then can we not assume the water was obtained here? Do you not recall such a request?
Alecto: Only that of Tydeus, several hours ago. I didn’t know why he asked for water, but it would now seem to be for that reason.
Socrates: And we know also from this, do we not, Aristodemus, that Euchecrates was already dead when Tydeus went to pray to Eros? Tell me, Alecto, when Tydeus came for water, do you recall that he asked for anything else?
Alecto: I recall nothing else.
Socrates: Tydeus had told this young man that he could not stand and talk with him, since he wished to complete his prayers before the sun’s rise. Does that not indicate that Tydeus knew beforehand that his prayers would be of some length?
Alecto: Yes, surely it does.
Socrates: And since he stayed to complete them even though the sun had already risen, and was not even distracted from his intentions by the presence and noise of the bird, what is the likely conclusion?
Aristodemus: I would say that he had a particular prayer to complete.
Socrates: Excellent. That would be my conclusion. Now, Alecto, do you think it likely that a young man still angry from a quarrel — indeed distraught — would sit down and compose a lengthy prayer?
Alecto: He would be more likely to pray spontaneously.
Socrates: But these things seem not to agree. The prayer, we may suppose, was planned beforehand; yet the young man was not prepared to plan the prayer. What may we surmise, then?
Alecto: That someone else composed the prayer for him?
Socrates: I believe so. And who would be likely to have done that?
Alecto: It would be someone expert in such matters, no doubt.
Socrates: Such as a priest or priestess?
Alecto: Yes, it must be so.
Socrates: And since Tydeus called, as you have said, upon yourself, Alecto, does it not seem inevitable that he asked you to compose his prayer?
Alecto: I am compelled to admit he did just that, Socrates.
Socrates: And one last matter: You were sacrificing lamb here at dawn?
Alecto: Yes, lamb and honey.
Socrates: And where is the fat of the Iamb which you sacrificed this morning, Alecto? While Tydeus was within memorizing his prayer, did you not go down to the statue of Eros and affix some of the fat to that extended hand?
Alecto: You have a daemon advising you, Socrates!
Aristodemus: Oh, no, Alecto. It is as Cebes has said: Socrates can put a question to a person in such a way that only the true answer comes out! But, Alecto, how did Tydeus dare come to you?
Alecto: He did not know that it was to me his friend Euchecrates had given his gifts. But when Tydeus confessed to me that he had caused my lover’s suicide, I could not but avenge the death!
The priestess turned her cold eyes proudly on Socrates. “I was named Alecto for good reason,” she said with fierce triumph; “for like that divine Alecto, the Well-Wisher, I too found myself singled out by the gods to wreak vengeance!”
“But remember,” cautioned Socrates quietly, “we call the divine Alecto the ‘well-wisher’ only to placate her. She is still one of the Furies. She still pursues the blood-guilty to death or madness. And think, Alecto: You are only mortal, and you have done murder.”
Alecto’s eyes widened with the sudden, horrible knowledge of her own fate.
The priestess wept then, and drew the heavy black coils of hair about her face like a shroud.
The Big Tipper
by Hartzell Spence[2]
Most readers will remember Hartzell Spence as the author of that delightful bestseller, ONE FOOT IN HEAVEN. Nearly all of Mr. Spence’s work is characterized by religious feeling — which is not surprising, since Mr. Spence is the son of a minister. But the man who was the officer-in-charge of “Yank” during the war, the major who got fired for writing an editorial his boss-general didn’t like, is capable of writing a story with no religious flavor in it at all. Such a story is “The Big Tipper” — an extremely amusing and ingenious tale of high-stake gambling in Monte Carlo, which to some people is a kind of heaven, and to others a kind of hell... “The Big Tipper” is an unusual story to appear in EQMM. There is no detection, and in a strict sense, there is not even any crime. But there is a fascinating mystery — about Monsieur Chapuyt and his incredible run of luck at the Casino and his fabulous tipping of the croupier — princely sums night after night!