John pointed out that Georgios had made certain the travesty of a hearing was technically fair. “Unfortunately,” he continued, “the thread I found in Lechaion involved my stepfather’s doings, so I disliked touching it. I haven’t had an opportunity to examine the mysterious scrap of parchment yet. It’s going to take some care and good light.”
“It’s that difficult to make out?”
“Not the writing on top, but what’s underneath. Theophilus or someone associated with him hid that message about the iron shipment under the writing on the wax. The same general method may have been used.”
“What are the words you can read about?”
“That legend I related to you. The usual nonsense. Alexis, who studies that sort of thing, told me he had never seen any reliable accounts.”
Cornelia looked thoughtful. “Are you sure it’s nonsense? Julius, one of the slaves you freed, told me that Diocles had the slaves digging around the temple.”
“Preparing to repair the foundation.”
“Julius claimed that was a pretext. The slaves knew very well Diocles was hoping they would find valuables.”
“This fantasy is spreading through Megara like a plague. Everyone’s infected.” John let his gaze climb up through the branches of the olive tree. “And yet…the priests passed what they rescued into the care of she who wails her daughter, the unwilling bride.”
Cornelia gave him a questioning look.
“It’s part of what is visible on Theophilus’ document,” John explained. “‘She who wails her daughter’ would be Demeter, whose daughter Persephone was kidnapped by Hades.”
“So Theophilus must have thought the treasure was buried at the temple of Demeter on the estate?”
“He might have, but Demeter was popular in this area. There must be hundreds of ancient shrines and places associated with her around here. I believe it explains how he happened to be at the temple when he was killed.”
“Do you suppose Theophilus told Diocles about the possibility of the cache being buried at our temple?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Theophilus was involved in all manner of activities.”
“You think it likely Theophilus was killed in connection with the illicit business dealings you learned about while you were away?”
“It’s a risk criminals always take.” He saw the doubt in her face. “I’m certain I wasn’t the target, Cornelia. I know you’re worried about that.”
“He was killed at the temple on your estate. Why here? Why not in Lechaion?”
“His murderer may well live locally. It seems likely Theophilus had dealings in Megara. Until we arrived, the ruined temple would have made a good meeting place, isolated as it is, and considering how little attention Diocles paid to what was happening on the estate. A meeting might have been scheduled weeks ago, with no time to notify anyone else concerned of our suddenly taking up residence. Fellow criminals don’t necessarily want to tell each other where they live.”
Cornelia still looked displeased. “I can tell you’ve been thinking about the situation at length, but I still can’t help wondering if the murderer was trying to harm you. Even if he didn’t mistake Theophilus for you, he may have killed him on your land to cast suspicion on you, which, I may add, he’s clearly accomplished.”
“Suspicion is one thing, but-”
“Suspicion may be all that’s necessary, given the quality of justice you’ve just witnessed in Megara, John!”
She was right, which was one reason John disliked the feeling of having lost a day. He needed to locate the culprit while he still had a chance. “Theophilus was involved in smuggling. It’s not like simple robbery. Quite a number of people have to cooperate and those deals often fall apart for one reason or another. I have to make inquiries locally.”
“You mentioned counterfeiting. There’s a blacksmith on the estate not far from where we are, nor the temple ruins for that matter.”
John had hoped she wouldn’t have realized Petrus, living so close by, was a natural suspect. “Let’s not leap to conclusions. There are other blacksmiths in Megara and an endless variety of goods to smuggle. Another possibility is the man responsible might not be from the area. He might live in Lechaion too, but arranged to kill Theophilus away from the scene of their work together, so as to attract less attention there.”
“Illegal activities, murderers on the loose, townspeople possessed by demons! Not the quiet country life we envisioned, is it?”
“Cornelia…”
She held her arms out. “Don’t say anything John. Help me up into this tree so I can see the view of the world you had as a boy.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Rumors went around the marketplace, a slight breeze turning up the undersides of leaves before the storm broke.
“The new estate owner is visiting Megara again!”
“It’s rumored he’s been making human sacrifices!”
“The City Defender suspects him of murder!”
“Why is he allowed to go free?”
Word of his arrival preceded him. Ears trained to hear picked up half-whispered conversations. Practiced eyes found the tall, slender figure as he skirted the marketplace.
He went down several side streets. The observer was nothing more than another evening shadow.
This time the quarry did not cut down an alley.
The observer saw John go up the stairs to the door of a modest dwelling in a three-story building faced in stucco.
***
Leonidas opened the door. “John, I wanted to tell you before you came in, my wife, well, she-”
“She does not wish you to be associated with a dangerous pariah like myself.”
Leonidas looked embarrassed. “I know she’s being foolish.”
“Not at all. It is dangerous. She is wise to be cautious.”
“I’m sorry, John. I am happy to help an old friend, but women worry and she is my wife. You understand.…”
“I shall make this visit as brief as possible.”
They went inside. Helena could be heard in the kitchen. She did not bring wine. John observed the Tower of Babel had risen two or three stories since his last visit.
Leonidas brought him several sheets covered with numbers and notations. “I’ve copied the tax records for you. I apologize for the writing. I’m no scribe! But as you’ll see, everything is in order.”
“Thank you, Leonidas. No question of missing entries or alterations then?”
“No, at least not this morning. While I was consulting the documents, I learned your estate was owned for a long time by an absentee senatorial family. It seems this family has, over many years, bought up adjacent land whenever it became available. It has never been productive and I have no notion why they would wish to own it.”
“Yes, it belonged to Senator Vinius. He lived in Constantinople.”
“I imagine, given the over-crowding in the capital, owning a large area of open land might be attractive. Perhaps he’d planned to retire here?”
“Or he was just given bad advice when seeking to buy land.”
John could sense his friend’s unease, so much different than his first visit when it had seemed it might be easy to slip back into their old camaraderie.
As John turned to leave, Helena emerged from the kitchen. Leonidas raised a warning hand but she ignored him.
“John,” she said, “my husband and I have disagreed about this but my feeling is it’s only right you should know what happened with your mother. Since Leonidas is reluctant to tell you, I shall.”
“I was just going,” John told her. “I won’t bother you again until the trouble has passed.”
“Oh, that’s a fine thing to hear! You’re more interested in your tax records than your mother!”
Leonidas was appalled. “Helen, please…”
“A man ought to know about his family,” she said. “Even if he doesn’t want to know. If a man wants to avoid his past he shouldn’t come around disturbing friends from his past.”