John pointed out as owner he was legally responsible for any criminal activities on the estate.
“Indeed,” came the reply. “But if nobody knows about any so-called misdeeds, where is the responsibility? You don’t have to contribute anything but your silence. That’s the only assistance I give. I told father I would not join him and his associates. He therefore tells me nothing.”
“Nevertheless, the emperor’s laws are being broken.”
“I am surprised you would care about the emperor who has exiled you, sir. But as a matter of fact, the City Defender is the law in Megara, not the emperor.”
“Only if the emperor allows Georgios to have free rein.”
“Besides, I am more concerned with your welfare than the emperor. It would suit us all for you to remain here and for the whole situation to be stable.”
“And Peter is very old and may soon leave Hypatia a widow,” John suggested.
“I am not ashamed to admit I recognize the truth of that, sir. But, think, your silence would change nothing. Matters would simply go on as they always have, which is what everyone wants. Leave us to live our lives and we will leave you to live yours.”
***
“Stop right there, John. Don’t take another step. Turn around. Now,” Cornelia continued crossly, “straight to the bath. I’ll bring you fresh clothes.”
He was sluicing muck off himself when she arrived with a fresh tunic and boots. Cornelia dropped the clothing on a bench and stood by the side of the basin. “You’re even filthier than you were after your visit to Halmus. I don’t even like to think where you’ve been this time, although from the smell I would guess a cesspool.”
John described his search of Lucian’s farm and his encounter with Philip, all the while scrubbing himself diligently.
“Do you think Philip intends to try to reconcile his father and the others with you?”
“Just empty talk, I hope. If he tells Lucian about finding me at the weapons cache…well…” John dipped his head into the water gingerly, to wet his hair and avoid saying anything further.
“It’s all very well, unraveling these criminal enterprises, but who killed Theophilus and Diocles? Do you have any notion?”
Chapter Forty-four
“It seems strange Philip would allow you to live given what you had just found out,” Cornelia remarked as they emerged into the sticky heat of midmorning.
“For now, perhaps. Of course, I could still be killed and thrown into the sea and who knows where I would be found?” John pointed out.
“I wonder if he is right and the City Defender is corrupt?” Cornelia mused. “Even so, it seems the City Defender does not suspect anyone other than you in the death of your stepfather. Yet I wonder about that. Diocles was killed at the forge and, by what Hypatia said, Lucian arrived not long after she discovered the body. Does this not seem suspicious?”
John paused. “Now you remind me of what Hypatia said about the incident, it strikes me she mentioned the forge was glowing. Why had the blacksmith not dowsed his fire for the night?”
“It seems obvious to me, John. He was doing secret work that could not be done in the daytime in case you made an unannounced visit.”
“And either could have killed Diocles or, for that matter, Theophilus. On the other hand, they too had every reason to prevent visits from the authorities to the estate. Is it too much of a leap to make to assume the two deaths are in some way connected?”
“Much is hidden at this point,” Cornelia pointed out.
They came to a sagging wooden fence fitted with an extravagant decorative metal gate featuring swirling designs and loops.
“This must be the gate Petrus complained about, the one that caused ill feeling between him and Theophilus,” Cornelia observed.
“It’s not the one I remember.” John pushed the gate open with difficulty caused by vines that had found the fancy ironwork a handy trellis. Looking around, he added, “It feels unfamiliar, changed in some fashion.”
Cornelia took his arm. “Does it? Perhaps you are the one who has changed. And now are you going to show me around your old home?”
“It’s just an old farmhouse, but there is something I’d like you to see. I thought of it last night.” He pointed to a clump of trees just visible from where they stood. “Leonidas, Alexis, and I sometimes camped out overnight among those trees. We pretended to be guarding the empire, represented by that barn. Many a foray we made during the dark hours, fighting off enemies bent on stealing the empire’s eggs.”
Taking her hand, he led her into the clump of trees he had pointed out. Its canopy closed overhead but the dense growth soon opened out to disclose a clearing where sunlight streamed down over an octagonal kiosk.
“How lovely! And it has a wind vane!” Cornelia declared.
“My father built this at my mother’s request. She told me it was a reminder of a visit they took to Athens in the early years of their marriage. She had been particularly impressed by the Horologion. She spent a lot of time here when the work was done. Perhaps it was because it brought back memories of my father. In any event, here it is.”
They stood in front of the structure, staring up at the wind vane. It barely moved.
“It was not possible to obtain a copy of the fish-tailed sea god vane or the depictions of the gods of wind they had seen on the original structure, but it is a close enough re-creation to make my mother happy. And as for me, I spent a lot of time alone here reading,” John continued.
“A perfect hiding place for a studious boy,” Cornelia replied. “Shall we go in?”
“Speaking of which,” John said as he followed her into the low-ceilinged interior, “between Leonidas’ unfortunate attempt to hide his collection of coins and then the search of Petrus’ house for evidence of wrongdoing, I remembered another hiding place last night.”
He dragged a short bench away from the wall to the center of the room, stood on it, ran a hand along the ceiling, and pushed one of its planks up and to the side. “My friends and I used to leave messages here for each other, so the grownups wouldn’t know. We were spies for the emperor then and our parents were the Persians. But grownups usually do know about their children’s secrets. It occurred to me Theophilus might have made use of it.”
He groped around in the cavity in the ceiling. “Mithra!” he exclaimed and brought out a flat, circular bronze mold. “Here is definite evidence counterfeiting is being carried out on the estate. It certainly wasn’t hidden here when I was a boy. Look, you can see that’s Justinian’s face.” He leaned over to hand the mold to Cornelia. “And there are one or two bags of what feel like coins hidden here as well.”
“Theophilus recalled your hiding place after so many years?”
“Of course he did. No doubt he relished the fact he knew our secrets, or thought he did. It must have been a fond memory. He probably enjoyed the idea the stepson who hated him was assisting him in his illicit dealings by handing him such a fine place to hide his own secrets.”
More of John’s arm vanished into the hole. There was a scraping noise and he moved a short board from one side of the opening to the other.
“Ah, but was my stepfather clever enough to know there is a hiding place behind the hiding place where our real messages were placed?”
His face clouded. “Perhaps he was. There’s a box here!”
Stepping down he wiped dust from its plain unfinished wood with his sleeve, cut the cord holding down the lid, and opened it. He lifted out a sheet of parchment and scanned its writing.
Mithra!” he said again, but so faintly it was little more than an exhalation. “I have not searched for my mother, but she has found me.” He gave the parchment to Cornelia. “This is her will.”
Its few lines left the farm to John, should he return to Megara before her death. If he did not, the land was to go to Saint Stephen’s Monastery “in recognition,” his mother had stated, “of the godly works they do for the sick, bereaved, and poor.”