He looked at me as if I’d taken leave of all my wits. ‘That I didn’t, citizen. Though I knew that one had been. Your wife and slave both came here yesterday, and I called to assure them that I’d seen you safe and well. .’
‘Of course!’ I murmured apologetically, selecting a particularly pretty piece of bluestone from the pile.
He ignored that observation, and went on, ‘But when Glypto came to me this morning with this tale, naturally I assumed that they were right and I was wrong, and you’d come to some harm after you left here. And when he spoke of hearing someone on your premises, obviously I supposed that it was one of them come back. So what would be the point of sending to your house?’
It was my turn to boggle. ‘Wait a moment. Let me understand. Glypto heard this after my wife and son were here?’
He gave the ugly grin that showed his solitary tooth. ‘Haven’t I just said so, citizen?’
I put the bluestone down and shook my head in disbelief. ‘But this morning I was at the bulla ceremony of my grandchild at my house, and anyone who knows me knew that I was there. Even my customers attended or sent gifts. Who could possibly have come here to the shop?’
The tanner made that spreading gesture with his hands again. ‘Probably there wasn’t anyone at all. I told you it was only one of Glypto’s tales — and he’s half-crazy with the tanning fumes. He gets these things confused. He half-heard something from the courtyard in the dusk, I expect, and invented all these tales of people prowling in the dark. Convinced himself, I shouldn’t be surprised.’ He shook his head. ‘Perhaps my wife is right, and I should sell him on.’
But I was hardly listening. ‘In the dark?’ I echoed. This wasn’t making sense. ‘I thought you said “this morning”?’
‘That’s when I heard of it.’
‘But Glypto heard something from the courtyard “in the dusk”. What was he doing there?’ I had visions of him sending the old slave out at night on purpose to spy on my workshop through the gate.
However, I was disabused of that. The tanner looked abashed. ‘My wife had left him out there as a punishment. She was so angry with him for staying out so long when he was supposed to be with you yesterday that she put him on short rations and shut him out all night. Gave him a pallet in the courtyard and told him to keep watch — that’s how he came to hear the noise, or he says he did. He only half-hears things at the best of times.’
‘What noise was this?’ I was more and more intrigued. Was this the famous green man come again?
My neighbour shook his head. ‘Pay no attention, pavement-maker. I should have known that it was just his foolishness. You are clearly fit and well, so what does it matter what he thinks he heard? Very likely it was fancy, and there was no one here at all.’
‘All the same, I’d like to talk to him,’ I said. ‘I believe he sometimes sees more things than you suppose.’
A strange expression crossed the tanner’s face. ‘For instance, he insists that he saw the army calling here and taking a body from your workshop, just after he came back from giving you the coals.’ He looked at me slyly. ‘In fact, I thought I saw the cart myself and the soldiers putting something into it, though I could not be certain that it was a corpse. After all, as I said to my wife, surely you would have mentioned it to us if you had a dead man on the premises — especially since you came to borrow light and coals from us.’
I wondered how best to answer that without insulting him. ‘But if there was a body, you knew it wasn’t me,’ I said, evading his unspoken question by asking one myself. ‘Because you saw me leaving later on? So when my family arrived, convinced that I was hurt, naturally you were very curious?’
He seemed oblivious of any suggestion that he might have been deliberately spying on my shop. ‘Exactly,’ he went on in his curious cracked tone, ‘and when I visited the shop — only to reassure your wife, of course — there was no sign that there had been any death at all, and your family clearly had no idea of one.’ He sighed and made a small dismissive gesture with his hands. ‘So I decided that Glypto was at his tricks again — which only goes to prove it’s no good asking him. So I shouldn’t bother, citizen.’ He paused. ‘Unless, of course, there’s something which I don’t know about?’
So that was it. He knew about the cart and he was offering to trade: information about the identity of the corpse in exchange for a chance to ask Glypto what he’d heard.
I abandoned all pretence at sorting stones and sighed. This tale would be all over Glevum before dusk. ‘Well, it is a little difficult. .’ I began, thinking uncomfortably of Pedronius. ‘It’s a delicate matter and not wholly mine to share.’
He interrupted me. ‘It concerns that decurion who came here yesterday, I suppose. People in high places — is that it, citizen?’ He tapped his nose as if to indicate that he could keep a secret if he chose.
I clutched at the straw that he was offering. ‘Well, in a fashion, I suppose it is.’ It was not entirely a lie. Quintus could certainly be said to be involved. If the tanner chose to think there was something more to this and that I was somehow acting on the decurion’s behalf, that was hardly my responsibility — or so I told myself.
My neighbour was looking expectantly at me. ‘The body of one of the rebels from the wood, perhaps? I wondered if it was, and that’s what Glypto saw. I heard a rumour that the ordo was resolved to sort them out before His Excellence returned, even if it led to executions without trial.’
‘The dead man was not a rebel,’ I said heatedly.
‘So there was a dead man?’ His tone was so knowing that I realized — too late — that I had made things worse and he was now convinced that I was conspiring with Quintus to conceal a death which might cause the councillor some embarrassment. There were obvious dangers in having that story circulate.
I made a swift decision. ‘I’m afraid there was, though it wasn’t a criminal, or any of my household or family. It was not even a customer, in fact. It was Lucius the pie-seller, who happened by chance to be calling at the shop because I’d given him a few things recently.’
‘Great Mars! What happened?’
‘He was overcome quite unexpectedly, it seems, and died. And when you saw me with the turnips, I was on my way to tell his mother. She was happy that the army was going to bury him because she didn’t have the means of doing so herself.’ I was folding my cloak into a parcel as I spoke and putting it into a space below the counter-top (no doubt where Minimus had kept his knuckle-bones), so that I did not have to look the tanner in the face — although there was nothing actually false in this account. I simply hadn’t mentioned the most essential bits — murder, robbery and the disappearance of my slave.
He looked rather disappointed. ‘Just a pie-seller? A man who might as easily have dropped dead in the street? And what has your wealthy customer to do with that?’
He was too insistent — and too intelligent. I decided that the truth was now my best defence. I leaned a little closer, as though the paving-stones had ears, and murmured, ‘I wasn’t anxious for the news to get about, because I was working on a commission at the time and I was afraid the customer would cancel. It is Pedronius, and you know what he’s like. He might imagine that the work was cursed, because I’d come across the corpse right in the middle of constructing it. I was halfway through preparing the site to put it in when I came back and found the body in my shop.’
He evidently revelled in the confidence. He nodded sagely. ‘I can see how Pedronius might worry about that. Just as well the mosaic wasn’t in your workshop at the time — but I can vouch that it wasn’t, if you ever should need me to. Might be worth a few sesterces to you some time, citizen.’
I was on my guard. Was he attempting a spot of blackmail? ‘What do you mean by that?’