Basilius seemed stunned. “This is true?”
“Why are you questioning me?” Felix thundered. “You’re the one who’s lying!”
The priest suddenly strode in the direction of the mausoleum. For an instant Felix thought he was running away, but instead he called out. “Timothy!”
The elderly doorkeeper came hobbling out, leaning on his stick and blinking. No doubt he had been sleeping, Felix thought. Or pretending to sleep. Was he involved too, with his frogs and amulets and implausible stories of apes and demons?
“Timothy, go and bring Peteiros. Tell him there’s a man here making inquiries about his…um…activities. A man from the palace tell him, so he will know how to…uh…conduct himself.”
The ancient fellow gave Felix a suspicious look and shuffled off. He took a very long time in returning with Peteiros. Time that Felix and the priest passed in an increasingly awkward silence. An unseen bird sang in a tree. If only the songs of those Felix interrogated were as simple and guileless at that bird’s, he mused.
By the time Peteiros finally arrived Basilius had composed himself. He related in sharp tones what Felix had told him.
Peteiros was stricken. “Lord forgive me!” He wailed, dropping to the ground and groveling at the priest’s feet in a display of debasement that Theodora would have admired.
Basilius took hold of the back of the man’s tunic and yanked with surprising strength, urging him back to his feet.
Peteiros complied and stood swaying and moaning.
“It’s true, then?” Basilius said. Felix would never have believed the little priest’s tones could be so cold. “You’ve been pilfering holy relics and selling them to a…a…prostitute?”
“No! No, sir. Only a few small, useless things.”
“It was quite a collection of bones you brought to Isis this morning,” Felix put in.
“They were the foot bones of a donkey,” was the reply.
Felix recalled one of the stories Anastasia had insisted he learn. “You mean the beast Jesus rode into Jerusalem?”
“Oh no, sir. It couldn’t have been. There was still skin and fur attached until I-”
“You’re talking about the donkey bones the old cart driver tried to pass off on us last week, aren’t you?” Basilius said. “A dreadful case. The poor fellow was starving, without a beast to pull his cart. He must have prayed he wouldn’t outlive his donkey.” He turned to address Felix. “I gave him a few coins and sent him away, then I ordered the bones placed into our store room with all the other similar items. We receive an endless stream of blatantly fraudulent relics, for one reason or another. I had no idea-”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I’m telling you the truth.”
Felix smiled wearily. “And you, Peteiros why shouldn’t I hand you over to the authorities for stealing the Virgin’s shroud? Because you’re telling the truth too? You’ve admitted you were selling relics.”
“Not relics, sir. Donkey bones.”
Basilius broke in. “Why, Peteiros? How could you do such a thing?”
“But I was only tidying up a bit, wasn’t I? And Mada and I, we hoped we might save enough to buy a bit of land for a farm.”
“The relic with which I am concerned would be worth more than a farm,” Felix pointed out.
Peteiros was almost in tears. “I’d never think of such a blasphemous thing, sir. My soul would burn. Those demons I saw would fall upon me and carry me off under the earth, into the eternal fires.”
“Pray that you are not destined for the flames for your perfidy,” Basilius told him. “How did you come to know such a woman as this Isis?”
Peteiros swallowed and licked his lips. “During the winter, when we needed to replace lamps and you wished me to find the least expensive…It was from one of the shops run by the refuge that I got the best bargains.”
Felix saw Basilius’ eyes widen slightly. He could imagine the priest thinking, in horror, “I have been walking in the light from a whore’s lamps all this time!”
What Basilius said was, “You may go now, Peteiros. We shall speak about your future later.”
Felix allowed the man to creep away. He didn’t believe his story, nor did he believe Basilius was ignorant of his employee’s activities. Hadn’t he as much as instructed Timothy to warn Peteiros to conduct himself appropriately? Clearly the two had a story worked out between them in case of need. And Peteiros wasn’t likely to deviate from it in front of his employer. Nor was Basilius likely to confess to any crimes, except perhaps to his god or Justinian’s torturers, and Felix was trying to avoid the latter himself.
He wheeled and stalked off without a word.
Chapter Forty-eight
Isis flushed with anger. “I know nothing about the theft of this relic you’re looking for. If I did know anything, I’d tell you. For a small donation for my girls’ welfare, of course.”
“Of course,” Felix agreed. They were sitting on a cushioned couch in her office, her inner sanctum, not as elaborately furnished as in the past, but still retaining memories of luxury. He had grown fond of this room in the days when he had happier business to conduct. He was fond of Isis as well. He regretted having to pressure his old friend. Her color looked unhealthy. But what could he do? She was dealing in relics. She had managed to get herself tangled up in the whole mess. “You need to tell me about your recent visitor now. I may not be able to talk with you again.”
Felix had returned to the refuge by back streets, uncomfortably aware that by now Narses would be probing every corner of the city for him, a vulture seeking the last, tender organ inside a stripped carcass. As he and Isis spoke, he half-listened for the imperious pounding on the door that would tell him he was discovered by a predatory beak.
She stared at him with a stony expression. “I don’t touch true relics, Felix. My girls do sell mementoes. Yes, we realize that some may not be what they should be. We might even create a few in this house. The church owns many frauds. I am told there are four of Peter’s fishing nets in one particular church, which seems a great many for a poor man, and so many leg bones attributed to Paul that he must have been a spider. Where is the harm if the buyer is convinced what he has purchased is what he believes it to be? His faith makes it holy. And is it not faith by which we are saved?”
“I’d say it is faith by which we are lost, when we put it in lies and liars, Isis. Peteiros claims he was the only one dealing in these relics, stealing them from under the priest’s nose. Frankly I have no faith in that statement.”
Isis glowered at him. “He told me he had sought me out on behalf of Basilius. Do you think I would have dealt with him otherwise? And he deals with me because he realizes I can exercise discretion, thanks to my previous calling.”
“Yet Basilius denied any involvement. Are you certain Peteiros comes here under his orders?”
“Certainly. Have I ever lied to you?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? How did Felix know if she, or anyone else for that matter, was lying to him?
“But could it be that Peteiros was lying to you about the priest being involved to convince you to cooperate? Have you ever dealt with Basilius in person?”
Isis looked cross. “No, but it isn’t surprising. He wouldn’t want to be seen with me.”
“Can you swear to me you know nothing about the missing relic, Isis? All I care about is getting it back. If you can help me it would be best for you to do so. The emperor is sure to find out eventually who was involved, unless I can hand it over to him first.”
“I understand, Felix, but I know nothing about this shroud.” Isis’ tone turned wistful. “If I actually had the such a valuable relic, do you suppose I would still be here? I know my business. I would have already sold it to the highest bidder, appointed a successor to run my refuge, and been on my way back to Egypt to live in luxury the rest of my life.”