I was not entirely sympathetic to that. I dismissed scholars who spent years narrowly comparing works on a line by line basis. Minutely searching for the perfect version seemed to me to add nothing to human knowledge or to the betterment of the human condition. Perhaps it kept the scholars out of the taverns and off the streets -though if it had led directly to Theon being given an oleander nightcap, he might have done better to be away from the Library, just having a dispute about the government with five fishmongers in a downtown bar. Or even staying longer at our house, eating pastries with Uncle Fulvius, come to that.
‘There are others feuding,’ Helena said. ‘The Zoo Keeper, Philadelphion, resents the international kudos that is given to the Great Library at the expense of his scientific institute; he wrangles, or wrangled, with both Philetus and Theon about uplifting the importance of pure science within the Museion. Zenon, the astronomer, thinks studying earth and the heavens is more use than studying animals, so he tussles with Philadelphion. For him, understanding the Nile flood is infinitely more useful than averaging how many eggs are laid by the crocodiles which inhabit the Nile’s banks.’
I nodded. ‘Zenon also knows where the purse pinches - and he must resent having to examine the stars from a chair he made himself while, if what Thalia says is right, Philadelphion can lavish gold on every last breed of fancy ibis. From what you say, love, the Museion is seething with animosity. Our Cassius seems to keep up with gossip. Any other nuggets?’
‘One. The lawyer, Nicanor, lusts after the Zoo Keeper’s mistress.’
‘The fabulous Roxana?’
‘You are salivating, Falco!’
‘I have not even met the woman.’
‘I see you would like to!’
‘Only to evaluate whether her charms might be a motive.’
At this point, perhaps luckily, the hot, restless breeze that had got up while we were conversing began to agitate the undergrowth more wildly, to the extent that it woke our driver. He told us this was the Khamseen, the fifty-day wind that Zenon had speculated might have upset Theon’s mental stability. It certainly was becoming gritty and unpleasant. Helena wrapped her stole around her face. I tried to look brave. The driver hurried us back to the cart and set off for the city, regaling us on the way with tales of how this wicked wind killed babies. There was no need to lure us back with sensational stories. We were ready to go home and check on our daughters.
XXVI
We arrived back in the city in early evening. The wind had blown across us all the way and was now terrorising the streets, grabbing at awnings and bowling rubbish ahead of its strong gusts. People were holding scarves and stoles across their faces, while women’s long clothes twisted against their bodies, men cursed and children wailed. My throat grew scratchy. My hands, fingers and lips felt dry; the dust had worked into my ears and scalp. I could taste the stuff. As we drove along the harbour road, as long as the light lasted we could see choppy waves tearing over the water.
At my uncle’s house, I paid off the driver outside the courtyard gate. Immediately we got down and the porter opened up for us, our driver was nobbled by that fellow Katutis who sat outside on the kerb trying to badger us every day. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them with their heads together, engaged in a deep conversation. I could not deduce whether Katutis was complaining or just curious. I had only a glimpse, but I reckoned he would soon know from today’s driver everything about where we had been. Was he spying on us? Or just jealous that some other fellow had been successful in winning our custom? Today’s driver had been a completely chance pick-up for Helena and me. There was no reason for these two similarly clad, similarly whiskery men to know one another. I could see no reason for them to discuss us so intently. In some places I might shrug and say it was a small town - but Alexandria had half a million inhabitants.
On the threshold, Helena and I shook the dust off ourselves and stamped our feet. We went up slowly. We were glowing from the sun and wind-blast, our brains relaxed and our relationship reasserted. We could hear no particular screaming from children. Everywhere seemed peaceful. Faint welcoming scents came from the kitchen area as we passed. The thought of a wash, followed by stories with my daughters, a quiet dinner, some gentle talk with my older relatives, even a drink with Pa - no, forget that - and an early night was extremely attractive.
But work never stops. First, I had a visitor.
Cassius and Pa had been entertaining him for me. Both seemed mildly surprised by their own co-operation. This was not a commercial contact: I had been tracked down by Nicanor, the Museion lawyer. Etiquette required that such a visitor should not be dumped alone in an empty room, but neither of my relatives was at ease with his calling and in return I could see him looking down on them. Cassius and Pa handed him over to my custody then left us alone together with unlikely speed.
Titbits and wine had been served previously; a slave brought a goblet for me. While Nicanor and I settled, Helena came in briefly and gave him her greeting as if she was the matron of the house, but even she excused herself, saying she had to see our little daughters to bed. She palmed some of the titbits as she left us to it.
The lawyer had only nodded pompously to Helena’s good-mannered greeting. That was when I started to dislike him. No; thinking he had tried to do down Aulus, I already did. The feeling would grow, and not just because he was a lawyer. He trailed a cloud of self-esteem, just as some men waft overpowering hair unguent. Mind you, he had the unguent too. Though not effeminate, he was painstakingly manicured and groomed. I’d snort that lawyers can well afford it, but that really would sound like prejudice.
Nicanor had a long face with extremely dark brown soulful eyes. He looked like a Romanised Jew. His deep voice was certainly Eastern. He was cradling his winecup, now half full, not quaffing with the gusto I associated with lawyers. I slowed my own drinking pace to match his. Automatically I found myself adjusting my attitude too. I became more guarded than I had been with the other academics.
‘I hear,’ began Nicanor, who reckoned himself lead prosecutor, ’you have been asking after me.’
If he was just responding to my enquiries, it was disappointing. At the necropsy, I had invited people to give me clues and dish the dirt. I had hoped that high-flown members of the Academic Board would race to land their colleagues in midden-shit. Snitches are not always accurate, but it gives an investigator somewhere to start.
Patience, Falco. There was a reason for him coming. We just had not reached it yet.
I assumed the necessary posture of gratitude. ’Well, thanks for turning up. Just a couple of questions, really. I have asked most of your fellow Board members: first, the obvious.’ I was pretending to assume he was a fellow-expert in crime enquiries. ’Where were you the evening Theon died?’
‘That old cliché. Minding my business. What else?’
I noted he failed to provide an alibi - and he was rude about it. Somewhat sourly, I added my second question, ‘I would like to know your interest in the Library post.’
‘Of course you would! The shortlist is announced, I presume you know!’ He was enjoying his power in telling me.
‘I was out of town today’ I refused to lose my temper. I really would have liked to have heard this in private circumstances. I bet Nicanor saw I was annoyed. ‘So who made the list?’
‘Myself-’ No false modesty there. He put himself in first. ’Zenon; Philadelphion; Apollophanes.’
Hmm. No Aeacidas, no Timosthenes. I would have included them both and dropped the toady.