Read Online Four for a Boy by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mary Reed, Eric Mayer
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aqueduct.
“Neither enterprise appears to be receiving much custom,” John observed. He wished he had a coin to give. The beggar pulled his hand back into the scant protection of his threadbare tunic as the two men strode past.
They had not had much sleep after the previous night’s hectic events. When they met the Gourd in his office that morning, he seemed perfectly fresh, even invigorated. The orders he gave them were vague. They were to investigate Hypatius’ murder, as the emperor and his nephew desired. Talk to people living or working near the Great Church and so forth. His men had already covered the ground, but since the emperor had so ordered, it must be done again.
It wasn’t clear to what extent the orders were Justin’s or Justinian’s, or for that matter which were the Gourd’s interpretation of whatever had been said to him. At any rate, investigating the area near the scene of the crime seemed a sensible start.
Thus most of the morning had been spent interviewing those residents and merchants whose homes and commercial premises clustered along the Mese. In particular, they had questioned those near its intersection with the Augustaion on which stood the Great Church where Hypatius had died.
“So what have we learnt these past few hours?” Felix grumbled irritably. “That merchants keep a close eye on their goods. Those indoors keep their windows shut against the cold. Naturally no one sees or hears anything. All of which we could have easily guessed while sitting in a warm tavern with a cup of wine instead of tramping about in the cold.”
“Nevertheless, you can’t solve a murder just sitting in a warm corner. You have to go out and gather information.”
Felix said nothing.
Each interview had followed the same pattern, suggested by John and accepted, grudgingly, but accepted nevertheless, by Felix. First they inquired whether the person to whom they were speaking had noticed anything on the day Hypatius was killed. Next, whether he might have seen something unusual. Finally if he had observed a very large, broad-shouldered Blue running by. It seemed to John that even if someone had noticed nothing else, he could not have missed a man of that size in full flight.
But that was indeed the case. At least if all those to whom they spoke were to be believed. He remarked on this to his companion.
Felix smiled. “These people wouldn’t have noticed if Emperor Constantine had leaped down off his column, jumped on a horse, and galloped up the Mese. Not if a pair from the palace was asking about it. Perhaps—” Felix broke off. “You!” he shouted at a figure emerging from a shop in front of them. “Wait!”
The young man he addressed began to run. Felix caught up to him in a few strides and grabbed a skinny arm. It was the hair hanging down the back of the tunic that had caught Felix’s eye, but when he spun his captive around John saw no evidence of the shaved hair so many Blues had adopted.
“You’re a faction member, aren’t you?” Felix barked anyway.
The youngster looked confused. “Yes, sir. Not the Blues though. And not when I’m on the street.”
Felix gave the arm a shake. “Explain.”
“I…I’m a Green, sir. Or rather I used to be. We don’t dare venture out any more. The Blues would kill a Green as soon as look at him. I was sent to buy a few things for my employer.”
Felix sent the young man on his way. He and John stood in front of a grocer’s emporium, identified as such by a brass plaque engraved with a steelyard.
“We might as well ask in this shop, just like all the rest,” said Felix. “Or maybe we should find a large stone to roll up a hill instead.”
Stepping inside, they found an impressive array of household necessaries including pottery and glassware displayed amid barrels of salted fish. Baskets of vegetables and bowls of honeycombs leaned conspiratorially cheek by jowl on shelves attached to roughly plastered walls. The atmosphere was
“Neither enterprise appears to be receiving much custom,” John observed. He wished he had a coin to give. The beggar pulled his hand back into the scant protection of his threadbare tunic as the two men strode past.
They had not had much sleep after the previous night’s hectic events. When they met the Gourd in his office that morning, he seemed perfectly fresh, even invigorated. The orders he gave them were vague. They were to investigate Hypatius’ murder, as the emperor and his nephew desired. Talk to people living or working near the Great Church and so forth. His men had already covered the ground, but since the emperor had so ordered, it must be done again.
It wasn’t clear to what extent the orders were Justin’s or Justinian’s, or for that matter which were the Gourd’s interpretation of whatever had been said to him. At any rate, investigating the area near the scene of the crime seemed a sensible start.
Thus most of the morning had been spent interviewing those residents and merchants whose homes and commercial premises clustered along the Mese. In particular, they had questioned those near its intersection with the Augustaion on which stood the Great Church where Hypatius had died.
“So what have we learnt these past few hours?” Felix grumbled irritably. “That merchants keep a close eye on their goods. Those indoors keep their windows shut against the cold. Naturally no one sees or hears anything. All of which we could have easily guessed while sitting in a warm tavern with a cup of wine instead of tramping about in the cold.”
“Nevertheless, you can’t solve a murder just sitting in a warm corner. You have to go out and gather information.”
Felix said nothing.
Each interview had followed the same pattern, suggested by John and accepted, grudgingly, but accepted nevertheless, by Felix. First they inquired whether the person to whom they were speaking had noticed anything on the day Hypatius was killed. Next, whether he might have seen something unusual. Finally if he had observed a very large, broad-shouldered Blue running by. It seemed to John that even if someone had noticed nothing else, he could not have missed a man of that size in full flight.
But that was indeed the case. At least if all those to whom they spoke were to be believed. He remarked on this to his companion.
Felix smiled. “These people wouldn’t have noticed if Emperor Constantine had leaped down off his column, jumped on a horse, and galloped up the Mese. Not if a pair from the palace was asking about it. Perhaps—” Felix broke off. “You!” he shouted at a figure emerging from a shop in front of them. “Wait!”
The young man he addressed began to run. Felix caught up to him in a few strides and grabbed a skinny arm. It was the hair hanging down the back of the tunic that had caught Felix’s eye, but when he spun his captive around John saw no evidence of the shaved hair so many Blues had adopted.
“You’re a faction member, aren’t you?” Felix barked anyway.
The youngster looked confused. “Yes, sir. Not the Blues though. And not when I’m on the street.”
Felix gave the arm a shake. “Explain.”
“I…I’m a Green, sir. Or rather I used to be. We don’t dare venture out any more. The Blues would kill a Green as soon as look at him. I was sent to buy a few things for my employer.”
Felix sent the young man on his way. He and John stood in front of a grocer’s emporium, identified as such by a brass plaque engraved with a steelyard.
“We might as well ask in this shop, just like all the rest,” said Felix. “Or maybe we should find a large stone to roll up a hill instead.”
Stepping inside, they found an impressive array of household necessaries including pottery and glassware displayed amid barrels of salted fish. Baskets of vegetables and bowls of honeycombs leaned conspiratorially cheek by jowl on shelves attached to roughly plastered walls. The atmosphere was
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