“Would Dromeus take such a risk for what, after all, is only a job? Dromeus is a hired hand.”
“Who can say? We need to know more about Dromeus,” Diotima said. “There might be more to him. What about Exelon? Do you believe his story?”
“Timo confirms the facts, but … I don’t know, Diotima. He has a fantastic motive.”
“I agree.”
“What about these mysterious secrets?” I asked. “Any idea?”
Diotima threw up her arms in confusion. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Have we missed any suspects?”
“The other contestants,” Diotima said at once. “What better way to improve their chances than to kill one front-runner and frame the other?”
I’d had the same thought but never followed it up. “You’re right, and I haven’t done a thing about them. We better get on to that.”
We collected Markos on the way, since the rules of this game required us to see the same evidence and hear the same witnesses. I’d played very loose with those rules, and I was sure he had, too. I debated with myself whether to tell Markos about the hemlock. I liked him, and I was sure that together we could make faster progress. I decided in the end that this was a competition, and he was my opponent, and that mattered more than friendship, particularly when my other friend’s life was the stake of the game.
Timodemus had told me the top three men in pankration, after himself and Arakos, were Korillos from Corinth, Aggelion from Keos, and Megathenes from Megara. We found all of them at the gym, as expected. The pankration was on the next day, a dismal reminder that Timo’s time was running out. The pankratists were in final preparation-not working to the limit, but enough to keep themselves loose.
Diotima had to wait outside. Markos and I found the three we wanted, the three with the most to gain from the elimination of Arakos and Timo. Their trainers tried to stop us, but we invoked the rule of the Chief Judge: Markos and I had access to anywhere and anyone.
“Can we go somewhere we can’t be seen?” one of the men-Korillos-asked. They were as young as Marko and me.
Together we crossed the Sanctuary-Diotima rejoined us on the way-to the Avenue of the Victors, part of the road into Olympia, lined with the statues of past winners. The statuary varied wildly in style, from the recent winners, so realistic you’d swear they could step down from the plinths to win again, to statues of winners from so long ago they looked like something out of Egypt.
All three of our suspects seemed worried. Aggelion, from Keos, was small and fast, like Timo. Megathenes of Megara had more the look of a runner than a fighter. Korillos of Corinth was a big man, exuding strength.
“Why are we hiding?” I asked. “Is what you have to say so sensitive, or is it embarrassing to be seen with the investigators?”
Aggelion said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”
“The thing is, we’re regulars on the circuit,” said Megathenes. “We don’t want the other regulars to think we might be talking about them.”
“The circuit?” Markos repeated.
Korillos said, “The Isthmian Games, the Pythian Games, the Nemean Games, the Olympic Games. The big four, plus all the little contests in between that no one ever mentions. We go from one to the next, competing at each. It’s a punishing pace, but while we’re fit and young is the time to do it. We hardly ever see our homes.”
“We’re closer to each other than we are to the people in our own cities,” said Megathenes. He smiled at Korillos, and Korillos returned a grin, in a way that instantly caused me to think they might be very close indeed.
“You were to compete against Arakos then,” Markos said.
“Right,” said Korillos.
“Are you from a sporting family?” Aggelion asked me.
I smiled. “Hardly. My father’s a sculptor.”
“How can someone who doesn’t understand sport solve a sporting crime?” Aggelion asked.
“I don’t need to understand the game to solve who killed a man.”
“Sure,” said Aggelion, obviously unconvinced.
“How well do you know Timodemus?” I asked the pankratists.
“Like us, he’s been on the circuit,” said Korillos.
“All three of you were at Nemea?” Diotima asked.
“Yes,” he said shortly. He was clearly unhappy to talk to a woman.
Diotima saw it, too. She said, “Do you understand we’re empowered to ask any question?”
“No, you’re not,” said Aggelion. “That’s the two men. We don’t have to answer to you.”
“When Diotima speaks, it’s as if I speak,” I said at once. “Please answer her questions.”
Diotima had held her temper remarkably well. She said, “The rumor is Timodemus cheated at Nemea.”
Korillos looked to his friends and competitors. They nodded. “It’s no rumor. Timodemus definitely cheated at Nemea.”
Markos cast a look of triumph my way, which I studiously ignored.
Megathenes spoke for the first time. “All three of us fought against Timodemus. We all felt the same thing.”
“Felt what?”
“Heavy legs.”
Korillos nodded. “Lethargic, like I didn’t want to move. I was fine before the match, I was fine the next day, but when I faced Timodemus, all I wanted to do was lie down.”
“Everyone knows he cursed us with witchcraft,” Megathenes said.
I kept my face passive. I already knew this from Pindar, but I didn’t want Markos to discover I’d hidden the information from him.
“I’ve got a question,” I said. “It’s nothing to do with the investigation, so please excuse me if this is rude and don’t answer if you don’t feel like it …”
They looked at me in surprise.
“You, Megathenes, you’re from Megara.”
“Yes.”
“And Korillos, you’re from Corinth.”
“Right.”
“Your cities are at war, and Athens is involved, too. Your little war could drag every other city in Hellas into an all-out conflagration.”
“I get the impression you’re not pleased about that,” said Megathenes.
“I’m not. I have better things to do than march in a phalanx. Has it occurred to you gentlemen that if Hellas goes to war, we five might have to kill each other in battle? But here’s the question you don’t have to answer. How can you, Megathenes, and you, Korillos, maintain your … ah … friendship when your cities are at each other’s throats?”
“It isn’t easy,” Korillos said at once, and he reached out to hold Megathenes’s hand. Megathenes squeezed back.
“We’ve talked about it. A lot,” said Megathenes. “But what can we do? We have to hope it all settles down.”
“Any hope of that, do you think?” I asked.
“Megara would make peace in an instant,” said Megathenes. “My people only want to be left alone.”
“But Corinth won’t tolerate it,” said Korillos. “Megara began as a colony of Corinth, and that’s how my people insist it stays. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, except Megara ran to Athens for help.”
“My people could hardly do otherwise when they have no chance against Corinth on their own.”
Korillos and Megathenes seemed to have forgotten us. They faced each other in their own little argument.
“But bringing in Athens turned it into a matter of prestige,” said Korillos. “Now my people can’t back away without looking weak.”
Megathenes said, with some heat, “That’s not fair.”
“Don’t fight, you two,” said Aggelion. Which I thought was rather silly for one pankratist to say to two others.
“You see how it affects us all,” said Aggelion, and Korillos and Megathenes looked rather shamefaced. “Now kiss and make up,” Aggelion ordered, and the two friends did.
“You see the real reason we didn’t want to be seen,” Aggelion said. “There’d be an uproar if a man of Corinth and a man of Megara fraternized.”
I wondered if Aggelion sometimes joined in the frolics with his friends. “So you three have a real interest in keeping the peace,” I said.
“Rather funny for a bunch of professional fighters, isn’t it?” Aggelion observed, and he smiled.