The Far Shore (11 page)

‘Where are you headed?’

Though Cassius kept the questions coming, Ahala showed no sign of unease.

‘To Demetrias in Macedonia. Quite a long trip.’

‘And dangerous at this time of year.’

Ahala shrugged. ‘I’ve done it before. Basically a matter of hopping from one island to the other, then along the coast in stages.’

‘Why is your hold empty?’

‘We’re bound to meet some bad weather somewhere, so we’re better off without a big load.’

‘That’s horseshit, sir,’ interjected the older legionary. ‘These captains squeeze in everything they can to make a profit.’

‘Experienced seaman, are you, soldier?’ asked Ahala.

‘Watch your mouth,’ retorted the legionary.

‘I’ve already made my money on this trip,’ explained the captain. ‘Which won’t count for a lot if we’re sunk on the way home.’

‘Sir, I’ve got something!’ cried the other legionary, still down below. He stomped up the steps holding a heavy-looking sack tied at the top with twine. ‘Didn’t you say something about a sack, sir? Found this near where we found the man.’

Cassius and the others all stared at the captain. He suddenly laughed.

‘Something amusing?’ Cassius asked.

Ahala put a hand on the curved dagger at his belt. ‘May I?’

‘Sir,’ warned the older legionary.

Cassius examined the captain’s face and made a swift decision. ‘Go ahead.’

‘You’ll find a hundred and forty-nine more of these if you keep looking.’

Ahala jabbed the dagger into the sack, then pulled it out. Sand spilled from the hole on to the deck. The captain sheathed his dagger. ‘Ballast.’

Cassius looked at the crew. ‘Where were your men on the night before last?’

‘Here. Sleeping.’

‘You’re sure of that?’

‘Absolutely. I bed down near the hatch so none of them can sneak into town for a drink.’

‘All right. One last thing. Line your men up.’

As Ahala gave the orders, Cassius waved the legionaries up to the wharf. ‘Go. We’re done here.’

The soldier who’d argued with Ahala shook his head. ‘You’re just going to leave it at that, sir?’

‘You don’t get paid enough to make decisions, legionary. Off the ship.’

‘Should I translate?’ asked Ahala, now standing with his men.

‘Yes,’ Cassius replied, pulling a coin from the money bag attached to his belt. ‘Tell them to catch this with one hand.’

‘As you wish,’ replied the bemused captain.

Cassius went along the line. Four of the men caught the coin cleanly and the last one dropped it but they all had one thing in common.

‘Right-handed,’ said Indavara. ‘But what about the other sailors who aren’t here?’

Cassius shook his head. ‘We’re wasting our time. My fault for jumping to flawed conclusions. Why would the killer masquerade as part of a crew? He wouldn’t even be able to decide when to make his escape. No, we’re looking for a man on his own. Come on.

‘Apologies for the intrusion,’ he said as they passed Ahala. He wouldn’t normally have bothered, but the captain had been exceptionally good-natured about the whole thing.

‘No harm done, Officer,’ said Ahala with a smile. ‘Always happy to assist imperial officials.’

‘I’m sure.’

Cassius was last off the ship. As they marched back towards the town, the covered carriage reappeared on the road, overtaking a slow-moving wagon and speeding past the warehouses towards them.

‘Gods,’ said Cassius. ‘What is it now?’

The two legionaries laughed when the carriage came to a stop – squeezed in between the two young ladies was the portly Optio Clemens.

Annia waved at Cassius. ‘Officer, this man was looking for you so I thought we’d help out.’

‘Very thoughtful, miss,’ said the red-faced optio.

‘Ha ha! Lady Clemens out for a ride!’ cried the younger legionary. The older man was already guffawing.

Cassius shoved the loudmouth in the shoulder, swiftly bringing him to his senses. ‘Shut your mouth, idiot,’ he snapped, before turning to Clemens. ‘What is it?’

‘One of the men has got a sighting from the day before yesterday. Sounds right. Short man, with the hood and the sack.’

‘Where?’

‘Coming out of a shipping agent’s office.’

‘Who saw him?’

‘Cobbler with a store opposite.’ Clemens grinned. ‘He noticed the boots.’

A quarter of an hour later, a quite sizeable group of people were gathered outside the shipping agent’s office: Clemens and four legionaries, three city sergeants, the harbour master’s clerk, Mistress Annia and her entourage, and half a dozen curious passers-by.

Cassius – waiting impatiently as the agent examined an array of waxed tablets – looked out through the doorway at Annia. Alone in the carriage, she stared out at the sea, seemingly unconcerned by the harsh wind lashing her face, or the errant strands of hair whipping about her neck.

The agent was named Sudrenus; a wealthy-looking Greek who didn’t seem accustomed to clerical work. His two employees were both ill with some coughing sickness, so he was having to man the office himself. His family owned and managed a fleet of mid-size freighters that ran routes all across the eastern Mediterranean.

He glanced at the street. ‘Must they all stand around like that? It’s not good for business.’

‘The quicker you are, the quicker they’ll be gone,’ said Cassius. ‘The witness did seem sure he saw the man leaving here two days ago.’

‘Yes, yes. I just have to find the right tablet.’

Though it had cost him fifteen denarii (ten for the legionary, five for the cobbler), Cassius was fairly certain the sighting was genuine. The man had described a brand new pair of the hobnailed, front-laced boots worn by legionaries and officers across the Empire. ‘Just like yours, sir, only newer,’ he’d said. Such boots were expensive, and would indeed have looked out of place with the rest of the assassin’s garb. Unfortunately, the cobbler had been so entranced by the suspect’s footwear he couldn’t recall much else, though confirmed he was on the short side.

‘Here it is,’ said Sudrenus, tapping a tablet, ‘just the
Lebadea
in on that day. Arrived from Paphos in the morning and left bound for Halicarnassus in the afternoon.’

‘Go on.’

Cassius was sitting on the other side of Sudrenus’s high, marble desk, at right angles to the door, with Simo and Indavara standing behind him. The only thing the well-appointed office had in common with the harbour master’s was the bronze plaques on the wall. The tiled floor was covered with thick, oriental rugs and there were two little statues – one of Zeus, one of Poseidon – mounted on miniature columns at the back of the room.

‘Er … the cargo was a load of red clay and … what’s that? Ah yes, grain. That cretin Herma – I can hardly read his writing.’

‘The load isn’t important,’ Cassius replied sharply. ‘Passengers.’

‘Yes. Three men gave payment.’ The Greek looked up. ‘I insist a record is kept, so that none of the captains take backhanders.’

‘And?’

‘First, one Carius Asina. Wife and family included. Paid and signed.’

‘You know the name?’ asked Cassius.

‘Can’t say I do.’

Without turning round, Cassius pointed at the door. ‘Simo, go and repeat the name Carius Asina to that lot outside. Somebody might know it. Next, Sudrenus?’

‘No name. Just one initial – D. No signature.’

Cassius leant forward over the desk and looked at the D.

‘That could be our man. Who did you say was manning the office that day?’

‘Herma.’

‘Where does he live?’

‘No idea.’

‘What? One of your employees?’

Sudrenus shrugged. ‘What do I care where he lives?’

‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Simo from the door. Knowing the Gaul wouldn’t disturb him without good reason, Cassius got up and walked over. All eyes were on him as Optio Clemens came forward.

‘Sir, Carius Asina is a member of the Rhodes Assembly. From one of the old families. Has a lot of land around Hippoteia.’

‘Where’s that? Close?’

‘No, sir. Middle of the island.’

Cassius heard a curse from inside the office.

Sudrenus slapped the tablet. ‘Bloody Herma! Useless little worm!’

‘What’s the problem?’ asked Cassius, returning inside.

‘The third passenger was Drusus Viator. I expressly told my staff not to allow that man to set foot on one of our vessels.’

‘Why?’

‘He was charged with theft and tax evasion by the municipal court earlier in the year.’

Cassius was smiling as he hurried back to the door and waved the city sergeants forward. ‘Anyone know a man by the name of Drusus Viator? A thief, apparently.’

Two of the men shook their heads. The third man spoke: ‘I was with the arrest party. We had to chase him halfway across the Great Harbour.’

Annia had climbed down from the carriage and was now listening intently to the conversation. ‘This man,’ she said. ‘It was
him
?’

‘I don’t think so,’ replied Cassius. ‘But another man on the ship didn’t leave a name, and this Viator might have seen him. If he was on the ship with him all the way from Paphos he may even have spoken to him.’

He turned to the sergeant. ‘Do you know where Viator lives?’

‘I do, sir. Little townhouse not far from Helios.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘He means the
statue
of Helios,’ said Annia impatiently.

Cassius resisted the urge to order her back into the carriage.

‘Right,’ he told the sergeant. ‘You shall take us there at once. Clemens, I need you to find out what you can about this Asina fellow – he may not have returned home immediately. If he or any of his family are still around we need to speak to them at once. Tell the rest of your men to keep looking. Just because we have a lead here doesn’t mean there aren’t others. And we now know something else – our man might have gone by a name beginning with D. Also, I need two of your men.’

‘Sir.’

Clemens took the other two legionaries with him and marched away along the street. Cassius led the other two into the office.

Sudrenus looked up.

‘These men are going to find your slave,’ Cassius said. ‘Give them all the help you can – I need to see him at once.’

‘Very well,’ the Greek replied wearily.

‘You get hold of him, you bring him to me,’ Cassius told the legionaries. ‘I don’t care if you have to drag him out of bed.’

Once back outside, he found Annia questioning the sergeant about Drusus Viator. Cassius held up his hand before the sergeant could answer. ‘That’s really none of your concern, miss. I did ask you to leave this matter in my hands.’

Annia gestured to the carriage. ‘Please, Officer. We can get you to the Helios in no time.’

Cassius looked around. As well as Simo, Indavara and the three sergeants, Trogus, the driver and Annia’s maid were also standing there, listening in.

‘Give us a moment,’ Cassius said irritably. As the others moved away, Annia stared back at him, arms folded across her chest. Cassius could quite happily have slapped her, but settled for leaning in close and addressing her in an urgent whisper.

‘Miss, I do not intend to try and apprehend a known criminal by arriving at his house in a carriage with two
women
in tow. It is time for you to remember your place and stay out of my way.’

Annia matched his whisper but replaced urgency with defiance.

‘You, sir, are not in a position to tell me what my place is. The only man capable of doing that is dead.’

Cassius straightened up and took a breath. The girl really was quite infuriating.

‘I ask you again, miss, will you just allow me to do my job?’

Annia took a long time to reply. ‘Very well.’

She aimed a finger at Trogus. He, the driver and the maid climbed back on to the carriage.

‘But I want to know something,’ Annia added. ‘It’s possible the assassin has already left the island, yes?’

‘Several vessels departed yesterday. We must establish whether he was on one of them.’

‘And if he was? Will you charter a vessel and follow that ship?’

‘That is one possibility, yes. We might also look to the navy for assistance.’

‘I see. I apologise for getting in your way, Officer. Knowing my place has never been a great strength of mine.’

This first flash of humility came as a surprise to Cassius. He followed Annia the few steps to the carriage, then offered her his hand as she climbed up.

The driver waited for a rider coming up from the harbour to pass, then turned into the road and followed him. As the carriage trundled away, Cassius glanced at Indavara and rolled his eyes.

‘Women, eh, sir?’ said one of the young sergeants. Cassius knew he should admonish him for his cheek but he couldn’t resist the reply.

‘Ladies are worse.’

Crouching behind a cart loaded with bundles of dried reeds, Cassius, Indavara, Simo and the three sergeants looked across the street at Drusus Viator’s villa. It was situated in a mainly residential area on the slopes above the Little Harbour; the third of three identical properties squeezed in between a bakery to the left and a tree-lined sanctuary to the right. The columns on either side of the front door seemed rather grandiose for a one-storey building with probably only three or four rooms.