The Imperial Banner (37 page)

‘Someone knew his face,’ said Congrio. ‘Told us where he lived. When we got to the apartment block the old crone downstairs said you two were already in there.’

‘Can’t blame you for assuming the worst,’ replied Cassius.

‘Why’s the Service interested in him?’

‘I can’t discuss that, I’m afraid. He was known to you?’

‘I didn’t recognise him, nor his name. We get bodies turn up all the time.’

Congrio pointed across the street to a low-walled enclosure full of overgrown bushes and trees. A group of women – rag-pickers with woven baskets on their shoulders – made way as Congrio hurried into the enclosure and along a gravel path. They passed an ornamental pool that was no longer very ornamental. Cassius doubted if any water had flowed in the little sanctuary for years; it had probably been established by some generous benefactor who’d died or fallen on hard times.

A group of young boys and girls had gathered where the body lay, chattering in Hebrew and Greek. Some of them had climbed up on to a fountain to get a better look over the shoulders of Congrio’s men. The children – and to a lesser extent the four other sergeants there – were dwarfed by the hulking figure of Magistrate Quarto. Congrio accelerated when he saw his superior there. Quarto turned round and stared down at the new arrivals with bloodshot eyes.

‘Ah. There you are, Congrio.’

Quarto’s beard and multiple chins completely obscured his neck.

‘I haven’t sent a runner yet, sir,’ said Congrio. ‘How did you—’

‘I was down on the avenue. One of these brats came past jabbering about it.’

‘This gentleman is with Imperial Security, sir; we found him at the dead man’s apartment.’

Quarto took a step closer. Cassius was six feet tall, but the magistrate towered over him. His mouth seemed to be set in a permanent sneer.

‘You one of Pitface’s then?’

All things considered, Cassius didn’t really feel the magistrate was in a position to be picking on the physical deficiencies of others.

‘If you mean Officer Abascantius, the answer is no. I work directly for Chief Pulcher, though I do liaise with Abascantius from time to time.’

‘What’s your concern? What were you doing at this man’s apartment?’

‘Looking for him.’

Quarto scratched at his beard. ‘Why?’

‘I can’t discuss that.’

For a moment, anger flashed in the magistrate’s eyes. But then he shrugged. ‘Then you shall receive no assistance from my office. If Pitface has a problem with that, tell him he can come and see me.’

‘May I at least look at the body?’

‘You have until the cart arrives.’

Quarto turned to Congrio. ‘Anybody see anything?’

Congrio shook his head. ‘The children found him.’

‘You’re in charge; get this mess tidied up quickly.’

Tucking his thumbs into his belt, the magistrate sauntered away past the fountain. Cassius could see a servant waiting with an enormous horse on the other side of the sanctuary.

He walked over to the body. Nabor was lying on his back next to a row of flowerless bushes, his arms and legs splayed wide. Cassius recognised the dark hair and lanky frame. His eyes were shut, his lips twisted in an eerie half-smile. Blood had soaked most of his neck and the top half of his tunic. On his belt was a knife, still sheathed. Cassius looked down at the wounds: two ragged punctures in his throat.

Indavara and Congrio joined him.

‘Dagger, probably,’ observed Indavara.

‘Was anything else found here?’ Cassius asked Congrio.

‘I’m not supposed to cooperate with you.’

‘Believe me, I wish I could be open with you, but my hands are tied.’

Congrio stared at Cassius for a moment, then turned to one of the sergeants and gestured to him. The man picked up a small sack with a length of twine around it. He handed it to Congrio, who showed it to Cassius.

‘Just this. Clothes. No money, nothing else.’

‘It was like this when you found it?’

‘No, the clothes were all scattered around.’

‘Thank you.’

Cassius and Indavara moved away from the body, under the branches of an apricot tree.

‘They were looking for the necklace,’ said Indavara.

‘Yes, and I expect they found it. How long since we were at the factory? Two hours at the most. Didn’t waste much time, did they? I imagine he thought they would help him. His last mistake.’

The expression on Abascantius’s face seemed to suggest anger and dismay in equal measure. He scratched his head and stared up at the ceiling.

Cassius and Indavara sat on a couch opposite him. Shostra had just brought them cloths and hot water. Indavara was picking shards of glass out of his leg, then cleaning the little wounds.

‘This could have been avoided,’ said Abascantius, pointing at Cassius, ‘if you’d taken him alive at the factory. When you go to apprehend a suspect in a building, always send a man to the rear. That’s elementary, Corbulo.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Cassius knew he had been stupid; and now a man was dead. It was a horrible feeling – to know one’s actions had precipitated such a thing, but he refused to allow himself guilt. He had neither the time nor the energy for it; certainly not for a stupid thief who’d been betrayed by his own kind. He watched Indavara remove a blue sliver of glass from his shin.

‘This necklace,’ continued Abascantius. ‘You’re sure it came from the cart?’

‘I can’t be entirely certain, sir, but from what the dealers said there have been no other new pieces like that on the market. It’s unlikely to be a coincidence.’

Abascantius tapped his fingers against the side of the couch. ‘Well, I can’t deny you’ve made progress today. This killing is a setback but you must press on. We need to find out more about this Nabor. Don’t be afraid to throw some money around. Now, what about last night?’

Once again, Cassius divulged everything except a single incident; in this case Antonia’s kiss. Abascantius seemed very interested in what she’d found out about Octobrianus and was also surprised to hear of Scaurus’s behaviour. He whistled when he heard about the comedian’s jibe and questioned Cassius about every detail of the governor’s reaction.

‘Scaurus was lucky,’ said the agent. ‘Ordinarily, Gordio would have taken exception to such an affront. Evidently he has other matters to concern him.’ Abascantius hunched forward. ‘A man was seen visiting his home in the early hours of this morning – the second such incident this week. A Persian, no less.’

‘What do you think it means, sir?’

‘Gordio’s always been ambitious. Aurelian’s a long way away now. And Marcellinus is out of the city.’

‘You don’t think he’d move against the Emperor?’

‘Someone has the flag. And that someone now has a lot of leverage.’

Abascantius looked up as Shostra reappeared carrying his master’s cape. He was with a big, grizzled man of about fifty, who was armed with a long sword and a wooden cudgel tucked into his belt.

‘Message just arrived, sir,’ said Shostra. ‘He’ll meet us as planned.’

‘Good.’

Abascantius stood up and pointed to the stranger. ‘That’s Major, by the way. Bodyguard I use from time to time.’

Major offered a barely noticeable nod.

‘Any other progress, sir?’ Cassius enquired as he and Indavara stood.

‘More hearsay and speculation. I am looking into the affairs of the most powerful men in this city. Each has his fair share of enemies; there are any number of people with good reason to incriminate them.’

Abascantius pressed his fingers against his brow, then rubbed his eyes.

‘It’s getting dark. Get yourselves home and cleaned up. At dawn I want you back in the Jewish Quarter.’

Abascantius walked up to Cassius and prodded him in the chest. ‘And don’t set foot back in here unless you have something solid for me. Understood?’

As they walked back to the villa, Cassius felt the need to distract himself: not only from the nagging pain in his hands, arms and legs, but also from the mounting pressure of the investigation. All things considered, Abascantius had been lenient. Finding Nabor had been largely down to luck; losing him had been simple ineptitude.

As there was little likelihood of Indavara striking up a conversation, Cassius mentioned a matter that had been at the back of his mind since the previous evening.

‘Tell me, what’s your upper limit? As far as women go.’

Indavara shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I think any more than two is a bit stupid really. Another fighter I used to know said that with three girls or more a man really needs two—’

‘No, no, you misunderstand me. I mean in terms of age. How old a woman would you go with?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, how old are you?’

Indavara shrugged again.

‘Gods, numbers aren’t your strong point, are they? I reckon you’re about my age. So what’s the oldest woman you would sleep with?’

‘Thirty, maybe.’

‘Yes, thirty. That’s usually what I say.’

‘Why?’

‘Let’s just say I’m thinking about revising my upper limit.’

Indavara suddenly dropped back, and concealed himself in the shadow of an ivy-covered wall.

‘What’s up with you?’

The bodyguard beckoned Cassius closer then pointed across the street. Descending from the slopes above was a party of men. There were two legionaries at the front, two at the back. In the middle was the slight figure of General Ulpian, and just behind him his African bodyguard. The legionary was a good foot and a half taller than the general, and even at that distance Cassius could make out the bulging muscles of his arms and legs. The group disappeared behind a temple, heading for the centre of the city.

Indavara exhaled loudly. ‘Didn’t think I’d ever see him again.’

‘The African? You know him?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘But you’ve met him?’

‘Yes. In the arena, several years ago. He’s the man who took my ear off.’

Simo didn’t greet them when they arrived back at the villa, so Cassius assumed he was still out. As he was thirsty and Indavara was hungry, they made straight for the kitchen. They found Simo there. He was sitting at the table, facing away from them, head bowed. He was weeping.

‘Best stay in there for now,’ Cassius said. As Indavara withdrew to the atrium, he stood over Simo.

‘What’s the matter?’

Simo wiped at his face with a handkerchief, then stood.

‘Sorry, sir.’

Cassius put a hand on his shoulder. He’d never seen the Gaul so upset; and imagined he must have heard terrible news. There had been little contact from his family while they were in Cyzicus. Just a letter or two from Simo’s brother: a freedman who’d relocated his family to Tarsus just before the Palmyran occupation. The Gaul’s mother was long dead. Only his father had remained in the city but he was illiterate, so there had been no way for Simo to stay in touch.

‘Sit down. And tell me what’s happened.’

Cassius waited for Simo to sit, then took a chair beside him. Simo wiped at his eyes again.

‘I shall tell you, sir, but there is something I must explain first – something about me.’

Cassius was pretty sure he knew what was coming. ‘You’re a Christian.’

Simo looked surprised. Then he nodded.

Cassius sat back in the chair. ‘I suppose I’ve known for a while. Hardly a great mystery. I’ve never once heard you utter the name of Mars or Jupiter or Fortuna. Those times I couldn’t find you in Cyzicus. You were visiting one of your temples, I suppose.’

‘A church-house, sir, yes.’

‘Why did you never tell me before? I think you’ve known me long enough to appreciate there was nothing to fear.’

‘Honestly, I’m not sure, sir. Why did you never ask?’

Cassius shrugged. ‘Perhaps we both thought it more convenient to say nothing. What does this have to do with your father anyway? He too is a Christian?’

‘Yes.’

‘He’s alive, then?’

‘I think so. I went to his house and found it empty. One of his neighbours told me he’d been taken to the city prison.’

‘What? Why?’

‘You’ve heard of Bishop Paul, sir?’

‘Of course.’

Though few people could have maintained less of an interest in religious affairs than Cassius, the reputation of Antioch’s Christian leader had spread far and wide. Paul of Samosata had been the city’s bishop for more than a decade but he had acquired a reputation as a fame-hungry narcissist who liked to surround himself with beautiful young women. He had also enjoyed the support of Zenobia, but shortly after her defeat his rule was challenged by the Church authorities. Aurelian had granted them the power to make their own decision and Paul was deposed.