by Brown, Nick
Trogus stopped just inside the doorway and didn’t seem keen to venture any further. Cassius and Indavara walked past him. There was no smell yet, only the musty odour of the wood. Indavara took hold of the blanket, waited for a nod from Cassius, then pulled it away.
They barely noticed the larger of the two corpses. Their eyes were drawn instantly to the headless body of Augustus Marius Memor. Dark blood and tissues of yellow and pink had congealed around the uneven cut that had severed his neck two inches above his collarbone. Thick maroon streaks lined the throat and chest, colouring most of the white tunic. His arms hung straight by his sides but the fingers were clawed and contorted – his last moments of resistance frozen for ever. Memor had been slim, with pale skin and thick black hair upon his arms and legs.
Indavara walked round the table and looked down at the neck.
‘Not many cuts. Done quickly but done well. Probably slit the throat then worked back from there. Short, strong blade. Wide dagger perhaps.’ He glanced at the sheathed weapon on Cassius’s belt. ‘Like yours.’
Cassius had taken a moment to compose himself. He walked the other way round the table, past Ligur’s head, and looked down at Memor. He was glad he hadn’t known him; he tried to put aside the fact that the butchered form before him had once been a man. He let his eyes run over the body, looking for anything else they might use.
Indavara had already moved on.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Look here.’
Cassius turned and looked down at the doorman. Despite the blood, two separate rents in his throat could clearly be seen. Stuck to the wounds were a few fibres from the rug.
‘Ligur was found on his front, Trogus?’
‘Yes,’ replied the steward, still keeping his distance.
‘So he probably turned his back on the assassin. He must have known him, must have felt safe. Same blade?’
‘Think so,’ said Indavara.
Cassius squeezed past him and squatted beside the table, inspecting the wounds from the side. ‘See the angle of the cuts?’
Indavara knelt down. ‘I see it. The killer had to reach up to slice his neck. He might have been shorter.’
‘Quite a lot shorter.’
‘Left-handed too.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘The cuts are thicker to the right, where the blade first punctured the skin.’
‘So they are. You’re rather good at this. I suppose you’ve seen more weapons and wounds than most.’
Indavara shrugged.
‘See anything else?’ Cassius said. ‘On either of them?’
Indavara checked both men’s hands. Cassius went to look at their feet. Other than the fact that Ligur’s were dirty and Memor’s were spotless there was nothing of note.
‘No scratches on their fingers or broken nails,’ observed Indavara. ‘Neither of them had a chance to put up a fight.’
Cassius pointed down at the blanket. ‘Put that back, would you?’
He found Trogus pacing around outside. Opposite the outhouse were the stables. Cassius’ and Indavara’s mounts had been tied to a rail and were slurping water from a trough. The horses in the stalls behind them watched the new arrivals and sniffed the air.
‘What now, sir?’ asked Trogus.
‘Before the men come back I would like to see Mistress Annia.’
‘I shall pass on your request at once, sir.’
‘Also, those papers in the study. Presumably Memor had a lot of other documentation?’
‘Yes. I believe most of it is in wooden boxes up in his bedroom.’
‘I see.’
Just as Trogus was about to head back into the villa, Cassius held up a hand. ‘One more thing. I need you to compile a list of men on the island known either to Ligur or Memor, or to both of them. I am especially interested in short, left-handed individuals.’
III
Having sent Indavara to look over the rest of the property, Cassius waited for Annia on a chilly stone bench in one corner of the courtyard. The sun was hovering over the roof opposite him and the shadows were long; they would have to head back to the city soon.
She came out through the kitchen door and hurried over to him. Cassius again noticed how well she carried herself, how purposefully she moved. That high chin and haughty manner were rather off-putting but there was no denying the pleasing proportions of her body, nor the sculptured lines of her face. He stood and waited for her to sit at the other end of the bench before retaking his seat, adjusting his cloak to ensure it wasn’t touching the ground.
Annia was now wearing a black woollen cape, which she pulled tight over her chest. ‘I asked the surgeon to go out and help the servants. The villagers might take more notice of him.’
‘A good idea, miss. How are your sister and mother faring?’
Annia looked down at the ground. ‘My mother is weak in body, my sister in mind. I’ve long learnt to expect little help from them.’
Cassius was surprised by the cold detachment in her voice; surely this was just the trials of the day talking.
‘This is a terrible time for you all,’ he said. ‘May I formally offer my condolences.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m afraid I have some questions about your father.’
‘Ask. Ask whatever you have to.’
‘Trogus seems to know little of his work. Did he have a clerk or an assistant of any kind, someone who might be able to tell me more?’
‘My father almost always worked alone. Occasionally Trogus or I would take some dictation for him, but he said that the affairs of state were not matters to be shared. When he wasn’t travelling he spent hours writing reports for Rome or dealing with his post. Sometimes we wouldn’t see him between dawn and dusk.’
‘Do you know of any recent issues, any mention of a possible threat?’
‘No. But if he had thought he was in danger, I’m sure he would have told Trogus. Ligur too; he wasn’t just a doorman, he would often travel with my father as his bodyguard. He was a legionary – he served with my father many years ago.’
‘I see. And what of Master Memor’s behaviour – anything out of the ordinary, anything to suggest he was in fear for his life? Think carefully.’
Annia took a moment, then shook her head. ‘Not at all. In fact he seemed unusually relaxed. Last week he asked Marta and me to sing for him. And yesterday he took his long walk.’
‘Long walk?’
‘Yes, he went every morning. Usually a shorter route, sometimes a longer one around the lake.’
‘Away from the property?’
‘Yes, it’s about five miles.’
‘And he would walk every morning?’
‘Without fail.’
‘Alone?’
‘Always – he said the day went a little easier if he’d time to prepare for it.’
Cassius looked away.
‘What is it?’ Annia asked.
‘It seems to me that time was of the essence for the assassin. Had he watched the house for only a day he would have discovered a perfect opportunity to kill your father with minimal risk. And if he arrived very recently, I’ll be surprised if he wouldn’t want to leave with similar haste. It’s late in the year; I can’t believe he’d risk trapping himself on the island for the winter months. We shall focus our efforts on the port tomorrow. There can’t be that many ships sailing in early November.’
‘I shall come down myself at dawn.’
Cassius decided to snuff out this idea immediately; the last thing he needed was a woman – this one in particular – getting in the way.
‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘Necessary? How well do you know this island, Master …’
‘Corbulo.’
‘Yes. Well?’
‘I’ve been here only a day, miss, but it is my duty to investigate this matter for the Service. Please, leave it in my hands. I promise to keep you informed.’
‘What if you catch the assassin? What will
you do with him?’
Her replies were so quick, so pointed. Cassius was unused to speaking to a woman who refused to give up the initiative in a conversation.
‘Miss, you must accept the possibility that we may not be able to find him.’
‘But if you do?’
‘I shall consult my superiors.’
‘No.’
Cassius’s patience was rapidly wearing thin.
‘There will be no waiting around for weeks on end,’ Annia continued, her eyes now bright and wet with tears. ‘If you find him I want to see him. And then I want him killed. And I want to be there when it’s done. Is that understood?’
‘With the greatest of respect, Miss Annia, I do not answer to you.’
‘What rank do you hold in the Service?’
Cassius couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The extremes of female behaviour were nothing new to him – he had three older sisters after all – but even taking into account the horrors of the day, this girl’s presumptuousness and arrogance were exceptional indeed.
‘Nominally that of centurion,’ he replied. ‘Not that it should be of concern to you.’
‘My father was deputy commander of the Service for almost a decade. He was dining with prefects and senators and protecting the Empire when you were nothing but a boy.’
Cassius took a calming breath, then stood. ‘Your men will be coming back soon. I shall see if there’s any more to be learnt here, then return to the city. You and your family have my deepest sympathies, but if you address me like that again, I shall leave the investigation to the local magistrate and depart for Antioch at once.’
‘You wouldn’t dare. Your superiors—’
‘My superiors are a long, long way away. I am prepared to do all I can to help you, but I do not see why I should be subjected to such impertinence. Good day to you, miss.’
Annia didn’t reply. As he reached the portico, Cassius heard her strike the bench.
Half an hour later, he stood with Indavara and Trogus by the front door as the men filed through the gate and up to the villa. The sun was setting now, deep orange colouring the towers and roofs of the high citadel to the north.
Indavara had just returned from checking the rest of the villa. He’d established that there were indeed numerous ways to approach the building from the rear, but with all the doors locked it would have been extremely difficult to get inside.
As the men came to a halt, the surgeon – a balding, well-attired fellow – hurried forward. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t turn up anything useful myself, but I believe some of the men have information to report. I must see how Mistress Leonita is.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Trogus.
As the surgeon went inside, Cassius turned to the men. ‘Now, if you think you’ve heard something of interest, raise your hand. Do not worry about whether a matter seems trivial. I shall decide what is important or relevant.’
Of the eleven male staff, five raised their hands.
Cassius started with the man furthest to the left, an aged individual with striking white hair. ‘You first.’
‘Sir, a lady in one of the villas opposite said she’d seen two strangers loitering by the gate three days ago – they were there for more than an hour.’
‘Did you get a description?’ asked Cassius.
‘She only saw them from—’
Trogus interrupted. ‘They were tradesmen with an appointment to see me. We had guests so I had to keep them waiting. Men of good repute.’
The old servant bowed. ‘My apologies, Steward.’
‘Not necessary,’ said Cassius. ‘That’s exactly the type of thing I want to hear about. Next.’
A younger man wearing a leather apron over his tunic spoke up.
‘Esdras the shepherd saw a group of men out by the lake last week. Said they looked like thieves.’
Another of the men interjected: ‘Sir, Esdras thinks everyone looks like thieves.’
Cassius considered what Annia had told him about her father’s daily walks. ‘You’re quite right to mention it, but given the circumstances of the murder, it’s probably not relevant.’
He pointed at the third man. ‘You.’
‘Sir, it’s something I saw myself.’
‘Go on.’
‘I took a cart into town yesterday to buy some tiles. Coming round a bend about a half-mile out of the village I nearly ran over this man on foot. He was almost in the middle of the road. I gave him a right mouthful but he didn’t say a word – just kept walking. Had this big sack over his shoulder.’
‘What did you see of him?’ asked Cassius.
‘Not a lot, sir. He was wearing a hooded cloak. There was quite a wind blowing.’
Trogus came close to Cassius and whispered to him: ‘I don’t mean to make up your mind for you, sir, but Cimber there rather likes the sound of his own voice – I knew he would come out with something. The Via Alexandria is the main road to the south of the island, including Lindos. Travellers from the port come through Amyndios almost every day.’
‘One other thing, sir,’ volunteered Cimber, raising a hand. ‘He had on a nice pair of leather boots.’
‘So?’ said Cassius.
‘I noticed because they didn’t seem to go with his cloak – tatty thing. And that old sack too. Nice pair of boots they were. Shiny and new.’
‘All right – who’s next?’
The fourth member of the staff to speak was a lad of about fourteen. ‘Sir, some of the women down at the tannery were talking about a girl who was in the village this week. She came past several times and seemed very interested in the villa. Apparently she was asking about Master Memor – whether he was currently in residence or not.’
‘Description?’ asked Cassius.
‘She was about twenty, sir. Long, curly hair. Very pretty they said.’
‘They didn’t recognise her?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Officer Corbulo,’ said Trogus, ‘could I speak to you for a moment?’
Cassius followed the steward, who didn’t stop until he’d reached the edge of the orchard, well away from both the men and the villa.
‘What is it?’
The steward scratched at his beard with his fingernails. ‘Sir, I must ask that this matter remain between us.’
‘Of course. Hurry up, man.’
‘About three years ago, Master Memor had a brief affair with one of the serving girls: Aelia was her name. Long, curly hair. Very, very pretty. She began to believe the relationship was more than it was. She became rather unstable – threatened to tell Mistress Leonita of my master’s indiscretions. Of course we had to let her go but she didn’t take it well. Eventually Ligur and I had to pack up her things and escort her off the property. We pretended she’d been caught stealing. I gave her some money to disappear. Luckily the ladies of the house knew nothing of the truth.’
‘And what?’ demanded Cassius. ‘You’re not seriously suggesting that this girl returned three years later to wreak her revenge; visited the villa in the depths of the night, slashed the throat of an ex-legionary twice her size, then beheaded Master Memor.’
‘I know it sounds ridiculous, sir, but that’s not all. She left Rhodes shortly after she left here, but I heard a while ago that she’d returned to the island. She could be rather wild – always falling out with the other girls. Terrible temper.’
‘Trogus, it’s simply not possible.’
‘Please, sir, I’ve not finished. I just remembered – how she stuck out when the girls were sat in a row weaving. She was left-handed.’
Cassius, who had bowed his head while listening to Trogus, straightened up and beckoned to Indavara. As he jogged towards them, Trogus continued:
‘Sir, if this matter were to come out—’
‘Yes, yes. I know.’
‘What is it?’ asked Indavara.
‘Could a woman have carried out the killings?’
The bodyguard’s disbelieving grin faded quickly
when he saw Cassius was serious. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. The way it was done needed more skill than strength. Would explain the height difference.’
Cassius turned to Trogus. ‘Do you know where she might be?’
‘Her family were from Birrenia – a village about ten miles away.’
The steward scratched at his beard again and stared out at the road. ‘By Jupiter, can it really be?’
‘We don’t know anything for certain yet,’ warned Cassius.
‘Shall I have your horses fetched, sir?’ asked Trogus.
‘Do so.’
The steward hurried back to the men and sent off two of the stable lads. The others were left standing in a line, whispering to one another.
‘A woman? Really?’ said Indavara quietly as he and Cassius returned to the front door.
‘I know, but what else do we have to go on?’
Cassius addressed the men again: ‘There was one more hand up. Who’s yet to speak?’
One of the big labourers who’d appeared earlier with Annia stepped forward. ‘Me, sir. It’s not about a stranger or anything, I just thought it was odd.’
‘Speak.’
‘I saw old Astrah just now, a priest from the Temple of Dionysus. I said nothing of the murder but he asked if all was well at the house. He saw Master Memor last night and said he hadn’t seemed quite himself.’
‘I know Astrah,’ added Trogus. ‘Friendly old boy. Master Memor knew him too.’
‘What did he mean “not himself”?’ Cassius asked the labourer.
‘Astrah was on his way home from closing up the temple – about the third hour of night. He saw Master Memor in the garden. He hailed him but Master Memor just raised a hand and continued up to the house.’
Frowning, Cassius turned to Trogus. ‘You said he often worked through the night, but why would he be outside? Might he have been preoccupied or concerned about something?’
‘It’s possible, sir. He did sometimes take a glass of wine and a walk in the orchard, but never at night. He had the courtyard next to his study if he wanted some air.’
‘A meeting perhaps? This girl even.’
Trogus shrugged.
