Simo already had the satchel open. He found the right page and handed it to his master. Cassius checked the notes; Segestes and his colleague had recorded nothing suspicious about the man. He checked the census report once more. Micon was listed as one of Afer’s silversmiths.
‘Well, well. Good spot, Simo.’
Cassius looked at the list of employees again. Another name caught his attention. ‘S. Novius Gallus’. This man had also worked as a silversmith for Afer.
‘Wasn’t there …’
Cassius checked Segestes’s list. Gallus was also one of the retired mint workers. ‘Two! Two of them.’
He examined the notes again; both men had left their jobs at the Tripolis mint the previous year.
Cassius leant back. ‘So, the casters Micon and Gallus leave to take jobs with a bankrupt master who then somehow makes enough money to buy a huge tract of land.’
‘Why didn’t Segestes realise they both work for Afer?’ asked Simo.
‘Maybe they don’t any more. The census is a year old – perhaps they left his employ to cover up their connection. Or maybe Segestes just missed it. In any case, I think it’s time I had a word with Numerius Afer.’
Cassius considered contacting Quentin but the thought of returning to the mint having already identified a solid suspect was just too appealing. The helpful Planta obtained Afer’s current address, which turned out to be barely a quarter-mile from the basilica. The respectable but modest townhouse revealed little about its owner. The servant at the gate revealed even less until Cassius threatened him with arrest for obstructing an imperial agent. Unfortunately, Afer was not at home: he and his wife were attending a function hosted by a local dignitary at a villa south of Tripolis.
The trio called in at the stables by the inn to fetch their mounts then got some directions from the lads there and set off. A mile beyond the city’s south gate, they were delayed by a mass of riders and pedestrians queuing for a horse fair. Cassius employed his most commanding voice to clear a path and they continued on through pastures where young herders and their dogs watched over sheep and goats.
The villa belonged to a man named Megakreon, and the well-paved road that led to his home was marked by a marble stone bearing the name in huge lettering.
‘No chance of anyone missing that,’ said Cassius as they guided the horses on to the road. He could see only a gatehouse about two hundred yards ahead; the rest of the property was replete with ancient oaks, some with trunks ten feet around.
‘I’ve got a good feeling about this Afer character,’ added Cassius. ‘Gods, at this rate, I’ll have this gang in chains by the end of the week.’
‘Why not just watch him?’ suggested Indavara. ‘If he is up to no good you might be able to work out who else is involved.’
‘Yes, but we might also end up watching him for a week and get nowhere. Better to go straight in and catch him out before he hears we’re on to him. See how he reacts. If he’s involved, I’ll know it. And he’ll give every last one of the others up to keep his head out of a noose.’
‘Lucky – spotting those names.’
‘Lucky? No – all that talking and reading you thought so pointless. Proper investigative work. I think it’s my orator’s training – that and my memory, of course. I’ve always been good at making connections, spotting details.’
‘Good for you,’ said Indavara, wincing as he checked his nether regions. ‘But you’d better not wrap it up too quickly or Abascantius might send us off to Egypt after all.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it.’
Stretching out of sight on either side of the gatehouse was a six-foot stone wall. As they reined in, an armed man came up to the imposing iron gate and inspected them. Cassius dismounted, spearhead at the ready.
‘Good day. This is the Megakreon residence?’
‘It is.’
‘I am Centurion Crispian. I need to speak with a man named Numerius Afer and I believe he’s here.’
‘There is a function today.’
‘I know. He’s attending it.’
A second, older man appeared from behind the right side of the arch. ‘Sorry, sir. Master Megakreon gave strict instructions that no one other than guests was to be admitted today.’
‘But you will admit me.’
‘Not unless you have an invitation.’
Cassius held up the spearhead. ‘You do know what this is?’
‘You belong to the governor’s staff.’
It wasn’t necessary to mention that the governor in question ruled Arabia. ‘That’s right. And the Imperial Security Service.’
The older man stepped up close to the bars. ‘Then I would have thought you would know that Master Megakreon has some very influential and powerful friends. And that he would not appreciate an unannounced visit. The function will be over by the seventh hour. You can visit Afer at his own home.’
‘I want to see him now.’
Indavara had also dismounted. He ambled past Cassius and up to the gate. ‘You heard the man. Open up.’
He didn’t usually make a move without being prompted; Cassius reckoned he was still in a bad mood after the previous day.
Indavara stepped back and eyed the wall. ‘Or you can leave it shut. But then I’ll have to climb over, kick the shit out of you two and open it myself.’
Cassius could have stopped the ex-bodyguard but he sometimes enjoyed such moments. With anyone else the two guards might have laughed the threat off or countered with an insult; but a swift look at Indavara’s remarkable frame, countless collection of scars (including his disfigured left ear) and selection of weapons (short sword, dagger and fighting stave) kept them quiet.
Cassius was reluctant to invoke Marshal Marcellinus yet again so tried another tactic. ‘Be assured that what my colleague suggests remains an alternative but I am not here to cause trouble, nor to disturb your master’s function. All I require is a quiet word with Numerius Afer. I’m sure that can be arranged without too much fuss.’
The older man mulled this over. ‘You’ll wait where I tell you to until I’ve consulted Master Megakreon?’
‘By all means.’
The guard took a large key from his belt and opened one side of the gate.
Cassius told Simo to wait outside with the horses. Indavara gestured for him to go through first.
‘Why, thank you.’
IX
Once past the oaks, they could see the full extent of the villa’s grounds. Cassius was reminded of some of the places he’d visited outside Rome; miles of parkland dotted with numerous artificial ponds, undoubtedly containing an impressive variety of fish. As they walked along the broad drive, a peacock strutted past, displaying its plumage as if under instruction from Megakreon.
The villa itself was less remarkable; a sprawling building in the rustic style favoured by Romans who lived a long way from home. To the right of the colonnaded entrance was a broad terrace where dozens of guests had gathered between colourful flowers, gurgling fountains and gleaming statues. A nearby trio of ladies wearing silk gowns with their hair piled high watched the strangers stop outside the front door, which was slightly ajar.
Another guard stood there; a burly man armed with a sword. He and his compatriot spoke briefly in Aramaic.
‘Please wait here,’ said the older guard. As he went inside, the large man moved in front of the door. His hair was cut short and his wide, iron-ringed belt was that of an ex-soldier who wanted people to know he was an ex-soldier. His sword was very similar to Indavara’s.
Cassius took a handkerchief from behind his own belt and mopped his brow. ‘Lovely day.’
The guard just looked at him and sniffed.
Cassius exchanged a grin with Indavara then retreated a few steps and looked over the hedge that separated the drive from the terrace. Though the ladies were displaying nothing but decorum, a group of men were clinking glasses and roaring with laughter. During a break in the noise, Cassius realised he could hear a harp playing inside.