‘Could you find him?’
‘Maybe.’
‘And what about the boys who found the amphoras?’
‘Myrto and his mates got most of ’em. They haven’t been round here for a while. But I think Pallas got a couple too – he lives just over there.’ Leo pointed at a ramshackle apartment block that faced the dump. ‘His mother’s keeping him in, though. He’s ill.’
Cassius waved at Simo. ‘Tie the horses up. Leo, you’ll be going with my man there to get some information from Pallas. But I need to find this Altes too. There must be someone who knows where to find him.’
‘I can ask around.’
‘Good. Let’s see what Pallas can tell us first.’
Simo had tethered the horses to a nearby tree that had been burned down to a blackened stump. ‘Sir?’
‘Young Leo is going to take you to see his friend, who found some denarii in amphoras. You need to find out firstly if he still has any, secondly exactly where they were found. Understood?’
‘Yes, Master Cassius.’
‘Off you go, then, you two.’
The lad turned to Indavara and put out his hand. ‘What about my second-’
‘Boy,’ interjected Cassius. ‘You help us find out where those coins came from and you’ll be getting more than sesterces.’
Leo licked his lips in anticipation and hurried away with Simo.
‘Why aren’t we going?’ asked Indavara. ‘You don’t want to get ill?’
‘There’s that. Plus Simo’s very adept with the common sort. If a protective mother sees you and me there she’s going to get anxious.’
‘So what do you think?’
‘Misshapen coins? There’s no mint in Berytus. I suppose there could be some in circulation from other attempts at fakery, but it’s promising, very promising. Well done.’
Indavara looked genuinely pleased with himself, which made Cassius wish he didn’t have to ask the question. ‘So tell me – what were you doing down here before dawn?’
‘I was …’
‘With the Christians?’
Eventually, Indavara nodded.
‘But Simo was with me at the tower.’
‘There’s a girl.’
‘Is there, now? Your interest becomes plain at last.’
Indavara looked away.
‘Well, as you appeared to have uncovered our first decent lead you shall not hear me complain this time.’ Cassius looked out at the expanse of refuse and showed his distaste at the sour smell drifting out of it. ‘By the gods, this assignment becomes more prestigious by the day.’
Half an hour later, Leo led them to the other side of the dump, Simo following with the horses. The lad eventually stopped by the ditch and swept a hand at the refuse. ‘Here. Pallas said somewhere in here. The amphoras were red.’
The closest pile of refuse was ten foot high and there must have been at least five hundred pieces of red clay in view.
‘The pale red?’ Cassius pointed at one fragment in particular. ‘Not the red-brown?’
‘Pale red.’
‘Did the lads leave the amphoras or take them?’
‘Not sure.’
Cassius stood there, thinking.
Indavara spoke to Simo. ‘You’re sure Pallas doesn’t have any coins left?’
‘I don’t think he was lying. He traded them with this man Altes for food.’
‘We’ll never find the right amphoras in all that,’ said Indavara. ‘And how will we know them if the coins have gone anyway? Shouldn’t we try and find Altes?’
Cassius was standing by the ditch. Noting all the wheel marks in the dirt, he beckoned Leo over. ‘Carts often dump things here?’
‘Yes – it’s close to the street. But the sergeants will fine them if they see it.’
‘Because they’re supposed to drive into the middle?’
‘Yes – to stop the ditch filling up.’
‘When do the sergeants come?’
‘Now and again.’
‘Not every day?’
‘No.’
‘Do you know any of their names?’
‘No.’ Leo started picking his scabs again.
‘Get me one of those fragments, would you?’
The lad leapt the ditch and grabbed one then returned and handed it to Cassius.
‘Simo, you’re going to stay with Leo. The two of you are to ask around and try and find Altes. If you do, questions to ask: firstly, what did they look like; secondly, what did he do with them; thirdly, does he have any idea where they came from? Got all that?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We’ll meet you back at the tower. Take as long as you need.’
‘Very well, sir.’ Simo didn’t look particularly enamoured with his new assignment.
Cassius grabbed his reins and mounted up.
‘So where are we going?’ asked Indavara.
‘To find Cosmas.’
Neither of them particularly felt like hanging around at the headquarters – especially with all the curious sergeants watching – so they adjourned to the fish restaurant. Cosmas warned that it might take him a while to get the information Cassius had requested and it was almost midday when he joined them.
‘Hot again,’ he said, plucking his sticky tunic off his chest as he sat down beside Indavara.
Cassius examined the scrap of paper the sergeant had just given him.
‘Those are the names of all the refuse collectors fined for improper use of a dump in the last year.’
‘Nine. That’s their business – refuse collection?’
‘There’s quite a demand for it, especially in the centre where space is limited. They have a fleet of carts and labourers – they take the rubbish, sort what they can to sell on, then get rid of the rest.’
‘Why are three underlined?’
‘The list didn’t specify at which location the penalty was incurred but I did a bit more asking around and those three are the only fined outfits that use that dump.’
‘Ah, well done. You can take us to them?’
‘Certainly, though I need a drink first.’ Cosmas waved at one of the maids and ordered some wine. Cassius refused on behalf of himself and Indavara – they’d already had two each.
‘Anything more on the smugglers?’
‘Up to a dozen arrests now, and half a warehouse of seized goods. The lead officers are reporting directly to Pomponianus but Diadromes has found out that the bronze was for selling on – to a furniture-maker in Ouzai. Nothing to interest us, I’m afraid. Oh, I’m also supposed to remind you about that daily report for the magistrate.’
‘I haven’t forgotten. Let’s just hope there is something more to report.’
It took them an hour to reach the first place; largely on account of an altercation between a group of performers and a squad of legionaries. The dancers and actors (genuine actors this time) were performing an unsubtle play mocking both Nemetorius and Pomponianus. Fortunately, a senior city sergeant arrived and calmed the situation.
The refuse-collecting business was housed in a fenced yard with three large carts, one of which was being repaired. They found the owner – a surprisingly young Greek – inside a shack, doing his accounts. He looked alarmed when Cosmas mentioned the fines but cheered up when Cassius put a denarius on his desk and enquired about red amphoras. The Greek disclosed that his outfit had previously disposed of the broken vessels at the dump but for the last eight months had been selling them on to a builder who used them for foundation material.
The next outfit was only a few streets away. The yard was similar to the Greek’s but silent and secured by a locked gate. Cosmas called out but no one appeared.
The third place was half a mile away but considerably closer to the dump. This outfit was the largest of the three, with half a dozen carts lined up and a crew of five labourers sorting through a pile of scrap metal and wood.
Cosmas questioned them and discovered that the owner was out. He showed the men the fragment of amphora and they laughed, replying that it could have come from anywhere. Having been buoyed by Indavara’s discovery, Cassius felt a familiar sense of frustration returning.
As they had spoken in Greek, he took up the questioning. ‘So all of you have unloaded similar amphoras at that dump?’