The gate swung open and he came out first. He was very average looking; the type of man you wouldn’t really notice.
‘Come on, love, we’ll be late.’
She was also pretty average looking, though a bit taller than her husband. While he locked the gate, she fiddled with her hair for a moment then realised she was being watched. She touched her husband on the back.
Indavara looked both ways along the street; there was no one around.
They seemed so harmless. But they were the devils. They were the ones who thought Mahalie was theirs – to do with as they pleased. Cut her hair. Cut her skin.
The woman snatched the keys from her husband and moved back towards the gate. Indavara came forward quickly, cutting her off. They retreated, shoes sliding across the stone. They held hands and the man muttered something. Indavara reached for his dagger but his fingers brushed against the smooth head of the figurine tucked behind his belt.
Fortuna.
He took it out and stared at it.
He heard them moving – walking, then running – but he couldn’t take his eyes off the goddess’s face. When he finally looked up they were gone.
Alexon was so far ahead that he had time to slow down as he approached the stream. He turned and saw Amathea galloping out of the trees, hair streaming behind her. A shame he hadn’t been able to watch her but he’d always been the better rider and was determined to remain so. His mount splashed through the shallow water and leaped nimbly up the bank on to the track.
‘Good boy,’ he said, slapping the horse’s neck.
Amathea had given up now and was trotting across the meadow. As she came closer he enjoyed the inevitable pout and bouncing breasts. He had still never seen a better figure on a woman anywhere; his sister combined athleticism and voluptuousness to truly devastating effect. Once across the stream and on the track, she drew up beside him.
‘Well done, brother.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘How well you know me. Where are those girls? They were supposed to meet us here with the picnic.’
‘They’ll be along presently. I have a blanket here. We could find a nice spot and … well …’
With production back under way at the factory, Amathea was in a good mood; he wanted to take advantage of it.
‘Lunch first. I shall be your dessert.’ She looked down and fingered drops of sweat off her cleavage. ‘What would you like?’
Alexon wondered whether to risk it. How good a mood was she in? But once the idea had come to him, he couldn’t resist. He tapped the object tucked into his saddle by his right leg.
‘You want to take your whip to me, Alexon? It’s been a while.’
Already hot from the ride, he now felt almost faint. He was about to dismount when he heard the thrumming of hooves behind him.
‘Skiron?’ said Amathea.
The old attendant was charging towards them, clods of earth flying up behind his horse. Alexon saw his heavenly afternoon drifting away from him.
Skiron reined in and took a moment to catch his breath. ‘Mistress, Master.’
‘What is it?’ asked Amathea.
‘Yesterday a municipal inspector carried out a safety check on the factory.’
‘And?’
‘They checked other sites too but the inspector had a clerk with him. I got a description from Bathyllos – tall, brown hair, very light skin.’
‘Crispian,’ hissed Alexon. If he hadn’t been on his horse he would have punched something.
‘Probably,’ said Skiron. ‘But Bathyllos is pretty sure they didn’t see anything.’
‘Pretty sure?’ yelled Alexon. The outburst disturbed his horse, and it took a few vicious tugs on his reins to get it back under control.
‘Calm down, brother,’ said Amathea. ‘They would have acted by now if they suspected something.’
‘Not necessarily. They’re probably watching the place.’
‘You don’t know that. Anything from Kallikres?’
Skiron shook his head.
Alexon couldn’t believe that this accursed investigator was still pursuing them. ‘We’ll have to stop production again.’
‘No,’ said Amathea. ‘The next shipment isn’t going out for three days. Even if they are watching, the men can keep working.’
‘Amathea, they could raid the factory at any moment. Bathyllos knows Skiron, he could lead them to us.’
‘Surely this is why we hid the workshop.’
‘We have to know more. Skiron, find Kallikres and tell him that if we don’t find out what this Crispian bastard is up to he’ll never see his little friend again.’
‘Sir, Kallikres is not an easy person-’
‘Now, Skiron.’
‘Yes, Master.’ The attendant spun his horse around and rode off.
Alexon spat on the ground. ‘By the gods, I knew this day was going far too well.’
‘So forthright, brother. You are at your best when we face a challenge. I do so like it when you show your teeth.’
‘I thought we were safe,’ he said as they dismounted.
‘We don’t know anything for certain yet. Even if this Crispian is getting too close we can take care of him.’ Amathea let go of her reins, walked over to Alexon’s horse and took out the whip. ‘The girls still aren’t here. Since you’ve suggested the idea, I must confess I now feel quite keen on it. Come, we must be quick.’
XXXI
‘Where in Hades have you been?’
Cassius had already breakfasted and was drafting another letter to Abascantius and Marcellinus when Indavara returned.
The bodyguard shut the door behind him and mumbled something to Simo, who was brushing down Cassius’s riding boots. The attendant fetched him some water.
‘Well? Must be the fourth hour.’
Indavara’s hair was even messier than usual and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. ‘Long night.’
‘And? The factory?’
‘At about the eighth hour some watchmen came past and the guards spoke to them for a minute or two. At about the eleventh hour a group arrived and was let inside.’
‘A group? How many?’
‘Maybe eight or ten.’
‘Eleventh hour, eh? About right if you wanted to get people in without the rest of the workers or anyone else noticing. Well done. You should get some sleep. Tonight could be another long one.’
Indavara took the water from Simo and glugged it down then sat on his bed. He wrenched off his boots, laid back and closed his eyes.
Cassius considered the implications of what he’d heard. A quiet night at the factory – did that suggest all was continuing as normal? Even if the visit with Molacus hadn’t aroused any suspicion, he couldn’t afford to wait around: he had to see inside. With real evidence they could widen the investigation and involve Pomponianus; make sure they caught the whole gang and closed the counterfeiting operation down permanently. Cassius smiled as he thought of writing that letter.
But this one would give no indication of his belief that they were close; it would be a simple summary of how the investigation was progressing. He finished the first paragraph then realised it was better to stop. Cosmas was to spend the day investigating Bathyllos, the owners, and anything else he could find out about the factory. If he discovered anything useful, it would be best to include it. Cassius reread the paragraph – no mistakes – and left the ink to dry. He put his silver pen in the holder and got up from the table.
Indavara still had his eyes closed. Cassius considered asking about the girl but he reckoned the bodyguard might not want to talk about it in front of Simo. In any case, as long as it didn’t affect his work, it wasn’t of great importance. They would be leaving Berytus soon; he would simply have to forget her.