The harbour master spoke up too: ‘He’s right, Korinth. Put it down. There’s no real harm done yet.’
Korinth was breathing hard, teeth set in a snarl, but after a few moments he lowered the spike.
One of the sergeants came forward. ‘Hand it over.’
Korinth gave the young sergeant the weapon but he was still glaring at Indavara. ‘You better hope we don’t meet again.’
Indavara gave a crooked smile as he lowered the stave, then slung it over his back. ‘I thought sailors were supposed to be tough. Stick to tying ropes, friend.’
Korinth made another lunge for him but by this time he was surrounded by the sergeants. After a brief struggle, they locked his arms by his side.
‘You have a cell?’ asked Cassius.
‘Yes.’
The magistrate pointed at Korinth. ‘Take him back to headquarters.’
‘Him too,’ said Cassius pointing at the second sailor, who was hunched over, retching.
‘Why?’
‘He pulled a knife on us.’
‘Very well. Men — him too.’
The other sailor straightened up and came forward voluntarily. ‘All right. I’m coming.’ He shook his head. ‘Drinking in the morning. Why do I do it?’
The four uninjured sergeants escorted Korinth and his friend away through the small crowd that had gathered. The magistrate instructed the other two to get up, then puffed out his chest. ‘You people move along. I am Chief Inspector of the Municipality and I command it. Move along there! Move along!’
The crowd reluctantly broke up, all except the boys, who were still staring at Indavara. Cassius strode over to the harbour master and poked him in the arm. ‘Get back to your office. I want to see all your documentation regarding arrivals and departures for the last week. Understood?’
‘It’s all right,’ added the magistrate. ‘You can do as the officer says.’
‘Yes, sirs,’ said the harbour master before trotting away.
‘Might I have a word?’ said Cassius.
The magistrate followed him into the narrow alley between the tavern and the house next door.
‘What was the name again?’
‘Nariad. And yours?’
‘Corbulo.’
Nariad was a slender man with a long, curved nose and a thick head of oiled black hair. His cloak was lined with silver braid and he had rings on most of his fingers.
Cassius took the spearhead out of his satchel and held it so that the point was only a couple of inches from Nariad’s chin. ‘Know what this is?’
The magistrate’s eyes almost crossed as he looked down. ‘Of course,’ he gulped.
‘Then you’ll know that it obliges any official or soldier I encounter to lend me assistance: immediate and unquestioning assistance — not that I would even need to be involved if you’d done your job in the first place. Tell me why you aren’t in Amyndios right now, investigating the death of Augustus Marius Memor.’
‘I was planning to ride over later this morning. A tragedy. A great loss.’
Nariad failed to imbue his words with even a vestige of genuine concern.
‘Not a tragedy,’ said Cassius. ‘A killing. The murder of the second in command of the Imperial Security Service.’
Nariad seemed to regain a little nerve. He reached for the small silver club on the chain round his neck and held it up. ‘I wonder, young man, do you know what this is? You seem to imagine I have nothing else to concern me.’
‘This investigation must take precedence. You say you didn’t receive the message sent by Optio Clemens on my behalf?’
‘I was out of the city most of yesterday and last night. As well as the assembly meeting tomorrow, I have an outbreak of pestilence on the east of the island to deal with. I cannot be everywhere at once! In fact, it’s lucky for you that my men and I happened to be passing.’
Cassius almost laughed. ‘By the great gods. How much did you pay for your position? It clearly wasn’t attained through merit.’
Nariad looked genuinely shocked. ‘You can’t talk to me like that! I shall go straight to the governor.’
Cassius was in no mood for compromise; he knew he held the upper hand. ‘Were this a bigger, more important city, in a bigger, more important province, that might concern me. But if I inform Chief Pulcher that you not only failed to take charge of this investigation with appropriate haste, but also obstructed my efforts, it will take more than the help of some second-rate governor to save you. I don’t even know the man’s name. But I see you know Pulcher’s.’
The colour had drained from Nariad’s face. It wasn’t the first time Cassius had invoked his ultimate superior, and the response was invariably the same. Abascantius had assured him that the chief was a noble man and a true patriot, but Pulcher’s reputation was that of a ruthless spymaster, a man who would do anything he considered necessary to safeguard the interests of the Empire. He had served four emperors and brought down generals, governors and senators in his time.
‘I have a signed letter of authorisation from him,’ Cassius continued. ‘Would you like to see it?’
He did have such a letter, though it was actually back at the way station.
‘No, no,’ replied Nariad. ‘That won’t be necessary. After a moment’s reflection I see that you’re right, Officer. I have been lax.’
Cassius marched out of the alley. He was too angry to draw any satisfaction from the exchange; the whole incident had wasted more valuable time.
‘Tell me, Officer,’ said Nariad, hurrying after him. ‘How is the investigation progressing? What exactly can I do to help?’
V
‘I apologise, sir,’ said the harbour master, removing his cap and turning it in his hands as Cassius, Indavara and Simo walked into his office. ‘I should have come when you asked me to. Now Korinth and Magga are in trouble on my account.’
‘Indeed they are,’ Cassius replied. ‘And you’re damned lucky not to be joining them. You do however have an immediate chance to redeem yourself. What’s your name?’
‘Akritos.’
The harbour master was standing behind a rickety desk stained with oil and wax. Also present was his young clerk, who was by a shelf stacked with boxes of documentation. Mounted on the wall were several bronze plaques with statements in Greek reinforcing the authority of the harbour master under local and imperial law.
‘First, tell me this,’ said Cassius. ‘Have any ships left this morning?’
Akritos turned to the clerk, who shook his head.
‘Lucky,’ said Cassius. ‘Especially for Nariad.’
The magistrate had left, now promising to devote all available resources to the investigation.
‘Anything scheduled to leave today?’ asked Cassius.
The clerk stepped forward. ‘An Egyptian freighter was supposed to be leaving first thing, sir. Captain hasn’t been in yet though.’
‘So they’re still here?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We keep a good lookout,’ added Akritos, pointing to a ladder at the rear of the room running up to a hatch. ‘Plus they have to come and pay their wharf dues and organise a tow-out if they need one.’
Cassius glanced down at the open leather-bound book on the desk. ‘Is that what I asked for?’
‘It is.’
‘You keep a record of every departure or arrival?’
‘Only for ships — which are vessels with a hold wider than eight yards.’
‘Show me the departures from yesterday,’ Cassius instructed.
Akritos struggled to find the right page amongst the loose sheets yet to be tied into the book. The clerk swiftly took over and located it.
‘Here, sir,’ said the young man. ‘Six vessels in all.’
‘Really?’ queried Cassius. ‘At this time of year?’
‘That’s because of Phalalis,’ replied the harbour master, ‘the old boy the captains go to for their weather. He said there’d be pretty clear skies for three days so a few of them made a run for it yesterday. Might not get another chance this season.’