Nick Brown - The Far Shore

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.’

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.’