The Far Shore by Nick Brown

said. Such boots were expensive, and would indeed have looked out of place with the rest of the assassin’s garb. Unfortunately, the cobbler had been so entranced by the suspect’s footwear he couldn’t recall much else, though confirmed he was on the short side.
    ‘Here it is,’ said Sudrenus, tapping a tablet, ‘just the
Lebadea
in on that day. Arrived from Paphos in the morning and left bound for Halicarnassus in the afternoon.’
    ‘Go on.’
    Cassius was sitting on the other side of Sudrenus’s high, marble desk, at right angles to the door, with Simo and Indavara standing behind him. The only thing the well-appointed office had in common with the harbour master’s was the bronze plaques on the wall. The tiled floor was covered with thick, oriental rugs and there were two little statues – one of Zeus, one of Poseidon – mounted on miniature columns at the back of the room.
    ‘Er … the cargo was a load of red clay and … what’s that? Ah yes, grain. That cretin Herma – I can hardly read his writing.’
    ‘The load isn’t important,’ Cassius replied sharply. ‘Passengers.’
    ‘Yes. Three men gave payment.’ The Greek looked up. ‘I insist a record is kept, so that none of the captains take backhanders.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘First, one Carius Asina. Wife and family included. Paid and signed.’
    ‘You know the name?’ asked Cassius.
    ‘Can’t say I do.’
    Without turning round, Cassius pointed at the door. ‘Simo, go and repeat the name Carius Asina to that lot outside. Somebody might know it. Next, Sudrenus?’
    ‘No name. Just one initial – D. No signature.’
    Cassius leant forward over the desk and looked at the D.
    ‘That could be our man. Who did you say was manning the office that day?’
    ‘Herma.’
    ‘Where does he live?’
    ‘No idea.’
    ‘What? One of your employees?’
    Sudrenus shrugged. ‘What do I care where he lives?’
    ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Simo from the door. Knowing the Gaul wouldn’t disturb him without good reason, Cassius got up and walked over. All eyes were on him as Optio Clemens came forward.
    ‘Sir, Carius Asina is a member of the Rhodes Assembly. From one of the old families. Has a lot of land around Hippoteia.’
    ‘Where’s that? Close?’
    ‘No, sir. Middle of the island.’
    Cassius heard a curse from inside the office.
    Sudrenus slapped the tablet. ‘Bloody Herma! Useless little worm!’
    ‘What’s the problem?’ asked Cassius, returning inside.
    ‘The third passenger was Drusus Viator. I expressly told my staff not to allow that man to set foot on one of our vessels.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘He was charged with theft and tax evasion by the municipal court earlier in the year.’
    Cassius was smiling as he hurried back to the door and waved the city sergeants forward. ‘Anyone know a man by the name of Drusus Viator? A thief, apparently.’
    Two of the men shook their heads. The third man spoke: ‘I was with the arrest party. We had to chase him halfway across the Great Harbour.’
    Annia had climbed down from the carriage and was now listening intently to the conversation. ‘This man,’ she said. ‘It was
him
?’
    ‘I don’t think so,’ replied Cassius. ‘But another man on the ship didn’t leave a name, and this Viator might have seen him. If he was on the ship with him all the way from Paphos he may even have spoken to him.’
    He turned to the sergeant. ‘Do you know where Viator lives?’
    ‘I do, sir. Little townhouse not far from Helios.’
    ‘Where’s that?’
    ‘He means the
statue
of Helios,’ said Annia impatiently.
    Cassius resisted the urge to order her back into the carriage.
    ‘Right,’ he told the sergeant. ‘You shall take us there at once. Clemens, I need you to find out what you can about this Asina fellow – he may not have returned home immediately. If he or any of his family are still around we need to speak to them at once. Tell the rest of your men to keep looking. Just because we have a lead here