David Wishart - Parthian Shot

He didn’t move, but the hardness of the stare relaxed. Suddenly, he laughed, showing a set of perfect teeth like marble tombstones. ‘Well, Roman,’ he said, ‘you’ve got balls anyway. And Lanuvinius is okay for a Watchman. Maybe I let you talk a little longer. As for answering questions, we’ll see what they are first.’ He turned to the barwoman. ‘Pour us the rest of the jug and bring it over.’ The eyes came back to me. ‘All right, Corvinus. Let’s talk. In private.’

He picked up his own wine-cup and led the way to a table in the far corner. It was already occupied, and although he didn’t say anything the two men sitting at it got up like someone had pulled their strings and moved quickly over to the bar. The table next to them emptied like magic too. Isak sat down and motioned to the chair opposite.

‘Well?’ he said when we were both facing each other.

‘The guy in the litter was a Parthian prince,’ I said. ‘Name of Phraates.’ He grunted, but his stare didn’t waver. ‘You knew that?’

‘No. The contract was just to hit the litter party.’ His tone was matter-of-fact. I glanced round; not an eye was pointed in our direction. If Isak wanted a private conversation then private it was. He hadn’t even bothered to lower his voice. Evidently it was up to the other guys not to listen in. I had the distinct impression listening in uninvited would not be a wise move. ‘We were told when and where, and what was the target. No names. But I’ve heard of Phraates.’

‘Can I ask who told you?’

‘A man. Just a man.’

‘Roman or foreign?’ That might make a difference. Sure, it was unlikely that the principal would’ve arranged the deal in person, but although a ‘Roman’ contractor — including the non-Romans Tiridates and Mithradates who were long-term residents of the City — would’ve had access to both types of middle-man, anyone from the delegation would be forced to use one of their own people. If the rep was a complete foreigner it would point the finger at one of the embassy for sure. Not that there was any doubt in my mind that a Parthian was responsible, whether he belonged to the embassy or not: let alone the cui bono aspect, Parthians, even Roman-bred ones, get on better with Jews than we do. No Roman would hire a Jewish gang out of choice. There’d be too much ingrained national prejudice on both sides and too many hackles raised for either party to trust the other fully. We stick to our own villains.

Isak was studying me carefully. ‘He had money to pay for the job up front and a bonus on top if we did it well. That was enough. Roman, foreign, it makes no difference to me.’

‘So you don’t know his name?’

‘No.’ The woman arrived with the jug, set it down beside him and moved off quickly. Isak poured for both of us, studiously correct. ‘Names I’m not interested in. If that’s what you wanted then you’re wasting your time. And me, if I’m you I don’t push, okay, because if I do happen to know somehow I don’t tell you and that sort of question annoys me.’ He sipped his wine. ‘Just a friendly warning.’

Warning it certainly was; friendly I wouldn’t’ve betted on, not given the guy’s tone. Well, I couldn’t’ve expected much else. And like I say the contractor wouldn’t’ve worked propria persona in any case, so the chances of Isak fingering Tiridates or whoever by name were on the scale of flying pigs. ‘He told you what the litter party would look like, and where exactly to set up the, uh, meeting?’ I said.

‘That’s right.’

‘How far in advance?’

‘A day. Two days. Yes, it was two days.’

Pretty good notice. I didn’t know how long the dinner party Phraates had been coming back from had been arranged, but that didn’t matter all that much. Naming the particular evening would’ve been relatively easy; getting the time and place right exactly was something else again. Phraates could’ve left early, or even — if it was a good party — stayed the night: any friend of his wouldn’t be stuck for a spare bed if he’d decided to sleep over. And possible routes between the Esquiline and the Agrippan Bridge might not be all that many, but there was definitely more than one. Put all that together and whoever had set the thing up must’ve had access to pretty reliable information; maybe even — if that was possible — someone in the prince’s own household who knew his habits and who could engineer the route in advance. I’d have to have another word with Phraates himself, check if anyone fitted the bill. Besides his son, I mean: it was looking pretty good for the Damon theory here. ‘So,’ I said. ‘You were contracted to hit Prince Phraates’s litter near Maecenas Gardens and the attack went wrong — ’

I stopped. Isak had sat back, and he was scowling at me. Behind my back I could hear a rustle as the incurious punters picked up on the changed vibes and decided it might be playtime after all. My stomach froze.

Shit; what had I said?

Isak’s eyes were locked on mine, and they weren’t friendly any more. Not friendly at all. ‘We’re the best in Ostia, my brothers and me,’ he said quietly. ‘In Rome, too. Anything we’re paid to do, it doesn’t go wrong. You have that? You understand, maybe?’

His Latin was slipping; his accent, too. Oh, bugger; I’d touched his professional vanity. Why the hell couldn’t I just’ve kept my big mouth shut? ‘Ah…I just thought…since the attack was beaten off and the prince survived…’

‘If we contract to kill then we kill. Whoever the target, however many bodyguards.’ The eyes were boring holes in my skull. ‘If the client wants a death and pays for it then there’s a death.’

‘Uh…right. Right. No problem, pal. I was just — ’ I stopped as the implication of what he was saying sank in. ‘Wait a minute. Wait one minute. You’re telling me the client didn’t want Phraates killed?’

‘We were told attack the litter party. If one or two of them die then that’s okay, no problem, but we don’t threaten the litter itself. On that the client is very, very clear. That is the contract. You understand me? I think, Corvinus, that maybe you had better.’

Oh, fuck; I didn’t believe this. It turned the whole case on its head. ‘You were paid to have a quick scrap with Phraates’s bodyguards then give up the fight and run?’

There was a low growl from behind me. Isak’s stare didn’t waver, but the scowl deepened. ‘If I’m you, Roman purple-striper,’ he said slowly, staring over my shoulder, ‘Then I watch my language better, maybe. I don’t use bad words like “run”. I already told you. The contract was attack the litter party, spill a little blood then leave. If anyone’s hurt on our side there’s blood money paid, generous blood money, but however things go we don’t harm the old man. We keep our part of the bargain, always. We fulfil the contract to the letter; that’s why we’re the best. We fulfil it this time. To the letter. Now I think perhaps you should walk while you still can move. I don’t think my friends want you here longer. Me, I’d agree with them.’

I stood up. ‘Uh…right. Fine. Thanks for the chat.’

‘Don’t mention it.’ The eyes were like nails. ‘Give my regards to Lanuvinius. Tell him he owes me.’

I walked to the door through a silence that had razors in it. One of the punters at a nearby table got up, opened it for me and then stood aside. I went out into the fresh air and the door was slammed behind me.

That had been a close one.

I made my way back to the Watch-house, but Lanuvinius wasn’t there so I left a message and my thanks, collected my horse from Market Square and began the long trip home. Not that, this time, I grudged the ride; I needed space to think.