David Wishart - Parthian Shot

I told her. She was quiet for a long time. Then she said: ‘You’re sure?’

‘Hundred per cent certain.’ I yawned and stretched. ‘From what Isak said, it’s the only explanation. And it fits the devious old bugger to a tee.’

‘But — ’

‘Look, I’m sorry, Perilla, but can we leave this?’ Giving in to that yawn had been a mistake; it was threatening to become a second, and my eyelids had suddenly come out in sympathy and decided they weren’t going to stay open any longer. ‘I’m whacked. If I’m going over to the Janiculan first thing I have to pack in now.’

‘First thing? That’s not necessary, surely? In any case, if Phraates isn’t expecting you an early morning visit is terribly rude.’

I stood up; the second yawn made my jaw crack. ‘That’s why I’m doing it. And as far as rudeness is concerned the way I feel about him currently being hauled out of bed is the least he can expect. Plus if he was the one to hassle you then he’ll be lucky if I don’t do it personally with a rusty grapnel.’

Perilla grinned and ducked her head. ‘Very well, Marcus. But don’t be too hard on him, will you? I’m sure if he was responsible for sending those two men they exceeded their instructions.’

Right. Well, maybe, but obviously the lady still had a soft spot for the old bugger. Even so, I wasn’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt. No way.

Phraates had it coming. Tired or not, tomorrow morning I intended to hand the lying bastard his head.

Actually, when I woke up I didn’t feel too bad. Unlike Perilla, I can get by on three or four hours of sleep, in the short term, anyway, and besides the sun was streaming through the bedroom window. I slipped out of bed without waking the lady — after our late night she wouldn’t be surfacing for hours yet — and went downstairs. A shave could wait, but Bathyllus was padding around so I sent him for a bread roll that I could eat on the way and set out for the Janiculan.

It was a long walk, but it stretched my stiffened riding muscles nicely. By the time I got there it was still a good hour before even the most unconventional visitor would dream of banging the knocker. Not that that worried me all that much. Like I’d said to Perilla, if I got the bastard off his mattress before his usual time then that was just tough.

‘Marcus Valerius Corvinus,’ I said to the door-slave when he opened up. ‘I’ve come to see the master.’

The guy balked a bit, sure, but he let me in anyway and shot off like a greased ferret to consult higher authority. I twiddled my thumbs in the very fancy porch — murals of Leda and the Swan and the Rape of Ganymede plus a pricey-looking still-life floor mosaic — until Phraates’s major-domo appeared. He gave my unshaven face a pointed stare but he didn’t comment as he led me through the villa and showed me into a pleasant morning-room looking out on the grounds. Peacocks strutted on the carefully-manicured lawn outside the windows, and a couple of supercilious ostriches peered over the top of the ornamental box hedge. There was a small water-clock in one corner of the room. I twiddled my thumbs again and tried to ignore the drip.

Phraates strolled in about half an hour later, wearing a dressing-gown that wouldn’t’ve disgraced a cat-house madam.

‘Corvinus,’ he said, ‘I’m delighted to see you at any time, of course, but don’t you think — ?’

‘You set up the attack on your own litter,’ I said.

If I’d thought he’d be thrown, he wasn’t. All I got was a long look and a pair of delicately-raised eyebrows.

‘Did I, indeed?’ he said. ‘Well, well.’

Jupiter on bloody skates, the bugger couldn’t even manage a straight denial, even if it was a lie! Par for the course. I felt my temper slip and let it go.

‘Look, pal,’ I said. ‘I’ve been breaking my fucking neck trying to make a connection between Zariadres’s murder and what happened at the Esquiline Gate, and that was you all the time. You never were in any danger, or not from that direction, anyway. You took out a contract on yourself and you made sure the knifemen you hired wouldn’t touch a hair of your fucking head. I ought to — ’

‘What you ought to do, young man,’ Phraates interrupted sharply, ‘is to calm down and stop swearing.’ He pulled up an ivory chair that could’ve belonged to one of the Pharaohs. ‘It’s too early in the morning for that sort of thing. Hermogenes’ — the major-domo was hovering goggle-eyed — ‘Bring us some breakfast, please. In here on a tray will do. Have you eaten, Corvinus?’

‘Forget breakfast. All I want is for you to — ’

‘Nothing elaborate, Hermogenes. But make it quick.’ The major-domo bowed himself out. Phraates turned back to me. ‘Now. Calmly, please. Why should you think I organised the attack on my own litter and caused the death of three of my own bodyguard? I’m fascinated, really.’

‘Because you knew Tiridates was trying to kill you. You wanted an excuse to tighten security, but — and Jupiter help us here — you didn’t want to offend the guy by citing him as the reason.’

‘Indeed?’ Phraates’s expression unfroze and he chuckled. ‘You know, Corvinus, I think I may have said this before, but you’d make quite a good Parthian.’

‘Am I right or not?’

‘Of course you’re right. There’s no point in my denying it.’

‘Then why the hell not tell me in the first place? Or if not me then Isidorus? That attack on your litter was the reason I was drafted in to begin with.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Isidorus knows already by this time, if he didn’t before. He does have a very efficient spy system, after all, and he’s no fool.’ I opened my mouth. ‘And nor are you. I’m impressed. Really. How did you find out?’

‘I talked to the boss of the gang who did it.’

‘Isak? Well, well. I used a very secure intermediary, one of my Syrian freedmen. I didn’t know that Isak was aware who his ultimate employer was.’

‘He wasn’t. Or if he was he didn’t care. I just read between the lines.’

‘Then I am impressed. Not least that you managed to track the man down and persuade him to talk to you, then come away with a whole skin. How did you do that, by the way?’

It might just be simple curiosity but I wasn’t going to risk Lippillus and his Ostian pal getting into trouble, so I ignored the question. Instead, I said: ‘Isak and his gang killed three of your bodyguard.’

‘Yes.’ I’d’ve liked to believe that the change to a more sombre expression and tone were genuine, but I wouldn’t’ve made any bets. Phraates could give a crying crocodile a run for its money. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re saying there, but that was necessary. To be convincing. And the threat from Tiridates was very real. Another two or three days and if I’d allowed things to take their course he might have had me.’ He smiled. ‘Not that I feel any ill-will towards him, mind, even now, any more than I’m sure he does for me, on a personal level. It’s in the blood. We Parthian royals do love intrigue and assassination.’

Yeah, right; that I would believe. ‘I don’t suppose you killed Zariadres as well while you were about it, did you? Or had him killed?’

‘Good gods, no! Why on earth would I do that?’

‘Search me, pal. Not that a denial matters because I reckon you can lie as easy as breathe. Maybe he was Artabanus’s sister in a false beard.’ My anger was draining away; you couldn’t stay angry with Phraates for long. He might be a devious, conniving, three-faced twister but — witness his effect on Perilla — the guy had a natural charm. ‘Okay. So how did it work? Just for my personal records, you understand?’