‘Yes. And shall we take bets on whether it is arterial or venous?’
‘I am not a gambling man, Porfiry Petrovich,’ said Virginsky, his cold disapproval on the edge of self-righteousness.
‘Pity.’ Porfiry seemed to notice for the first time that Zamyotov was still lurking by the door, like a porter waiting for a tip. ‘Was there something else, Alexander Grigorevich?’
‘He’s here.’
‘Who is here?’
‘The new man. Your … servant. I have interviewed the applicants. My recommendation is waiting to see you.’
‘I see.’ Porfiry looked down at the louche, seedy sleeve around his hand. ‘Yes. Perhaps now would be as good a time as any to see him.’
Zamyotov was gone from the room before Porfiry had finished the sentence. A moment later, a young man with pomaded hair came in. He was dressed in a respectable enough jacket and clutched a well-brushed black bowler in both hands. One of his eyebrows appeared to be permanently arched, which gave his face an ironic expression. This seemed, however, to be due purely to an unfortunate disposition of features, and could not be held against him. Porfiry made a conscious effort to overlook it. He could not, however, ignore the small nick in the man’s left earlobe, evidence of a piercing.
‘Good day,’ said Porfiry, taking the individual in with a nod. ‘And you are?’
The young man was looking around Porfiry’s chambers with a quick, hungry eye. When he caught sight of the stained tunic, a jolt of excitement shook his head back perceptibly. Remembering himself, he gave Porfiry an enquiring glance. It was a look to which his asymmetrical eyebrows were especially suited. A moment’s thought produced the name: ‘Svyatoslav. You may call me Slava.’ After a further hesitation, he added, ‘Your honour.’
‘Slava, very good. Your full name?’
‘Svyatoslav Andreevich.’
‘Svyatoslav Andreevich — ye-es?’
‘Svyatoslav Andreevich Tushin.’
‘Thank you, Svyatoslav Andreevich. And what experience do you have as a gentleman’s gentleman?’
Slava seemed a little taken aback by the question, as if it were the last question he had expected. ‘I have given my references to the other one,’ he said in some irritation, pointing vaguely out of the door.
‘I’m sure they are satisfactory. I merely wished to talk to you about it. To chat, one might say. Your previous employer was …?’
‘Count Drozdov.’
‘Count Drozdov. A titled gentleman, goodness. I am afraid that working for a lowly public servant such as myself will be something of a step-down for you.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘That’s just as well. And why was your employment with Count Drozdov terminated?’
‘He hanged himself. Out of shame. You must have read about it in the Gazette?’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘You would have remembered if you’d read it. The account was brilliantly done.’
‘I see. One question occurs to me …’
‘What was he ashamed of?’ supplied Slava quickly, his superior eyebrow jumping even higher.
‘I have no wish to pry into that.’
‘I would have thought that would have been of interest to a man like you.’ Slava again cast an eager glance around the room. ‘Given your occupation, I mean to say.’
‘It is of no interest to me whatsoever. I merely wonder how Count Drozdov was able to supply a reference when …’ Porfiry allowed the sentence to trail off delicately.
‘He wrote it before he did himself in.’
‘That was indeed considerate of him. One might even say excessively considerate.’
‘I could see the way it was headed. The scandal affected him badly. For a man of honour like that, there was only one way out. I took the liberty of troubling his Excellency for a reference, just in case my suspicions were borne out by events, as sadly they were.’
‘And that was very perspicacious of you.’
Slava shrugged. ‘And not a moment too soon. I got it off him the very day he put the halter round his neck.’
Porfiry cleared his throat. ‘By whom were you employed before Count Drozdov?’
‘Before Count Drozdov?’
‘Yes.’
‘Prince Shch.’
‘That is an unusual name.’
‘It was not his full name, of course.’
‘Would you care to confide his full name?’
‘It was a long time ago,’ said Slava carelessly.
‘And what happened to Prince Shch? Not another suicide, I trust?’
‘He died of a wasting disease.’
‘How unfortunate. I hope you were able to extract a reference from him before the ultimate moment?’
‘The disease took several years to run its course. I was prepared.’
‘I confess, I am almost afraid to take you on, Slava. I fear what may become of me. Do you have any former employers who are still with us?’
‘Before Prince Shch, I was a waiter. At a well known restaurant near Nevsky Prospekt. It is still in business, I believe, though no one will remember me there now. It was…’
‘A long time ago, I know,’ said Porfiry. ‘Now then, do you have any questions of me?’
‘Are you any nearer finding Yelena Filippovna’s murderer?’
‘I meant regarding your employment. I see you are a devoted reader of the St Petersburg Gazette.’
‘Of course.’
‘That aspect of my life will be of no interest to you. You will work for me in a private capacity. Mostly in my apartment, though at times you will be called upon to serve me here in my chambers.’
‘I am to be employed, then?’
‘It is not yet decided. I thank you for your time. You will be informed of my decision by letter.’
‘He said the position was mine, if I wanted it.’
‘He?’
‘The other one.’ Slava repeated the vague hand gesture that went with this designation for Zamyotov.
‘We will have to see about that,’ said Porfiry dismissively.
Slava made one last effort to win the magistrate round. ‘I have some theories of my own, you know,’ he said abruptly. At Porfiry’s flash of interest, he added enticingly: ‘Regarding Yelena Filippovna.’
Porfiry again began to unbind the dressing on his hand. ‘How interesting. Perhaps you would share them with us.’
‘Porfiry Petrovich!’ The objection came from Virginsky. ‘This is hardly appropriate.’
Slava crossed to Porfiry. He took the loose end of the bandage from him and pulled it tight. ‘In cases like this, one always has to ask, who stands to benefit?’
‘Cui bono? But who could possibly benefit from the death of a young girl?’ Porfiry watched the wrapping take shape around his hand with satisfaction.
‘It is well known that the financier Bakhmutov wanted her out of the way. He was prepared to pay his secretary Velchaninov a small fortune to take her off his hands. That fell through because of her quite reasonable scruples. Needless to say, Bakhmutov saw them as unreasonable, and highly inconvenient.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense. Prince Naryskin was about to marry her. Voluntarily, I believe.’
‘Was he?’
‘Their engagement had been announced.’
‘Yelena Filippovna Polenova was a notoriously fickle woman. Only a few days before her engagement to Prince Naryskin she had broken off an engagement to the Guards officer Mizinchikov.’
‘You seem to know an extraordinary amount about the life of Yelena Filippovna.’
‘I take a natural interest in all these cases. That is why I could be especially useful to you.’ There was a ripping sound as Slava pulled at the end of the bandage to split it. He tied the two halves firmly around Porfiry’s hand. ‘There would be no need for any extra consideration.’
‘You are an intriguing individual, I will grant you that,’ said Porfiry, examining the tightly bound dressing.
‘You cannot seriously be intending to employ him!’
Porfiry turned his gaze on Virginsky with some surprise.
‘You cannot allow your servant to become involved in official investigations.’