The Diamond Chariot (35 page)

‘Ah, there’s the man we need,’ said the consul, beckoning Fandorin.

Two men were talking in the corner, beside a column: the Right Honourable Bullcox, whom Fandorin already knew, and another gentleman, whose monocle and gaunt physique suggested that he might also be English. The conversation did not appear to be a friendly one; Bullcox was laughing hostilely and the other man was curling his thin lips angrily. The ‘Dame aux Camelias’ was not with them.

‘That is Captain Bukhartsev,’ said Lieutenant Vsevolod Vitalievich, leading his assistant across the hall. ‘He’s sparring with our British foe.’

Erast Petrovich looked more closely at the maritime agent, but still could not discover any indications of Russianness in this gentleman. The representatives of two rival empires were as alike as brothers. If one had to choose, then Bullcox could more easily be taken for a Slav, with his exuberant locks and open, energetic features.

No four-way conversation ensued, however. With a curt nod to Fandorin, who had been introduced to him by the consul, the Englishman announced that a lady was waiting for him and walked away, leaving the Russians to each other. Fandorin did not like the lieutenant captain’s handshake – what strange sort of manner was that, to offer just the tips of the fingers? Mstislav Nikolaevich (the maritime agent’s first name and patronymic) clearly wished to distance himself immediately and demonstrate that he was the most important one there.

‘Abominable little Englishman,’ Bukhartsev hissed through his teeth, watching Bullcox walk away through narrowed eyes. ‘How dare he! “You should not forget that Russia ceased to be a great power twenty years ago!” How do you like that? I told him: “We have just defeated the Ottoman Empire, and you can’t even deal with the pitiful Afghans!”’

‘A fine riposte,’ Vsevolod Vitalievich said approvingly. ‘What did he say to that?’

‘He tried to preach at me. “You are a civilised man. Surely it is clear that the world will only gain if it learns to live the British way?”.’

This assertion set Fandorin thinking. What if the Englishman was right? If one had to choose how the world should live – the British way or the Russian way … But at that point Erast Petrovich pulled himself up short. Firstly, for being unpatriotic, and, secondly, for posing the question incorrectly. First one had to decide whether it would be a good thing for the whole world to live according to a single model, no matter how absolutely wonderful it might be.

He pondered this complex question, at the same time listening to Doronin telling the agent in a low voice abut Captain Blagolepov’s sinister passengers.

‘Nonsense,’ said Bukhartsev with a frown, but after a moment’s thought, he said brightly, ‘Although, go ahead. At least we’ll demonstrate to the minister how greatly Russia is concerned for his safety. Let him remember we are his real friends, not the English.’

Just then their host, visible from a distance owing to his remarkable fez, went dashing towards the doors, where some kind of commotion was developing: some guests moved forward and others respectfully backed away, and a Japanese in a modest grey frock coat walked slowly into the hall. He halted in the doorway and greeted the assembled company with an elegant bow. His intelligent, narrow face, adorned with a drooping moustache, lit up in a pleasant smile.

‘Ah, and here is our Bonaparte, speak of the devil,’ the consul said to Fandorin. ‘Let’s move a bit closer.’

The minister’s retinue jostled behind him. In contrast with the great man himself, they were decked out in sumptuous uniforms. It occurred to Erast Petrovich that perhaps Okubo really was imitating the Corsican: he had also liked to surround himself with gold-feathered peacocks, while he went about in a grey frock coat and frayed three-cornered hat. This was the grand chic of genuine, self-assured power.

‘Well hello, you old bandit. Hello, you slanty-eyed Danton,’ said the minister, shaking his host’s hand with a jolly laugh.

‘And hello to you, Your Equally Slanty-Eyed Excellency,’ Tsurumaki responded in the same tone.

Erast Petrovich was rather shaken, both by the epithet and the familiarity. He glanced involuntarily at the consul, who whispered out of the corner of his mouth:

‘They’re old comrades-in-arms, from before the revolution. And that “slanty-eyed” business is just play-acting for the Europeans – it’s no accident that they’re speaking English.’

‘Why “Danton”, though?’ Fandorin asked.

But Doronin did not need to answer – Tsurumaki did that for him.

‘Take care, Your Excellency, if you cling to power so tightly, Dantons and Robespierres will be lining up against you. All the civilised countries have a constitution and a parliament, but what do we have in Japan? An absolute monarchy is a brake on progress, and you can’t understand that!’

Although Don smiled, it was clear that the only jocular thing about his words was the tone in which they were spoken.

‘It’s too soon for you Asiatics to have a parliament,’ the minister disagreed in a serious voice. ‘First educate yourselves, and then we’ll see.’

‘Now do you understand why Russia likes Okubo so much?’ asked Vsevolod Vitalievich, unable to resist the urge to seditious irony, although he spoke cautiously, directly into Fandorin’s ear.

Bukhartsev, who had not heard this freethinking remark, said briskly:

‘We won’t be able to get to the minister now. But never mind, I can see the person we need.’ He pointed to a military officer who was standing apart from the other members of the retinue. ‘That is the vice-intendant of police, Kinsuke Suga. Although he is only the vice-intendant, everyone knows Suga is the true head of the imperial police. His superior is a purely decorative figure, a member of the Kyoto aristocracy.’

Bukhartsev squeezed through the crush, gestured to the policeman, and a moment later all four of them were in a quiet corner together, away from the crowd.

Having quickly disposed of the social formalities, the lieutenant captain got down to business. He was a sensible man after all – he stated the essence of the matter clearly, succinctly and yet comprehensively.

Suga listened, knitting his thick eyebrows together. He touched his curled moustache a couple of times and ran his hand nervously over his short-cropped brush of hair. Erast Petrovich had not yet learned to tell the age of locals, but to look at, the vice-intendant seemed about forty-five. The titular counsellor did not push himself forward, he stood behind the maritime agent and the consul, but the policeman addressed his response to him.

‘Mr Vice-Consul, have you not confused anything here? The launch definitely went to Susaki that night, not to any other mooring?’

‘I could not have confused that even if I wished to. I don’t know Tokyo at all, I’m haven’t even been there yet.’

‘Thank you, you have gathered very important information,’ said Suga, still addressing Fandorin directly, which caused a grimace of dissatisfaction to flit across the lieutenant captain’s face. ‘You know, gentlemen, that the steamship ‘
Kasuga-maru
’, the first modern ship that we have built without foreign help, is moored at Susaki. Last night His Excellency was there – at a banquet to mark the launching of the steamship. The Satsumans found out about that somehow and probably intended to lie in wait for the minister on his way back. Everyone knows that His Excellency moves about without any guards at any time of the day or night. If the officers of the ship, having taken a drink or two, had not got the idea of unharnessing the horses and pulling the carriage by hand, the assassins would certainly have carried out their criminal plan. You say that they ordered the launch again for the end of this night?’

‘Yes, that is c-correct.’

‘That means they know that today His Excellency will go back from here in the small hours. They could easily land at some mooring in Simbasi or Tsukiji, steal through the dark streets and set up an ambush at the minister’s residence in Kasumigaseki. Gentlemen, you are doing our country a truly invaluable service! Come with me, I will take you to His Excellency.’

Suga whispered in the minister’s ear and led him out of the respectful circle of guests towards the Russian diplomats

‘Tomorrow all the local newspapers will write about this,’ Bukhartsev said with a self-satisfied smile. ‘It could even get into the
Times
, but not on the front page, of course: “The Strong Man of Japan Conspires with the Russian”.’

The report on the situation was run through for a third time, this time in Japanese. Erast Petrovich caught a few familiar words: ‘Fandorin’, ‘Rosia’, ‘
katana
’, ‘Susaki’, ‘Kasuga-maru’ – and the endlessly repeated ‘
satsumajin
’ probably meant ‘Satsumans’. The vice-intendant of police spoke forcefully and bowed frequently, but not subserviently, more as if he were nudging his phrases forward with his shoulders.

An expression of annoyance appeared on the minister’s tired face and he replied sharply. Suga bowed again, even more insistently.

‘What’s happening?’ Bukhartsev asked in a low voice – he obviously did not know Japanese.

‘He refuses to accept a guard, but Suga is insisting,’ Doronin translated quietly, then cleared his throat and said in English: ‘Your Excellency, permit me to remark that you are behaving childishly. After all, in the final analysis, it is not a matter of your life, but of the future of the country that His Majesty the Emperor has entrusted to your management. And in any case, the guard is a temporary measure. I am sure that your police will make every effort to find the conspirators quickly. And for my part, as a consul, I will set up an investigative group in Yokohama – no, no, naturally not in connection with the anticipated attempt on Your Excellency’s life (that would be interference in internal affairs), but in connection with the suspicious circumstances surrounding the demise of a Russian subject.’

‘And I shall assign my most capable men to assist the investigative group, which will give you the support of the Japanese authorities,’ put in Suga, also speaking English. ‘I swear, Your Excellency, that the police guard will not bother you for long. The miscreants will be seized within a few days.’

‘All right,’ Okubo agreed reluctantly. ‘I will tolerate it for three days.’

‘Three days might not be enough,’ Fandorin suddenly declared from behind the backs of the state officials. ‘A week.’

Bukhartsev glanced round in horror at the violator of etiquette. Suga and Doronin also froze, evidently afraid that the minister would explode and tell them to go to hell and take their guard with them.

But Okubo looked intently at Erast Petrovich and said:

‘Are you the man who has been assigned to lead the investigation? Very well, I give you one week. But not a single day longer. I cannot allow some cranks to limit my freedom of movement. And now, gentlemen, please excuse me, I have to talk to the British consul.’

He nodded and moved away.

‘He did that deliberately,’ Bukhartsev said in Russian with a sour face. ‘To restore the balance. There won’t be any article in the
Times
.’

But his voice was drowned out by Suga.

‘Well done, Mr Fandorin! I would never have dared talk to His Excellency in that tone of voice. A whole week – that is wonderful! It means the minister has fully understood the seriousness of the threat. He would never have accepted bodyguards before. He believes in fate. He often repeats: “If I am still needed by my country, nothing will happen to me. And if I am no longer needed, then it is my destiny”.’

‘How shall we organise the investigation, General?’ Bukhartsev enquired briskly. ‘Which of your deputies will you attach to the consular group?’

The vice-intendant, however, addressed Fandorin, not the maritime agent.

‘Your superior told me that you have worked in the police. That is very good. I will not give you a bureaucrat from the administration, but one of my inspectors – naturally, one who speaks English and knows Yokohama well. But I must warn you: the Japanese police are not much like the other police forces of the world. Our people are efficient, but they lack initiative – after all, not so long ago, they were all samurai, and a samurai was taught from the cradle not to think, but to obey. Many cling too tightly to the old traditions and simply cannot get used to firearms. They shoot incredibly badly. But never mind, my material may be in a rough state, but it is gold, pure 24 carat gold.’ Suga spoke quickly and energetically, emphasising his words by waving his fist. ‘Yes, my samurai have a long way to go to match the British constables and the French agents as far as police training is concerned, but they do not take bribes, they are diligent and willing to learn. Give us time, and we will create the finest police force in the world!’

Fandorin liked these passionate words, and the vice-intendant himself, very much. If only, he thought, our police force was run by enthusiasts like this, instead of stuffy gentlemen from the Department of Police. He was particularly struck by the fact that the police did not take bribes. Was that possible, or did the Japanese general have his head in the clouds?

Discussion of the details of future collaboration was interrupted by an unexpected event.

‘Ee-ee-ee-ee!’ a bevy of female voices squealed with such reckless enthusiasm that the men abandoned their conversation and looked round in amazement.

Don Tsurumaki was dashing across the hall.

‘Surprise!’ he shouted, pointing with a laugh to the curtain that covered one of the walls. That was where the squeal had come from.

The conductor waved his baton dashingly, the firemen rendered a thunderous, rollicking little motif, and the curtain parted to reveal a line of girls in gauzy skirts. They were Japanese, but they were under the command of a redheaded, long-limbed Frenchwoman.

‘
Mes poules, allez-op!
’ she shouted, and the girls in the line all hoisted their skirts and kicked one leg up into the air.

‘A cancan!’ the guests murmured. ‘A genuine cancan!’

The dancers did not kick their legs up so very high, and the limbs themselves were perhaps rather short, but nonetheless the audience was absolutely delighted. The famous Parisian attraction must have been quite a curiosity in Japan – the surprise was an obvious success.