Item two: a long dagger of oriental appearance with an extremely sharp blade. Item three: a sack containing eleven Egyptian gourds. And finally, item four: a bag for carrying surgical instruments.
The compartment for holding a large scalpel is empty.’
The audience gasped. The Japanese opened his eyes and glanced briefly at the commissioner, but still did not speak.
He’s going to crack any moment, thought Gauche, but he was wrong. Without getting up off his chair, the Oriental swung round to face the inspector standing behind him and struck the hand holding the revolver a sharp blow from below. While the gun was still describing a picturesque arc through the air, the athletic Japanese had already reached the door, but when he jerked it open the two policemen standing outside jammed the barrels of their Colts into his chest. A split second later the inspector’s weapon completed its trajectory, crashed onto the centre of the table and detonated with a deafening roar. There was a jangling sound and the air was filled with smoke. Someone screamed.
Gauche quickly summed up the situation: the prisoner was backing towards the table; Mrs Truffo was in a dead faint; there seemed to be no other casualties; there was a hole in Big Ben just below the dial and its hands weren’t moving. The clock was jangling. The ladies were screaming. But in general the situation was under control.
The Japanese was returned to his seat and shackled with handcuffs; the doctor’s wife was revived and everyone went back to their places. The commissioner smiled and began talking again, demonstrating his superior presence of mind.
‘Gentlemen of the jury, you have just witnessed a scene that amounts to a confession of guilt, even though it was played out in a somewhat unusual manner.’
He’d made that slip about the jury again, but he didn’t bother to correct himself. After all, this was his dress rehearsal.
‘As the final piece of evidence, it could not possibly have been more conclusive,’ Gauche summed up smugly. ‘And you, Jackson, may consider yourself reprimanded. I told you that he was dangerous.’
The inspector was as scarlet as a boiled crayfish. That would teach him.
All in all, everything had turned out quite excellently.
The Japanese sat there with three guns pointing at him, pressing his shackled hands to his chest. He had closed his eyes again.
‘That is all, Inspector. You can take him away. He can be kept in your lock-up for the time being. When all the formalities have been completed, I shall take him to France. Goodbye, ladies and gentlemen, old papa Gauche is disembarking, I wish you all a pleasant journey.’
‘I am afraid, Commissioner, that you will have to travel with us a little further,’ the Russian said in that monotonous voice of his.
For a moment Gauche thought he had misheard.
‘Eh?’
‘Mr Aono is not guilty of anything, so the investigation will have to be continued.’
The expression on Gauche’s face must have looked extremely stupid - wildly staring eyes and bright scarlet cheeks …
Before the outburst of fury came, the Russian continued with quite astonishing self-assurance:
‘Captain, on b-board ship you are the supreme authority. The commissioner has just acted out a mock trial in which he took the part of prosecutor and played it with great conviction. However, in a civilized court, after the prosecution has made its case the defence is offered the floor. With your permission, I should like to take on that assignment.’
‘Why waste any more time?’ the captain asked in surprise. ‘It all seems cut and dried to me. The commissioner of police explained everything very clearly.’
‘Putting a passenger ashore is a serious m-matter, and the responsibility is ultimately the captain’s. Think what damage will be done to the reputation of your shipping line if it turns out that you have made a mistake. And I assure you,’ said Fandorin, raising his voice slightly, ‘that the commissioner is mistaken.’
‘Nonsense!’ exclaimed Gauche. ‘But I have no objections. It might even be interesting. Carry on, monsieur, I’m sure I shall enjoy it.’
After all, a dress rehearsal had to be taken seriously. This boy was no fool, he might possibly expose some gaps in the prosecution’s logic that needed patching up. Then if the prosecutor made a mess of things during the trial, Commissioner Gauche would be able to give him a hand.
Fandorin crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands around his knee.
‘You gave a brilliant and convincing speech. At first sight your arguments appear conclusive. Your logic seems almost beyond reproach, although, of course, the so-called “circumstantial evidence” is worthless. Yes, Mr Aono was in Paris on the fifteenth of March. Yes, Mr Aono was not in the saloon when the p-professor was killed. In themselves these two facts mean nothing, so let us not even take them into consideration.’
‘Very well,’ Gauche agreed sarcastically. ‘Let us move straight on to the hard facts.’
‘Gladly. I counted five more or less significant elements. Mr Aono is a doctor, but for some reason he concealed that from us.
That is one. Mr Aono is capable of shattering a hard object such as a gourd - and perhaps also a head - with a single blow. That is two. Mr Aono does not have a Leviathan emblem. That is three.
A scalpel, which might be the one that killed Professor Sweetchild, is missing from the defendant’s medical bag. That is four.
And finally, five: we have just witnessed an attempted escape by the accused, which sets his guilt beyond all reasonable doubt. I don’t think I have forgotten anything, have I?’
‘There is a number six,’ put in the commissioner. ‘He is unable to offer an explanation for any of these points.’
‘Very well, let us make it six,’ the Russian agreed readily.
Gauche chuckled.
‘I’d say that’s more than enough for any jury to send our little pigeon to the guillotine.’
Inspector Jackson jerked his head up and growled in English: ‘To the gallows.’
‘No, to the gallows,’ Renier translated.
Ah, the black-hearted English! He had warmed a viper in his bosom!
‘I beg your pardon,’ fumed Gauche. ‘The investigation has been conducted by the French side. So our villain will go to the guillotine!’
‘And the decisive piece of evidence, the missing scalpel, was discovered by the British side. He’ll be sent to the gallows,’ the lieutenant translated.
‘The main crime was committed in Paris. To the guillotine!’
‘But Lord Littleby was a British subject. And so was Professor Sweetchild. It’s the gallows for him.’
The Japanese appeared not to hear this discussion that threatened to escalate into an international conflict. His eyes were still closed and his face was completely devoid of all expression.
These yellow devils really are different from us, thought Gauche. And just think of all the trouble they would have to take with him: a prosecutor, a barrister, a jury, judges in robes.
Of course, that was the way it ought to be, democracy is democracy after all, but this had to be a case of casting pearls before swine.
When there was a pause Fandorin asked:
‘Have you concluded your debate? May I p-proceed?’
‘Carry on,’ Gauche said gloomily, thinking about the battles with the British that lay ahead.
‘And let us not d-discuss the shattered gourds either. They also prove nothing.’
This whole comedy was beginning to get on the commissioner’s nerves.
‘All right. We needn’t waste any time on trifles.’
‘Excellent. Then that leaves five points: he concealed the fact that he is a doctor; he has no emblem; the scalpel is missing; he tried to escape; he offers no explanations.’
‘And every point enough to have the villain sent … for execution.’