‘G-good Lord Almighty! I have never even held a sword!’
‘Only one stroke! I will teach you. If you practise for an hour with a bamboo pole, you will manage it perfectly. I implore you. Do me this invaluable service!’
Seeing the expression on the other man’s face, the inspector broke off and took himself in hand with an effort.
‘All right,’ he said in a dull voice. ‘I am sorry for asking you. It was weakness. I am very ashamed.’
But Erast Petrovich was feeling even more ashamed. There were so many things in the world that were more important than wounded vanity, jealousy or an unhappy love! For instance, the aspiration to truth and justice. Moral integrity. Self-sacrifice in the name of justice.
‘Listen,’ the titular counsellor began agitatedly, squeezing the inspector’s slack arm. ‘You are an intelligent, modern, educated individual. What sort of barbarity is this – slicing your own stomach open! It’s a throwback to the Middle Ages! But the end of the nineteenth century is already in sight! I swear to you that we will think of something!’
But Asagawa would not listen to him.
‘I cannot live like this. As a European, you cannot understand this. Let there be no second! I shall not feel the pain. On the contrary, I shall free the pain that is burning me up inside. This villain has betrayed a great man who trusted him! He has kicked me aside with his boot, like a lump of mud! And now he is revelling in his victory. I cannot stand by and see villainy triumph. The criminal Suga is the head of the police! He is admiring himself in the mirror in his new uniform, he is moving into his new estate at Takarazaka! He is certain that the entire world is at his feet! This is intolerable!’
Erast Petrovich wrinkled up his forehead. Takarazaka? He had heard that name before somewhere.
‘What estate is th-that?’
‘A truly fine estate close to the capital. Suga won it at cards a few days ago. Oh, he is so lucky, his karma is strong!’
And then Fandorin remembered the conversation he had overheard in Bullcox’s study. ‘Well now, Onokoji, that is very Japanese,’ the Englishman had said. ‘To reprimand someone, and then reward him with promotion a week later.’ And the prince had replied: ‘This, my dear Algernon, is not a reward, he is merely occupying a position that has fallen vacant. But he will receive a reward, for doing the job so neatly. He will be given the suburban estate of Takarazaka. Ah, what plum trees there are there! What ponds!’
‘What’s wrong with you?’ the inspector asked, gazing at Fandorin in surprise.
The vice-consul replied slowly:
‘I think I know what to do. You and I have no evidence, but perhaps we will have a witness. Or at least an informer. There is someone who knows the true background to the murder.’
And Fandorin told Asagawa about the wily dandy who traded in others’ secrets. Asagawa listened avidly, like a condemned man listening to the announcement of his own reprieve.
‘Onokoji said that Suga had “done the job neatly”? Then the prince really does know a lot!’
‘More than you and I know, in any case. But the most interesting question is who rewarded the new intendant with such a generous gift. Is it possible to find out who the estate belonged to before?’
‘One of the deposed Shogun’s relatives. But Takarazaka was put up for bidding a long time ago. Anyone at all could have bought it and lost it straight away at cards. We shall find out, it is not difficult.’
‘But what can we do with the prince? It’s stupid to hope that he will testify voluntarily.’
‘Yes, he will,’ the inspector declared confidently. ‘Voluntarily and frankly.’ A bloom had appeared on Asagawa’s cheeks, his voice had become brisk and energetic. It was hard to believe that only ten minutes earlier this man had looked like a living corpse. ‘Onokoji is pampered and weak. And even more importantly, he is addicted to every possible kind of vice, including the forbidden kind. I have not touched him before, assuming that he was a good-for-nothing idler, basically harmless. And in addition, he has numerous protectors in high places. But now I shall arrest him.’
‘For what?’
Asagawa thought for no more than two seconds.
‘He goes down to the “Number Nine” almost every day. It’s the most famous brothel in Yokohama. Do you know it?’
Fandorin shook his head.
‘Ah yes, you haven’t been here for long… They have merchandise to suit all tastes there. For instance, the owner has a so-called “boarding school”, for lovers of little girls. You can find thirteen-year-olds, twelve-year-olds, sometimes even eleven-year-olds. It’s illegal, but since only foreign girls work at the “Number Nine”, we do not interfere, it is outside our jurisdiction. Onokoji is a great lover of “little ones”. I shall order the owner (he is in my debt) to tell me as soon as the prince secludes himself with a young girl. That is when he has to be arrested. I cannot do it myself, unfortunately – the arrest must be carried out by the municipal police.’
‘So we’ll be working with Sergeant Lockston again,’ Erast Petrovich said with a nod. ‘And tell me, are there any Russian subjects among the young prostitutes? That would justify my involvement in the matter.’
‘I think there is one Polish girl,’ Asagawa recalled. ‘I do not know what passport she has, though. Probably none at all, since she is a minor.’
‘The Kingdom of Poland is part of the Russian Empire, so the unfortunate victim of depravity could be a compatriot of mine. In any case, it is the vice-consul’s duty to check. Well now, Inspector, have you changed you mind about slicing open your stomach?’
The titular counsellor smiled, but Asagawa was serious.
‘You are right,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Seppuku is a throwback to the Middle Ages.’
Something round and hard struck Fandorin in the back. He looked round – it was a cricket ball. One of the sportsmen had thrown very wide of the target.
Erast Petrovich picked up the small, taut leather sphere and flung it to the far end of the pitch. When he turned back again, the inspector was gone – there were only white sprays of acacia swaying on the bushes.
Intoxicating,
Astounding the mind, a white
Spray of acacia
A LITTLE PIECE OF HAPPINESS
‘Well now, it’s worth a try,’ said Vsevolod Vitalievich, narrowing his reddish eyes. ‘If you can expose the intendant, that will be a powerful blow struck against the party of war. And your involvement in the investigation will not only free you of all suspicion of Okubo’s murder, it will significantly improve the value of Russia’s stock in Japan.’
Fandorin had found the consul in his dressing room, taking his morning tea. Doronin’s sparse hair was covered with a fine net, and his thin neck with the protruding Adam’s apple was visible in the open collar of his shirt.
Obayasi-san bowed and offered the visitor tea, but Erast Petrovich declined, with the lie that he had already had tea. For some reason he had no desire either to eat or drink. But his apathy had disappeared and the beat of his heart was strong and regular. The hunting instinct is every bit as ancient and powerful as the instinct to make love, thought the titular counsellor, glad that he was recovering the habit of rationalising his own feelings.
‘We shall not inform the ambassador of your new initiative,’ said Doronin, holding out his little finger as he raised his cup to his mouth, but he didn’t drink. ‘If we do, he will instruct Lieutenant Captain Bukhartsev to deal with it, and he will turn the whole business into a grand fiasco.’
Erast Petrovich shrugged.
‘Why bother His Excellency with unimportant trifles? This is very small beer: the vice-consul defending the interests of an underage victim of corruption. That’s all we’re talking about so far.’
And then Vsevolod Vitalievich uttered a most injudicious sentiment.