The prince’s soul almost took leave of his body without any shaking, just as soon as he heard about the intendant’s death.
Lockston was still jangling the key to the cell, Asagawa was still waving his fist menacingly through the bars of the locked door, but the prince needed to be resuscitated. After the inspector’s first furious shouts (‘Surprised to see us? Did you think Suga would finish us off? It turned out the other way round!’) Onokoji had jumped up off the bunk, turned as white as chalk and collapsed in a dead faint.
‘Well, would you look at that?’ the sergeant said in amazement. ‘Bright and chirpy all night, he was, singing Parisian chansonettes. Boasting that he’d be free in the morning.’
‘Water,’ Asagawa said curtly.
They splashed water from the glass into the prisoner’s face, slapped him on the cheeks, and the scion of feudal lords came round. He started sobbing and his teeth started chattering.
‘Did you… Did you kill him? That’s it, then, I’m done for.’
The prince was trembling so violently that his head wobbled back and forth on his thin neck. And apparently it was not simply because the effect of the morphine had worn off – Onokoji was in a total panic. At first Fandorin thought he was afraid of Asagawa and vengeance for his treachery. But the titular counsellor soon realised that he was mistaken.
First, the prisoner made no attempt to wriggle out of it. Quite the opposite, in fact!
‘I didn’t think it was possible, I swear! They told me the trap was a very cunning device! It’s his own fault,’ the prince babbled, grabbing hold of Erast Petrovich’s hand and apparently apologising for the fact that the trap hadn’t worked. ‘You tell him that, tell him!’
‘Tell who?’ asked Fandorin, leaning forward bodily in his eagerness. ‘We’ll certainly tell him, but who?’
Onokoji slapped his palm against his lips. His eyes turned round in terror.
‘No one,’ he said quickly. Then he groaned pitifully, contradicting himself: ‘That’s it, he’ll kill me now…’
‘Because you were responsible for the intendant’s death?’
The aristocrat nodded.
Well, this is one who won’t bite his tongue off, the vice-consul thought. And he won’t shoot himself either. It looks as if the Englishman won’t be able to wriggle his way out of this after all!
‘Don’t worry, Prince. We’ll be able to protect you against him.’
Onokoji just shook his head.
‘Do you think we don’t know who you are s-so afraid of? We know. Suga told us before he died. It’s Bullcox.’
‘Bullcox?’ said Lockston, wide-eyed in amazement. ‘What has Bullcox got to do with all this?’
‘Algernon Bullcox was at the head of the conspiracy against Okubo,’ Fandorin explained, carefully enunciating every word – more for Onokoji than the sergeant. ‘Suga was acting on the Englishman’s instructions. Right?’
The question was addressed to the prisoner. He nodded without opening his eyes.
‘What kind of nation are these English?’ the sergeant exploded. ‘India’s not enough for them. The seas are not enough! They want to dominate the whole world. And they don’t even go about it honestly! Let me tell you this, gentlemen. Old Dame Britannia is getting above herself. It’s high time she was put in her place. They’ve got no business being here in Japan. There are more decent countries that trade honestly and don’t go interfering in politics.’
The titular counsellor was entirely in agreement with the American on this point, although he suspected that by ‘more decent countries’, he did not actually mean the Russian Empire.
‘I don’t want to be released,’ Onokoji said suddenly, looking at Fandorin. ‘I’ll be killed. Take care of me. I’ll be useful to you.’
‘You tell us everything you know about Bullcox’s secret dealings, and Sergeant Lockston will allow you to live in the municipal prison for as long as necessary.’
‘No! He’ll find me here in no time at all.’
Seeing that the man was beside himself with fear, Erast Petrovich said gently:
‘Very well. I’ll give you refuge in the Russian consulate. But only on condition that you are absolutely frank with me.’
‘I’ll tell you everything. About Bullcox. But not now. I don’t feel well. And it will be worse soon. I need another dose. I’ll go to sleep and then… and then we’ll talk. Only take me away from here! Quickly! He… he must know that I’ve been arrested. He knows about Suga too! And he’ll guess straight away. He’s very clever!’
Lockston snorted.
‘Well, listen to that. That damn lousy Englishman’s really got him running scared.’
Suddenly a voice behind him asked:
‘Who’s that you’re talking about, Sergeant? Could it perhaps be me?’
They all looked round. Twigs was standing in the entrance of the cell, wearing a tie and a tight collar, as usual, with his old, scuffed doctor’s bag under his arm.
‘No, Doc, I wasn’t talking about you, I meant…’ the head of the municipal police began awkwardly, but Asagawa coughed loudly and Lockston finished rather incoherently, ‘I was talking about a completely different Englishman… a different Englishman.’
Erast Petrovich caught Asagawa’s eye and the inspector gave a slight shrug – a gesture that meant: Of course, Twigs-sensei is a most worthy individual, but the state interests and prestige of his homeland are involved here, so we had better keep quiet about Bullcox.
‘Well, how did the nocturnal expedition go?’ the doctor asked eagerly. ‘I must admit, I didn’t sleep a wink all night. I was terribly worried about you. Well, come on, tell me, then!’
They told him. Almost everything – the only part they didn’t mention was the Right Honourable.
‘So, we have evidence against Suga, but we don’t have Suga any more?’ the doctor summed up, mopping his bald head with a handkerchief. ‘But that’s marvellous! Why are you all looking so frustrated?’
There was a further exchange of glances, and the inspector shrugged again, but this time with a different meaning: Do what you think best.
‘In the intendant’s papers we found a diagram with all the inscriptions in strange s-symbols,’ said Erast Petrovich, showing the doctor the sheet of paper. ‘We know that they are the members of the conspiracy, but we can’t read the names…’
‘Let me take a look…’
Twigs moved his spectacles down to the very tip of his nose and peered eagerly at the paper. Then he suddenly turned it upside down.
‘Wait, wait… I’ve seen something like this before…’
‘Remember, Doctor, remember,’ all three of them cried together.
‘The cryptograms that the ninja used, that’s what this is,’ Twigs announced triumphantly. ‘The shinobi had their own system of phonetic writing, for secret correspondence.’
‘Intendant Suga was not a shinobi,’ Asagawa said doubtfully. ‘It’s not possible. He came from a good samurai family.’
‘What does that matter? He could have learned their alphabet, as I tried to do at one time. You know that I’m very interested in the history of the ninja. I can’t just read these signs for you off the top of my head, but if I rummage through my old notes, I might find something and be able to decipher them. I can’t promise, but I’ll try.’
‘We know how to read one of the words,’ said Fandorin, pointing to the central circle. ‘It’s the name of the leader.’
‘Oh, that’s very important. There are letters here that also occur in the other words. So tell me, what does this say?’
The titular counsellor said the name quietly:
‘Bullcox.’