The secretary nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the vice-consul.
‘Excellent. Don’t be alarmed, you won’t have to do anything against the law. Masa and I will enter the house. Your job, starting in the evening, is to sit on the hill that overlooks the estate. It is an excellent observation point, and it can also be seen from here. As soon as the lights go out in the house, you will signal. Can you find a coloured lantern?’
‘Yes, there are some left over from the New Year. A green one, a red one and a blue one.’
‘Let it be the blue one. Flash three times, several times in succession. Masa will be watching for the signal on the porch.’
‘Is that all?’ Shirota asked disappointedly. ‘Just give the signal when the lights go out in the house?’
‘That’s all. They put the lights out there when the servants leave. I take responsibility for everything after that.’
Vsevolod Vitalievich was indignant.
‘How you love an air of mystery! Well, all right, you get into the house, and then what?’
Erast Petrovich smiled.
‘The Don has a secret safe. That is one. I know where it is, in the library, behind the bookshelves. That is two. I also know where to find the key to the safe – hanging round the Don’s neck. That is three. I do not intend to frighten Tsurumaki, I shall only borrow his key and take a look at what is in the safe, and in the meantime Masa will keep our hospitable host in his sights.’
‘Do you know what he has in the safe?’ asked Doronin.
‘No, but I can guess. Tsurumaki told me once that he keeps gold bars in it. I’m sure he was lying. No, there is something more valuable than gold in there. For instance, a certain diagram with serpentine symbols. Or there may possibly be even more interesting documents to be found…’
At this point the consul did something very strange: he grabbed his blue spectacles off his nose and started blinking at the bright light. His mouth started twitching and twisting, living a life of its own. He sank his teeth into his thin lip.
‘Even if you do find something important, you won’t be able to read it,’ Vsevolod Vitalievich said in a flat voice. ‘You don’t know Japanese. And your servant won’t be much use to you. I tell you what…’ He faltered, but only for a second, and then went on in a perfectly firm voice. ‘I tell you what, I’ll go with you. In the interests of the cause. I’m tired of being a spectator. It’s a shameful and depressing pastime.’
Erast Petrovich knew that even the slightest show of astonishment would seriously wound the consul’s feelings, so he took his time before answering, as if he was thinking over the advisability of the suggestion.
‘In the interests of the cause, it would be better if you stayed here. If my little excursion ends badly, than what more can they do to me – a young pup, a duellist and adventurer? The lieutenant captain has already written me off. Things stand differently with you – a pillar of Yokohama society and Consul of the Russian Empire.’
Vsevolod Vitalievich’s eyebrows arched up like angry leeches, but at this point Shirota intervened in the conversation.
‘I’ll go,’ he said quickly. ‘Or why should I bother at all? Am I just going to give the signal and then sit on the hill? That’s rather stupid.’
‘If my assistant and my secretary get involved in a scandalous incident, I’m done for anyway!’ Doronin fumed. ‘So I’d better go myself.’
But Shirota disrespectfully interrupted his superior.
‘I do not count. Firstly, I am a hired employee, a native.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘And secondly, I shall write a resignation note this very minute and put yesterday’s date on it. The letter will say that I no longer wish to serve Russia, because I have become disillusioned with its policy towards Japan, or something of the kind. In that way, if Mr Fandorin and I are involved in a scandalous incident, as you put it, it will be a criminal conspiracy between a young pup and adventurer (I beg your pardon, Erast Petrovich, but that is what you called yourself) and a crazy native who has already been dismissed from his job serving Russia. No more than that.’
This was all said in solemn tones, with restrained dignity, and that was how the discussion ended. They started discussing the details.
When he got back to his apartment, Erast Petrovich found O-Yumi lying in the bed barely alive. Her face was pale and bloodless, her feet were bound in rags.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ he cried in horror. ‘Are you ill?’
She smiled weakly.
‘No, I’m just very, very tired. But it’s all right, it will pass.’
‘But what’s wrong with your feet?’
‘I grazed them.’
He went down on his knees, took hold of her hand and said imploringly:
‘Tell me the truth. Where were you last night? Where did you go today? What is happening to you? The truth, for God’s sake, the truth!’
O-Yumi looked at him affectionately.
‘Very well. I will tell you the truth – as far as I can. And you promise me two things: that you won’t ask any more questions and that you will tell me the truth too.’
‘I promise. But you first. Where were you?’
‘In the mountains. The maso herb only grows in one place, on the southern slope of Mount Tanzawa, and that is fifteen ri from here. I had to make two trips, because the infusion has to be brewed twice, and it must be absolutely fresh. That is all I have to tell. Now you tell me. I can see that you are planning something and I feel alarmed. I have a bad premonition.’
Fifteen ri – that’s almost sixty versts in each direction, Fandorin calculated. No wonder she’s barely alive!
‘To ride thirty ri in one night!’ he exclaimed. ‘You must have driven the horses half to death!’
For some reason O-Yumi found his words amusing, and she broke into quiet laughter.
‘That’s all. No more questions, you promised. Now you tell me.’
And he told her: about the duel, about how Bullcox’s fury burst a blood vessel in his brain, about Don Tsurumaki, and about the forthcoming operation. O-Yumi’s face became more and more uneasy, sadder and sadder.
‘How terrible…’ she whispered when he finished.
‘You mean about your Algie?’ Fandorin asked, immediately jealous. ‘Then go to him and feed him your infusion!’
‘No, I don’t mean him. I feel sorry for Algie, but one or the other of you had to come to grief. What you have planned is terrible. Don’t go anywhere tonight! It will end badly! I can see that from the shadow on your temple!’ she said, reaching out her hand to his head, and when Erast Petrovich smiled, she exclaimed despairingly, ‘You don’t believe in ninso!’
They argued for a long time after that, but Fandorin was adamant, and in the end O-Yumi fell asleep, exhausted. He walked out carefully, afraid of disturbing her sleep with an accidental movement or the creak of a chair.
The remainder of the day passed in preparations. There wasn’t a sound from the bedroom – O-Yumi was sleeping soundly.
But late in the evening, when Masa was already sitting on the porch, gazing in the direction of the dark hills above the Bluff, there was a surprise in store for Erast Petrovich.
As he walked past the bedroom yet again, he put his ear to the door. This time he thought he heard a gentle rustling and he cautiously opened the door slightly.
No, O-Yumi was still sleeping – he could her quiet, regular breathing from the bed.
He tiptoed over to the window in order to close it – there was a cold draught coming in. He glanced at the grey silhouette of the house opposite and suddenly froze.
Something had moved over there, up by the chimney. A cat? Then it was a very big one.
His heart started pounding like a wild thing, but Fandorin gave no sign of being alarmed in any way. On the contrary, he stretched lazily, closed the window, locked it with all the latches and slowly walked away.