"What will you do?"
"P'rease?"
"If I want to see you, to contact you."
"I here. Taira-sama, not forget Yoshi price my head, neh? P'rease, not say about tunn'er. Bakufu and Yoshi want me bad.
If Taira-sama say, soon dead, can no where to run."
"I won't tell anyone. How can I get you a message?"
Hiraga thought about that. "Sun set time, come here, speak down. I here sun set time. Understand?"
"Yes." Tyrer stuck out his hand. "Don't be afraid, I won't tell and I'll try to help." Hiraga's grip was as firm.
"Phillip! Phillip, my boy, thank God you're safe!" Sir William's face was alight with relief and he hurried towards him to grip him on both shoulders. "The rumor said you'd been swallowed up in the Yoshiwara, come and sit down, you poor chap." He helped him to the best chair in his office by the fire. "Good God, you look terrible, what on earth happened, you need a drink! Brandy coming up!"
Tyrer relaxed into the tall chair feeling much better. After the initial horror of the damage and meeting a few people on the waterfront, seeing bandages and burns, no one spoke of deaths, seeing the Legations, Struan's and Brock's and important parts untouched--along with the army encampment and the fleet--all this took away most of his tension. No one seemed to know who was lost, or how many, so he had hurried here. He took a large swallow of the drink. "I was caught in the Yoshiwara all right. I was with, er, with my girl and, well, she died." His unhappiness rushed in again like a tidal wave.
"My God, sorry about that. Strange, your other friend, Nakama, Hiraga whatever his real name is, he's dead too."
"Sir?"
"Yes," Sir William said and sat in the chair opposite and ran on happily, "definite identification. A patrol spotted him in No Man's Land at the beginning of the fire in Drunk Town, at first they thought he was a looter and gave chase but recognized him, shot the bugger, wounding him, to stop him, but can you imagine, the madman got up and hurled himself into a blazing building--the old oil depot. A few moments later the Sergeant said there was a terrific explosion and the place seemed to blow up."
"That's not possible be--"
"I agree it's unlikely, throwing yourself into an inferno, ridiculous, no one would do that.
Sorry to say two of the lads were killed trying to catch him--caught by the explosions. Damned shame! Nakama certainly could have been the arsonist, if there was one, rather farfetched if you ask me. In any event, oil barrels were exploding all over." He saw Tyrer's agitation and pallor and felt badly for him.
"Sorry for you, Phillip, sorry that he's dead because I know you liked him, but not sorry otherwise--he was an assassin and it gets us out of a dreadful hole with Yoshi, doesn't it?"
He waited expectantly for him to agree but there was only a hollow face in front of him.
"Sorry, must be a shock on top of the, the other --it must have been awful?"
Tyrer was unbalanced, difficult to assimilate Hiraga's mistaken death. "The Yoshiwara, yes, yes it was," and just as he was about to correct Sir William he was overridden again.
"Have to tell you, Phillip, we've been incredibly lucky. Army's intact, Navy, only one of our community so far though we're still checking. Did you see any of our chaps last night in the Yoshiwara?"
"No sir, not one of ours, no." Tyrer could not get his mind working properly. "Not a soul. You see I w--"
"Damn! Difficult trying to track everyone down, can't get an accurate count. Drunk Town's hopeless, but even there they say only half a dozen vagrants, no one with any name but Charlie or Tom or George. Glad to say Mrs. Fortheringill's young ladies are all safe. Astounding we all escaped, if the wind hadn't dropped... but then it did and thank God for that... did you see Holy Titties escaped too? Of course damages will run into hundreds of thousands of pounds. Thank God for insurance, what? Well, drink up and take a nap. When you think about it, you'll see how fortunate we were with Nakama, he was developing into a major diplomatic disaster. I'm off, just going to discuss a plan with the community. Why don't you lie down until I'm back an--"
A knock. Bertram said, "The shoya's here, Sir William."
"Perfect timing, show him in. Phillip, before you go you can translate for me. Come in come in, Mr. Shoya."
The shoya bowed deferentially, on guard.
"My Master greet you, Shoya," Tyrer translated, still dazed, his mind elsewhere, desperate to lie down and think this all through, "please to say how many lose in fire?"
"Please thank him for his kindness in asking but please do not be concerned about our problems." The shoya found the question astonishing for it was no business of the gai-jin. What trap are they setting for me? he wondered.
"My Master says want know how many lost?"
"Oh so sorry, I am not sure of a final count, but five fishermen and two families have gone onwards," the shoya said politely, making up a figure as the gai-jin leader had asked pointedly, "how many lost," thus expecting figures. Actually they had lost none of their people or children or boats, having had plenty of warning.
"My Master say, so sorry. Can he help village?"
"Ah! Ah yes, yes please thank the Great Lord, the families could use some bags of rice and a little money, any help with food or..." The shoya left it hanging to allow them to make up their own minds. Is this another trap?
"My Master says that he send foods for village. Please say how fire start."
The shoya was thinking how totally mad of them to expect an answer to that. Dangerous to be involved in politics, even worse between shishi and Bakufu. While he greatly regretted the loss of all the profit when the gai-jin left their shores tomorrow or the next day, all was not lost because all his books and receipts and bullion were safe, and because of his agreement with the Jami gai-jin, which had become even more important now.
I'm sure my stoku kompanii won't suffer.
At the same time he was pleased with shishi daring to drive them out, blaming the vile Bakufu.
Sonno-joi. We're better off without gai-jin here. Better they are locked up in Nagasaki's little Deshima as in the past. I will open a branch in Nagasaki and be ready for their return. If ever.
"So sorry, but probably oil in a kitchen," he said with a humble bow. "Only the Yoshiwara cooks at night, we do not, please excuse me, that is all I know."
"My Master say, this man Nakama, or Hiraga, the shishi Lord Yoshi want, he seen by soldiers who try catch him. He run away and dead in fire. You know him?"
The shoya's foreboding tripled, though the death, to his delight, had also been reported.
"Please excuse me," he croaked, "I only know him as client, never shishi. Dead?
How wonderful the assassin's dead.
Wonderful!"
Sir William sighed, tired of the questions and answers. "Thank him and dismiss him, Phillip."
Thankfully the old man left. Sir William said, "Off you go, be ready to leave at noon."
"Sir?"
"For Kanagawa, the Yoshi meeting. You didn't forget?"
Tyrer was flabbergasted. "Surely he won't be expecting us now," he said weakly, the idea of a lengthy meeting translating the Treaty's nuances filling him with nausea. "Surely not!"
"That's why we're going." Sir William beamed. "Keep him off balance, eh? We're British, not a bunch of lily-white twits.
We've just had a minor contretemps, a slight hitch." He put on his coat. "See you at noon, in best bib and tucker."
"But he won't turn up, not after this."
"Yes. If he doesn't then he loses face, we don't."
"I can't, Sir William, not as interpreter. I'm... I'm just exhausted and just can't, not today, sorry."
"'fraid you'll have to. Stiff upper lip and all that."
Tyrer saw the thin smile, the coldness returning. And inflexibility. "Sorry, I can't, Sir. I've had it. Please let Andr`e do it, he's better than I am."