‘Wait,’ Fandorin said with a frown, holding open the leather-bound notebook intended for collecting information about Japan, but not yet writing anything in it. ‘What does that matter to Russia? If Japan does attack Korea, then what do we care?’
‘Tut-tut-tut, such puerile talk, and from a diplomat,’ the consul said reproachfully, and clicked his tongue. ‘Learn to think in terms of state policy, strategically. You and I have been an empire for a long time now, and everything that happens on the globe matters to empires, my dear. Especially in Korea. For the Japanese, the Korean Peninsula will be no more than a bridge to China and Manchuria, and we have had our own sights on those for a very long time. Have you never heard of the project to create Yellow Russia?’
‘I have, but I don’t like the idea. For goodness’ sake, Vsevolod Vitalievich, God grant us the grace to solve our own internal problems.’
‘He doesn’t like it!’ the consul chuckled. ‘Are you in the tsar’s service? Are you paid a salary? Then be so good as to do your job, and let those who have been entrusted with responsibility do the thinking and give the orders.’
‘But how is it possible not t-to think? You yourself do not greatly resemble a person who follows orders without thinking!’
Doronin’s face hardened.
‘You are right about that. Naturally, I think, I have my own judgement, and as far as I can I try to bring it to the attention my superiors. Although, of course, sometimes, I’d like… But then, that does not concern you,’ said the consul, suddenly growing angry and jerking his hand so that his cufflink fell to the floor.
The servant girl kneeled down, picked up the little circle of gold, took the consul’s arm and set his cuff to rights.
‘Domo, domo,’ Vsevolod Vitalievich thanked her, and the girl smiled, revealing crooked teeth that spoiled her pretty little face rather badly.
‘You should have a word with her, to get her to smile without parting her lips,’ Fandorin remarked in a low voice, unable to restrain his response.
‘The Japanese have different ideas about female beauty. We value large eyes, they value small ones. We value the shape of the teeth, they value only the colour. Irregularity of the teeth is a sign of sensuality, regarded as highly erotic. Like protruding ears. And the legs of Japanese beauties are best not mentioned at all. The habit of squatting on their haunches has made most women here bandy-legged and pigeon-toed. But there are gratifying exceptions,’ Doronin suddenly added in a completely different, affectionate tone of voice, looking over Erast Petrovich’s shoulder.
Fandorin glanced round.
A woman in an elegant white-and-grey kimono was standing in the doorway of the Japanese room. She was holding a tray with two cups on it. Fandorin thought her white-skinned, smiling face seemed exceptionally lovely.
The woman walked into the drawing room, stepping soundlessly on small feet in white socks, and offered the guest tea.
‘And this is my Obayasi, who loves me according to a signed contract.’
Erast Petrovich had the impression that the deliberate crudeness of these words was the result of embarrassment – Vsevolod Vitalievich was gazing at his concubine with an expression that was gentle, even sentimental.
The young man bowed respectfully, even clicking his heels, as if in compensation for Doronin’s harshness. The consul spoke several phrases in Japanese and added:
‘Don’t be concerned, she doesn’t know any Russian at all. I don’t teach her.’
‘But why not?’
‘What for?’ Doronin asked with a slight frown. ‘So that after me she can sign a marriage contract with some sailor? Our bold seafarers think very highly of a “little madam” if she can chat even a little in Russian.’
‘Isn’t that all the same to you?’ the titular counsellor remarked rather drily. ‘She will have to live somehow, even after your love by contract expires.’
Vsevolod Vitalievich flared up:
‘I shall make provisions for her. You shouldn’t imagine that I’m some kind of absolute monster! I understand your gibe, I deserved it, I shouldn’t have been so flippant. If you wish to know, I respect and love this lady. And she returns my feelings, independent of any contracts, yes indeed, sir!’
‘Then you should get married properly. What is there to stop you?’
The flames that had blazed up in Doronin’s eyes went out.
‘You are pleased to joke. Conclude a legal marriage with a Japanese concubine? They would throw me out of the service, for damaging the reputation of Russian diplomats. And then what? Would you have me take her to Russia? She would pine away there, with our weather and our customs. People there would stare at her as if she were some kind of monkey. Stay here? I should be expelled from civilised European society. No, the fiery steed and trembling doe cannot be yoked… But everything is excellent as it is. Obayasi does not demand or expect anything more from me.’
Vsevolod Vitalievich turned slightly red, because the conversation was encroaching farther and farther into territory that was strictly private. But in his resentment at the consul’s treatment of Obayasi, Fandorin was not satisfied with that.
‘But what if there’s a child?’ he exclaimed. ‘Will you “make provisions” for him too? In other words, pay them off?’
‘I can’t have a child,’ Doronin said with a grin. ‘I mention it without the slightest embarrassment, because it has nothing to do with sexual impotence. On the contrary.’ His bilious smile widened even further. ‘In my young days, I was very keen on the ladies, and I ended up with a nasty disease. I was pretty much cured, but the likelihood of having any progeny is almost zero – such is the verdict of medicine. That, basically, is why I have never concluded a legal marriage with any modest maiden of the homemade variety. I did not wish to disappoint the maternal instinct.’
Obayasi obviously sensed that the conversation was taking an unpleasant turn. She bowed once again and walked out as soundlessly as she had come in. She left the tray with the tea on the table.
‘Well, enough of that,’ the consul interrupted himself. ‘You and I are behaving far too much like Russians… Intimate talk like that requires either long friendship or a substantial amount of drink, and we are barely acquainted and completely sober. And therefore, we had better get back to business.’
Assuming an emphatically businesslike air, Vsevolod Vitalievich started bending his fingers down one by one.
‘First, we have to tell Lieutenant Captain Bukhartsev about everything – I have already mentioned him to you. Secondly, write a report to His Excellency. Thirdly, if Okubo arrives at the ball, warn him about the danger…’
‘I still d-don’t understand, though… Even if Blagolepov did not imagine the suspicious things that his passengers said in his opium dream, what need is there to get so worked up? They have only cold steel. If they had revolvers or carbines, they would hardly be likely to lug their medieval swords around with them. Can such individuals really represent a danger to the most powerful politician in Japan?’
‘Ah, Erast Petrovich, do you really think the Satsumans are unacquainted with firearms or were unable to obtain the money for a couple of revolvers? Why, one night journey on the launch must cost more than a used Smith and Wesson. This is a different issue. In Japan it is considered unseemly to kill an enemy with a bullet – for them, that is cowardice. A sworn enemy, and especially one as eminent as Okubo, has to be cut down with a sword or, at the very least, stabbed with a dagger. And furthermore, you cannot even imagine how effective the takana, the Japanese sword, is in the hands of a genuine master. Europeans have never even dreamed of the like.’