Sherlock Holmes

by Keisuke Matsuoka

  “Some have suggested that the crown prince may have been persuaded by his father after returning to Russia…”

  “To go from pro-Japanese to referring to the people as ‘yellow monkeys’? The change is too drastic, even allowing for that possibility. If the Emperor’s intent had been to overthrow Japan all along, I suspect he would have disregarded his son’s feelings from the outset and gone to war immediately. We have not yet explained why he would first lay the option of force aside and sign that letter, which appeared in the papers.”

  “Russia’s fickleness has put Ambassador Shevich in a difficult position, but even more so us. Perhaps this time there will be a demand for money or land.”

  “And the man who attacked Nicholas, Sanzo Tsuda? Where is he being held?”

  “Hokkaido. He is serving his sentence in Kushiro Prison.”

  “What were his motives?”

  “The trial was carried out in a hurry, if you recall. The interviews were less than thorough. After a verdict was handed down, no further investigation was pursued.”

  “Excellent.” Sherlock rose to his feet. “When the police fail to act it increases the value of consultants such as myself.”

  “What do you plan to do?” asked Ito.

  “If I am correct, a great number of Russian warships are currently harbored in Tokyo’s port.”

  “Yes…In fact, nine ships have gathered at Shinagawa Daiba, which is located in the Shiba Ward. All nine are medium-class vessels.”

  “Then I shall go there now.”

  “Now? But how did you know that the warships were there? Did you visit the port yesterday?”

  “No. I was too busy looking for your home, and I never approached the docks.” He set the newspaper down on his chair. “But you and I are to rescue Japan from war, are we not? Hurry now, we must be off!”

  Sherlock’s expression was animated. His voice carried across the hall. Even his posture had grown sprightly. Ito stared half in amazement. Sherlock faced concerns enough of his own, but at the moment he seemed entirely insensible to them. For a man supposed to be dead, he was in remarkably good spirits.

  On the way out, Sherlock paused. “I almost forgot, I wish to ask you something.”

  “What is it?”

  “It is something Ambassador Shevich said earlier, about Britain aiming to control Japan. He cautioned you to be on your guard, lest the nation become addicted to opium.”

  “Yes. What of it?”

  “Is that the general view of things here in the East? That Britain was responsible for the Opium Wars?”

  “Britain was responsible. There is no denying that.”

  Sherlock looked vexed. “Hmm…”

  “That is not to say that I blame the British people. Britain’s government and military had their own motives. The responsibility lies with those who were in power at the time, I suppose. Every country has blemishes when you explore their history.”

  This response did nothing to wipe the expression of dejection from Sherlock’s face. He began walking once more, this time in silence. He stepped outside quickly.

  Ito followed dubiously. Sherlock was a strange man. He possessed an intellect of extraordinary proportions, but his moods could be tumultuous, to say the least.

  14

  Sherlock bade Ito leave his advisors behind. They also travelled incognito in a plain carriage, without the imperial crest. Ito told the vice-chairman and chief secretary of the Privy Council that they were only slipping away for some amusement. From the look of discomfort on the vice-chairman’s face, Sherlock judged such behavior was not uncommon. Apparently there were no matters before the council today important enough to require the chairman’s presence.

  Though he thought it only natural a major politician might feel uneasy travelling alone without guards, Ito exhibited no such qualms. He displayed the same boldness he had shown facing down those ruffians in Cheapside. He may have ascended to the highest rungs of government, Sherlock thought, but he had once been a feudal retainer. He exhibited a degree of courage you would expect from one who had led such an eventful life. Though of course, Ito was far from the only hard-nosed man in all of Japan.

  “The Supreme Court of Judicature is equivalent to England’s High Court, if I am correct.” Sherlock sat next to Ito as the carriage jostled them from side to side. “The head of the court, Korekata Kojima, refused the request for a death penalty. He must be deeply devoted to the concepts of government based on the rule of law.”

  Ito nodded. “Few men are as formidable as Judge Kojima. But that is also what makes him reliable. He has a point. The independence of the judiciary is vital to a strong government.”

  “According to Mycroft, your power stretches even to the courts. I suppose even he was unaware that Japan had achieved a separation of powers.”

  “I became head of the Privy Council in June, but regardless of my position, so long as Kojima is in office the Supreme Court is immune to influence. Should the fact that you faked your death and entered the country illegally become a problem in the judiciary, I would be powerless to protect you from Kojima. That is why I thought you should remain at my home, in hiding.” Ito added, “I hope my saying so does not make you feel apprehensive.”

  “Of course not. This matter is of my own making. Fortunately we are here in the Far East, as that grants a reprieve.”

  Ito sighed. “In truth, I feel divided on the matter. Before, I admitted that Kojima was right. But Russia is upset again, and we are back in the same predicament. I suppose I could call for Sanzo Tsuda’s execution once again…”

  “But your conscience prevents you?”

  “Yes. If I truly value the independence of the judiciary any such course would be abominable. Doubly so, as of late.”

  “As of late? Explain.”

  “More strongly than ever, I am aware of the importance of Japan becoming a constitutional state. Certainly more so, today.”

  “But why more so today?”

  Ito smiled. “Why indeed? You are always making inscrutable statements, I thought I might try my hand at it as well.”

  Sherlock snorted. He detested questions he could not answer. But it was better to remain calm.

  He could not help but feel troubled, however. “Ito…” he whispered, but then hesitated. “No, it’s nothing.”

  “What is it? Ask me anything.”

  “To place value on the independence of the judiciary is to place priority on the law…”

  “Naturally.”

  “Then, do you believe that even when the blackest of scoundrels is involved, taking the law into one’s own hands is inexcusable?”

  “Are you asking if I think that instead of killing Moriarty, you ought to have had him arrested and brought to trial? The courts are the foundation upon which a country of law and order resides.”

  “I see,” Sherlock said lowly.

  “And yet,” Ito looked hard at him, “there were no judges involved in much of what I did during the fall of the Bakufu. Still, those involved recognized the necessity of such actions.”

  “You refer to your clansmen in the Choshu Domain. I, however, have few such allies.”

  “What of Mycroft and Dr. Watson?”

  “Mycroft cares only for self-preservation. Watson alone is my friend.”

  “Mr. Holmes,” said Ito good-naturedly, “my teacher when I was younger, Shoin Yoshida, once told me to take pride not in avoiding mistakes, but rather in correcting them.”

  “But even if you believe you are correcting your mistakes, who is to say if you are in the right?”

  “I suppose you have only your own judgment to rely on. But you are clever. I am sure that that alone is adequate.”

  Though he had faltered earlier, Sherlock felt his equilibrium return. “Well, thank you,” he said softly.

  “An
d thank you.” Ito smiled, suddenly. “Of course, I suppose such words are premature. I still expect you to save us from the brink of war.”

  Sherlock could not stop himself from losing a bitter laugh. “Naturally. Leave it to me.”

  The view outside the carriage window suddenly broadened to show a harbor spread across the horizon. It was not like the port he’d seen in Yokohama, but possessed a charm all its own.

  The ocean sparkled beneath the muted autumn light. The waves gently lapped back and forth. Several Western-style buildings lined the beach, and the shoreline bustled with small fishing boats. Sherlock’s eyes were drawn to small islands that dotted the waters further out, each encircled by stone walls, and equipped with piers and docks for berthing.

  “This area is known as Daiba,” said Ito. “Daiba means fort. The name comes from the batteries that once stood here. They were built in haste by the Bakufu to drive back Commodore Perry, but Perry passed by and landed at Yokohama instead.”

  “I do not see any batteries now.”

  “The waters near the coast in this area are shallow. Large ships would run aground. The man-made islands you see there were built for the batteries offshore. They are all suitable for berthing, and so have been repurposed to that effect.”

  The carriage had to stop on a slightly elevated hill. Several other carriages had also lined up along the road, lending the area an impression of bustling prosperity. Sherlock alighted. The breeze carried to him the scent of the tide.

  His attention was drawn out to the water. Nine relatively small armored ships equipped for steam and sail—so identical in appearance as to be indistinguishable—floated in the harbor. From their shape they appeared to be Russian. Three ships had drawn up to the artificial islands on their port side. Another three rose beyond, lined up in a similar column, and beyond those ships yet three more. The arrangement was similar to how new ships were unveiled during naval parades. Their majestic presences declared for themselves their monopoly of the ocean.

  “The ships arrived about two days ago,” Ito explained. “Of the three berthed at the artificial island, the one at the front is the flagship, the Kondrat. The ship beyond that is apparently named the Kesar.”

  “How does one distinguish between them?”

  “Who can say? They are all much smaller than the Pamiat Azova, Tsarevich Nicholas’ imperial flagship. They are destroyers, possibly, but their finer capabilities are unclear.”

  “What are the names of the other ships?”

  “That is also unclear. The Russians are not allowing anyone near.”

  “That is perplexing. It is like Perry’s black ships all over again.”

  Ito’s voice was sullen. “Do you see now the danger we are in?”Sherlock strode forward without replying. He descended the hill, before veering toward the collection of Western buildings located along the beach. Ito came after, unsure as to his intentions.

  This area was rounded in by a fence, and uniformed Russian naval officers stood near the gate. When Sherlock approached, two young soldiers barred his way.

  He made a brief salutation. “Please fetch someone who can speak English,” he said.

  One of the soldiers responded, speaking with a Russian accent. “State your business?”

  The man’s rank was visible on his badge: Матрóc 1-й cтaтьѝ. Though Sherlock did not understand Russian, he was aware that the badge indicated a first-class seaman. He also glanced at the man’s name, imprinted on his buckle. “First-Class Seaman Mitkov, I wish to speak with the commander of the Kondrat.”

  Unfortunately, Mitkov was apparently not so easily taken in with this gambit as Lt. Colonel Kanevsky was. Perhaps as a petty soldier he was only too aware of the fact that few people would know his name. Mitkov narrowed his eyes. “Only essential personnel of the Russian Navy may pass. Do you have an appointment?”

  “This is my advisor from England,” Ito began. “I am—”

  Sherlock raised a hand to stop him. “I wish to speak with your superiors.”

  Mitkov was unmoved. “Do you know the names of any of the ships other than the Kondrat?”

  “The Kesar.”

  “And the others?”

  “The others…?”

  “You tell me you have business here when you do not even know what ships have been anchored? Move along.”

  Ito’s face twisted in outrage. “The insolence! Do you know who…”

  Sherlock grabbed his arm. Ito trailed off mid-sentence. Mitkov continued to stubbornly block their way. Sherlock left, ushering Ito away with him.

  Once they distanced themselves from the gate, Ito spoke in a dissatisfied tone. “If I had identified myself we could have gone inside.”

  “No. We would not have been shown inside, as the commander would have come out to greet you. As Chairman Ito, your position is too elevated. We can’t allow for any preferential dispensation. If we are to discover any information of a private nature we must infiltrate the area by less exceptional means.”

  “The Russians have brought these ships to intimidate us. What do you hope to accomplish by visiting the fleet? Have you discerned something of why the ships are here? They still have not given us a clear answer.”

  Sherlock ignored his questions. “That sailor sounded as if he is accustomed to asking those questions. Most likely he is in a regular habit of having visitors tell him the names of the ships and deciding based on their answers whether to allow them to pass.”

  He stared out toward sea. He could not see any of the names of the ships on the hulls.

  “Russian warships don’t display their names in very large letters,” Ito said, following Sherlock’s gaze. “In accordance with international treaties, however, they do list the names on both port and starboard, albeit in very small English lettering. The names can be found engraved at both the bow and the stern, but you would likely have to approach quite close before you saw them.”

  “With a strong telescope I might be able to see the names of the ships in front, but the subsequent rows are shadowed. And the three ships in the middle row would be difficult to make out even from the offing—oh, but what do we have here?”

  He thought no one was allowed to approach the waters where the Russian warships were anchored. But now he saw a small fishing boat in between the ships, heading to shore.

  “Fishermen are allowed to pass through,” said Ito. “It is their livelihood, after all. There are, however, restrictions in place. They must approach from the southeast, and then pass either to the north or the west. If they attempt to turn back they will be apprehended. Nor are they permitted to stop or slow down.”

  Sherlock pointed toward the horizon. “The sea is to the east?”

  “It is. The fishermen do not put out to sea from here, they only pass through on their way home. Even if we posed as fishermen, it would be impossible to get a full circuit view.”

  Several fishing boats had been pulled aground on the dunes to Sherlock’s left, facing the ocean. The bare-chested fishermen had finished their work and were now busy unloading their hauls, just as he had seen docking in Yokohama.

  It was worth a try. Sherlock began walking in their direction. “We will ask the fishermen.”

  Ito matched his stride. “You mean whether they were able to read the names of the ships?”

  “Fishermen have good eyes. And in Japan, I believe even the common classes receive education in English. I experienced this myself, yesterday. They may have only had glimpses, but a glimpse may be enough.”

  Sherlock came up to the fishermen who were still on their feet, busy at work. “Good morning. I have some questions. Did you see the names of those ships when you passed by them?”

  As he’d expected, the fishermen only furrowed their eyebrows and stared. Sherlock glanced at Ito expectantly. Ito began translating, his expression reluctant.

&nb
sp; One of the fishermen began speaking. He did not seem to realize that this white-bearded man was none other than Hirobumi Ito.

  “He passed through in a zigzag,” Ito explained to Sherlock, “so he does not remember which ship was which. He is unsure if he read the names correctly, but he believes he read Kesar, the Kondo-some-thing-or-other, the Lasu-something-or-other, and the Kuri-some-thing-or-other. It is unclear in what order he saw them.”

  “Hurm.” Sherlock glanced over the fishermen. “Did anyone else see anything?”

  A second man spoke. Sherlock cocked his ear towards the chairman, and Ito interpreted: “I saw Kesar and the Kuri-some-thing-or-other, too. But I don’t remember what route I took. And there was something like Timur, and another starting with a W, I think. I only passed four ships.”

  The third man said, “I can’t remember my route either. I only saw seven ships. The Kondrat, something starting with ‘Ya’ I think, one that looked like…zori. The Kesar, Arsen, and the one starting with a W.”

  “That is only six ships,” Sherlock said.

  The fisherman looked sheepish. “I don’t remember any more. I saw them all out of order, too.”

  The other fisherman shook their heads, helplessly. In the end, the majority had paid no attention to the names of the ships. Ito was even more perplexed than before.

  But Sherlock bowed his head in thanks. “Thank you. It has been extremely enlightening.”

  He turned on his heel and returned in the direction they had come. Ito trotted after him. “I told you. That is the most we can expect from the fishermen.”

  “And yet it was enough. Do you not agree?”

  “We can list the names we know, but that sailor is certain to follow with more difficult questions. Last time he chased us from the gates. This time he may attempt to apprehend us.”

  “Chairman, you ought endeavor to take a more positive view.” Sherlock pointed to a signboard erected on one of the dunes. “I have noticed something about the kanji letters in this area since we arrived. Many of them include three dots along the left side.”