“Ah, that is called the sanzui. It represents a spray of water. This one here, with the sanzui, is the character for ‘sea,’ and this one is the character for ‘wave.’” Ito pointed to another kanji character with the same three dots. “This one means swimming. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, these characters all have something to do with water.”
“Very edifying.” Sherlock continued walking. “I learned some of the rudiments of kanji from Asako. She explains things very well, much like you. I suspect she would make an excellent teacher.”
“Asako, a teacher?” Ito grimaced. “That would be fine, but I’m afraid she is only playing the cat for you.”
“Playing the cat…?”
“Excuse me, it is a Japanese expression. It is like the English phrase…butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth?”
“If she is difficult at home you have only yourself to blame.”
“I told you, I am already well aware of that fact.”
They arrived at the gate once more and saw First-Class Seaman Mitkov had just allowed an ornately dressed woman to pass through. His easy-going expression quickly disappeared when he caught sight again of Sherlock and Ito.
“What do you want now?” he asked.
“My apologies for earlier,” Sherlock called, his tone suddenly booming and pompous. “I’d forgotten to ask my friend in the Russian legation for the names of the ships.”
“Your friend?” Mitkov smirked condescendingly. “Fine. Then what is the name of the ship behind the flagship, to the side?”
Ito winced. There was no way he would pass the man’s questioning.
But Sherlock remained calm. “I believe you are referring to the Laskar. Construction began at the Baltic Shipyard on February 10, 1887. The ship was launched on October 10 of the following year, and was commissioned on July 1, the year after that.”
Mitkov’s eyes widened. “And the ship behind the Kesar?” he added, his tone less certain. “The one anchored to the northeast.”
“The Timur. It is an improved model of the Laskar and was commissioned on May 11, 1890. All nine ships are Vladimir Monomakh-class, but the Timur is the fastest. It is positioned in the northeast to lead the fleet, as one would expect.”
“Ah…and the ship to the southeast…”
“Seaman Mitkov, how long do you mean to prolong this tedious game? Do tell me…that is, if you wish to make petty officer someday. The Yakov is anchored directly behind the Kondrat, but I would see to maintenance of the two ships in attendance behind the Timur first, those closest to the offing, the Kliment and the Walery. After all, there is not much use in having the latest ships if they are not kept in working order. Placing the Zaur and Arsen in the rear was the obvious choice.
“Seaman Mitkov, I am an Englishman, true, but in recognition of my particular advantages Ambassador Shevich and Lt. Colonel Kanevsky have requested my advice in strengthening the fleet. I would not be above recommending changes in personnel as well if there need be.”
Mitkov jumped aside in a panic. “My apologies, sir! Please forgive me.”
“Much better.” Sherlock passed through.
Natural politician that he was, Ito betrayed no sign of surprise as he followed. Through the gates there were rows of Western buildings. Russians in uniform as well as woman and children milled about. There were very few non-Russian foreigners visible. It seemed the port was under partial Russian occupation. It was no wonder, Sherlock thought, that Ito feared war.
So far Ito had remained nonchalant. As soon as they turned the corner, however, he could no longer conceal his curiosity. “How did you know the names and positions of the ships? And the dates of construction and commission, as well?”
Sherlock placed a finger to his lips, urging quiet. “It was elementary, Chairman. I thought I would give our seaman friend a showing, considering how impertinent he had been. I was already somewhat familiar with the Vladimir Monomakh-class ships from what I have read in the papers. The ‘kuri-something-or-other’ was obviously the Kliment. The ship beginning with ‘ya’ must have been the Yakov. Lasu would be Laskar, and the ship starting with W was obviously the Walery. Naturally ‘zori’ could only be Zaur. I had seen no diagrams or photographs, however, and could not be sure which ship was which.”
“But surely you could not have worked out their positions only from what the fishermen said?”
“Chairman, surely I could. The fishermen were headed toward the northern tip of the beach, meaning they would approach from the southeast and pass through to the northwest. They would not have passed the three westernmost ships on the berth side. The first fisherman stated that he had gone in a zigzag. If he had passed between two ships in the rear that would have been impossible. First he travelled along the southeastern ship’s starboard and then turned west at its bow. Next he travelled north, and then west, and then finally exited travelling north.”
“But he only remembered the ships’ names. He had forgotten in which order he had seen them. And the other two couldn’t remember how they had passed through at all.”
“Chairman Ito, having taken such pains to acquire this information it might behoove you to apply your mind to its judicious application. The second fisherman stated that he saw four ships. The only plausible route by which that would be possible would be if he had travelled starboard along the three ships furthest toward the offing and then turned west.”
“Of course!”
“Furthermore, we know that the three ships toward the offing, in no clear order, are the Kliment, the Timur, and the Walery. But as the first fisherman witnessed the Kliment, we know it cannot be the northeastern ship.”
“This is becoming difficult…”
“The third fisherman saw seven ship names. That means he either travelled starboard along the southeast ship, turned west at the bow, travelled straight, and then turned north after the second ship, or he began by travelling west behind two ships, and then turned north and travelled straight. No other routes are possible.”
“I will take your word for it.”
“He also saw the Walery, meaning that the northeastern ship is not the Walery, either. A process of elimination therefore tells us that it is the Timur. Then, either the Kliment and Walery must be the ship in the southeast corner, and the one before it, the Laskar—which the first fisherman saw—must be the middle ship. That leaves the second berthed ship, the ship behind that one, and the ship east-adjacent to that. But two rear ships face each other across the channel, and these two must be the Zaur and Arsen. So this means the third fisherman chose the latter of the two possible routes I mentioned earlier. Therefore, the second berthed ship is the Yakov.”
“Wait…Are you saying you were not sure where all the ships are positioned? As you explain it, you still don’t know which ship is the Kliment and which is the Walery. Nor the Zaur and Arsen.”
Sherlock grinned. “Precisely. I predicted, however, that Seaman Metkov would first inquire as to the name of the middle ship. It is the most difficult ship to observe from all angles. Had he asked for a ship I did not know, I intended rather to see us through by using the trivia I had at my disposal to overwhelm him.”
Ito’s eyes twinkled in appreciation. “Mr. Holmes, you show remarkable intelligence and fortitude.”
Sherlock accepted the compliment. “Thank you. Now come, let us discover what it is the Russians are up to.”
As they walked, he felt lighter in step. He observed the other passersby closely.
“What do you expect to find?” asked Ito, dubiously.
“From what you told me earlier, Russia displayed aggression once before in July. Ambassador Shevich’s agitation this morning seems strange, considering two months have passed since. He seemed quite intent. This leads me to believe that a person of some stature has arrived in Japan, someone important enough to intimidate even the ambassador.”
; “We have received no such reports. The ships in the harbor are only medium class.”
“Likely the person has come in secret. He chose not to travel by imperial flagship so as to conceal his presence.”
Ito looked shocked. “You believe that Tsarevich Nicholas has returned to Japan?”
“I am not certain yet, but in light of Ambassador Shevich’s behavior the possibility is significant. For obvious reasons, I highly doubt the Emperor would be in Japan. The Crown Prince, however, might…”
Suddenly Sherlock stopped short. He raised a hand to restrain Ito.
There was a brick building in front of him, by which several men dressed in both frock coats and uniforms stood conversing. He recognized two of their faces.
Lt. Colonel Kanevsky was first to notice them. His face immediately froze. He leaned over and whispered to Shevich, who was next to Kanevsky in conversation with another person. Shevich immediately turned his eyes in their direction. His expression grew stony.
Sherlock heard him speaking in Russian to the other persons present. It seemed he had directed them to leave. The group dispersed until only Shevich and Kanevsky remained.
Ito walked toward the two men, bowing his head deeply. “Ambassador, thank you for your visit this morning.”
“What is this?” Shevich looked furious. “What would possess you to show your face here? I request that you leave immediately.”
“Strange,” Sherlock mused. “We are in Shinagawa Daiba, a section of Tokyo. Why should Chairman Ito be barred entry? Even considering that Russia has used its military force to illegitimately occupy the area.”
Shevich wheeled on the detective. “No one has given you permission to enter, Sherlock Holmes. It is just like one of the Queen’s rats, to slip in through a crack in the wall.”
“After learning of the Tsarevich’s presence, Chairman Ito and I thought to offer our greetings directly.”
Kanevsky spoke through gritted teeth. “Who told you that…”
Shevich checked him quickly. The lieutenant colonel clenched his jaw in mid-sentence.
Shevich glanced back and forth between the other two. “There must have been some sort of mistake. As you see, no imperial flagship is present in the harbor.”
“It is very suspicious that the Laskar has anchored in the center, as if it is being protected. Perhaps you care to explain?”
“Dead men should not ask so many questions. Do you want to be thrown into the brig?”
“Should anything happen to me, the British Empire will be informed of what has occurred.”
Shevich’s jaw twitched. Kanevsky fell silent as well. He cast a glance at Shevich.
It was a bluff, of course. There were advantages to their believing him to be a British spy, at least for the moment.
“Mr. Holmes,” Kanevsky grumbled at last. “The international community does not look kindly on spies who fake their death to travel overseas. As soon as we gather the requisite proof we will report you.”
“I wonder how the international community might look upon the illegal occupation of one of Japan’s ports.”
“We have paid to rent this space,” Shevich barked, evidently displeased. “The restrictions we have placed on ships moving through the harbor were also negotiated with Japan. Ask Chairman Ito.”
Sherlock glared. “By negotiation, I assume you mean threats of force. Europe and America will find it difficult to notice an invasion if you do it in stages. So long as I am present, however, it will not pass. London will hear of this.”
Shevich scratched his head. “Clearly we do not see eye to eye. What can we do at the moment, to end this meeting peacefully and convince you to leave the area?”
“I wish to know what actually occurred when Tsarevich Nicholas was attacked at Otsu.”
“Then you should ask Chairman Ito. You are aware, I presume, that the perpetrator was captured and is being held in Japan.”
“I don’t understand,” Ito said. “Russia was originally happy with the way events concluded. Why is the issue being brought back up?”
“Japan is to blame. The Tsarevich is outraged at your country’s failure to reach an appropriate judgment in Sanzo Tsuda’s case. The Emperor shares in his displeasure.”
“Has the Tsarevich’s injury worsened?”
“Nothing of the sort.”
“Then allow me to meet with the Tsarevich and receive his concerns in person.”
“Impossible. At present he will grant no audiences, not even with your Emperor himself. He is uninterested, as he says, in hearing from ‘the monkeys.’”
Sherlock laughed derisively. “Monkeys, you say. Indeed, there is something there. Why might the Tsarevich now detest the Japanese, when previously he searched the country for a wife?”
Ito also stood his ground, unconvinced. “If I cannot meet with His Highness, then I would like to speak with the Russian staff who travelled with him during his visit in May.”
“To what end?”
“To learn why the Tsarevich has changed his opinion,” Sherlock chimed in. “If we cannot meet with the Tsarevich himself, it is only logical that we should like to hear from those who travelled with and were close to him.”
“Perhaps you would like to fly to Greece and meet with Prince George,” Shevich said coldly. “As a ghost I am sure you can spirit yourself away at a moment’s notice.”
“I was hoping rather to impose on your good faith.”
Kanevsky pressed his lips together firmly and glanced again at Shevich.
The other man finally looked wry. “Chairman Ito, were I to grant your request and set up a meeting with the Tsarevich’s attendants, would you promise to keep this Englishman from sniffing about any further?”
Sherlock and Ito exchanged looks. “So be it,” Ito agreed, returning his attention to Shevich.
Shevich’s eyes glittered suspiciously in response. “As you know, last year, the Tsarevich began his tour of the Near East and Asia. Japan was his last port of call. His Russian attendants were chosen upon careful screening by the court. Would one of these attendants be acceptable?”
“So long as they actually travelled with the Tsarevich during his trip.”
“We will confirm the details in advance in writing. Once I receive your signature and seal, I will send the attendants to wait on you.”
“That will be acceptable. How long will you take?”
“We could be ready by this afternoon. You need only wait at the palace. One of my counsel will bring you the documents, and if all passes muster I will send the attendants forthwith.”
“So the attendants are in Japan now,” Sherlock mused, as though to himself.
Shevich turned on his heel, purposefully ignoring him. “Now. I would appreciate it if you leave this area immediately.”
Kanevsky cast Sherlock a bitter look as he took after Shevich. The two didn’t look back.
Ito sighed. “Let’s not provoke them any further. We should leave for now.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Sherlock stared at the nine ships, floating upon the water. “We have made progress, however. We now know that the central figure in this drama himself, Tsarevich Nicholas, is out there, waiting.”
15
Sherlock and Ito arrived at the Privy Council Chairman’s office at a little past one in the afternoon. The first person to meet them was the Russian legation’s legal counsel, who presented a document outlining Shevich’s previous stipulations and requested Ito’s signature and seal.
The counsel also brought photographs and dossiers for the two attendants they were to meet. The first was Soslan Chekhov, a collegiate assessor of the 8th rank, aged 46, a plump man with frizzy red hair and round glasses. He worked for the Ministry of State Property. Chekhov’s portly stature clearly indicated that he was a civil worker, rather than in the military. Though he had s
erved as a staff officer for some time, he had apparently been chosen as one of Nicholas’ attendants primarily for his extensive ability in English, having studied overseas in England.
The second attendant was Anna Luzhkova, aged 37. She was of noble birth, proficient in both English and French, and had previously worked as a university instructor before becoming employed, like Chekhov, in the Ministry of State Property. In the photo, her face was thin and unusually severe in appearance.
Attached to the dossiers were credentials attesting that the two had been selected as attendants by the court.
Ito signed the papers, and the counsel left by carriage. Half an hour passed. A new carriage arrived, and Collegiate Assessor Chekhov and Anna Luzhkova entered Ito’s office. They matched their photographs in every detail. Both were unassuming, but of the two Chekhov seemed the least reliable—at a glance, Sherlock could tell he was retiring and timid by nature.
He was gripped by a sinking feeling. He guessed that though Chekhov was surely diligent in his work, he was in all likelihood less than capable of acquitting himself deftly in the Tsarevich’s presence. His role as an attendant had, therefore, probably only been secondary.
Minutes into their interview, his fears were confirmed. The two had not even accompanied Nicholas to Japan!
Chekhov and Anna were not attendants to Nicholas so much as they were to his younger brother Grand Duke George. And it was this Grand Duke George who had contracted a cold and returned to Russia early in the trip. Apparently Chekhov and Anna had left with him, and accompanied the Grand Duke on his official duties inside Russia. They knew almost nothing of the Otsu incident in Japan.
Ito leaned against the back of his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “We have been fooled. These are indeed two of the attendants chosen by the court. They satisfy all of the stipulations that I signed earlier.”
Sherlock forced himself to hide his disappointment with a smile. “Shevich is very clever in his leveraging of documents, just as with his previous agreement with Foreign Minister Aoki. Of all people, I should have known better. I played right into his hands. We should have been more thorough and clearly stipulated for attendants who had followed Nicholas in Japan.”
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