The Quest for the Fuji Cipher (A Richard Halliburton Adventure Book 4)

by Garrett Drake

  Richard shut the door behind Foster and then collapsed onto the bed. The conversation had been draining as well as difficult. Saying no to Foster wasn’t easy, but Richard resisted the urge. Another chapter in his life was just in reach, and he couldn’t wait to dive into it.

  * * *

  WHEN RICHARD APPROACHED The Admiral’s Pier at the stroke of 7:00 p.m., he noticed a line of people struggling to get inside. A pair of bearded men with bulging muscles fought to keep the throng outside. Richard walked up to what seemed like the back of the line to inquire about what was happening.

  Closer to the front, the throng continued to press against the bouncers while chanting something in Russian. As Richard surveyed the situation, he wondered how he was going to find Anaya to get his boarding pass.

  Before doing anything rash, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around to find Anaya standing before him and wearing a wide grin.

  “What’s this all about?” Richard asked, glancing back toward the pub. “You didn’t promise anyone that I would be wrestling that blockhead again, did you?”

  She laughed. “No, of course, not. But they are here to see you.”

  “Me?” Richard asked as he drew back. “What on Earth for? Surely you’re joking?”

  “It’s a tradition that The Royal Utö orchestra plays at The Admiral’s Pier the night before leaving port,” she said. “And, so, you’re up.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “I’m supposed to play? Right now?”

  “My uncle wanted to hear you play before he gave you free passage.”

  Richard eyed her closely. “So, this is an audition of sorts?”

  “Not of sorts. It is a true audition. If you meet my uncle’s standards, you’ll receive your boarding pass.”

  “And if not?”

  “You’ll have to earn enough money to purchase a ticket like everyone else.”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” he said.

  “No, I’m not. But why do you seem so concerned? You weren’t lying to me about your ability to play the violin, were you?”

  “I can play it, but I get extremely nervous in front of a large crowd of people.”

  “Then you better get over it—and fast.”

  “I haven’t even had a chance to practice or warm up.”

  Anaya shoved Richard in the back, directing him around the corner of the building.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “The only way we’re getting inside,” she said.

  She hustled past and ushered him through the back entrance. Moments later, Richard was handed a violin along with several pieces of sheet music. He settled into his seat along with a dozen other musicians.

  “Ready?” the man seated next to Richard asked.

  Richard wanted to shake his head, but he couldn’t. He fingered the strings on the fret and raised his bow. Before he knew it, he was sawing away along with the rest of the makeshift orchestra.

  Richard swallowed hard after the first song when he looked up at the applauding crowd. Before he had an opportunity to revel in the moment, the conductor nodded at the rest of the musicians and started in on the next song, a truncated version of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. Richard was familiar with the piece and had no problems handling the tender introduction that relied upon the strings to carry the tune.

  Three more songs later, Richard finished playing and rubbed the tips of his fingers in an attempt to soothe them. With his callouses long gone, the searing pain made him wonder if he could sustain playing every night for the two-week trip across the Pacific Ocean. He was still looking down at his hands when he felt a slap on the back. Richard looked up to see Otto Lindstrom, arguably one of the most powerful men in this part of the world. Lindstrom’s shipping enterprise had blossomed, enabling him to become one of the titans of the industry.

  “That was outstanding playing, lad,” Lindstrom said.

  Richard stood and shook Lindstrom’s hand. “Thank you, sir. I didn’t realize I’d be thrown into the fire like that, but I’m glad it sounded sufficient.”

  “Sufficient?” Lindstrom said with a chuckle. “My boy, you’re far too modest. That was truly amazing, especially for what we’re used to around here.”

  “You’re too kind,” Richard said.

  “I’ve been called worse,” Lindstrom said as he whipped out a boarding pass and then handed it to Richard. “Enjoy your trip.”

  “Thank you, sir. I—”

  Richard didn’t even finish expressing his gratitude before Lindstrom spun and walked away into an adoring audience. He glad-handed every one that wanted to speak to him before being swallowed up by the crowd.

  Anaya bounded up to Richard. “What do you think? Isn’t he a gentleman in every sense of the word? I absolutely adore him.”

  “He’s more than gracious for letting me on this voyage.”

  “You’re going to earn your way, but I can’t say I remember seeing Uncle Otto glow like that. I don’t think you have any idea how much he enjoyed your addition to the orchestra.”

  “Well, I must get back. I have a long journey ahead.”

  Anaya stuck her bottom lip out and batted her crystal-blue eyes at him. “But you said we were going to dance.”

  “Oh, all right,” he said. “Just one dance. After that, I have to go.”

  * * *

  WHEN RICHARD AWOKE, he scrambled to his feet and checked the clock: 6:45 a.m. After snatching his bag, Richard raced out of the hostel and down to the ship, which was nearly finished. He flashed his boarding pass to the man on the dock, who waved Richard onboard. However, he didn’t get any farther than onboard when someone shuffled in front of him and impeded his path up the ramp and onto the ship.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Richard said with his head down as he attempted to push his way past the man.

  The man didn’t budge, instead putting a shoulder into Richard’s chest.

  “Sir, I—” Richard said before looking up and coming face to face with Hank Foster.

  “Richard,” Foster said.

  “No, no, no. I already gave you my decision. Now, please step aside so I can get on board. I’m actually part of the staff.”

  “Is that how you want this voyage to be? You dwelling far below deck, sleeping on an uncomfortable bed made even more uncomfortable by the tempests that stir in the Pacific?”

  “What part of no don’t you understand? It’s really a simple answer.”

  “Don’t make me beg, Richard.”

  Richard smiled wryly. “Never considered that, but that would be some quality entertainment. Perhaps you can join us on the trip, and when the orchestra isn’t playing you can provide us with a sideshow to enthrall the masses where you ask me a hundred different ways to do something for you. And every time I reject you. The audience will be expecting me to accept your offer at any moment, but I’m set in my ways, creating a tension-filled story.”

  “I’d rather—”

  “What?” Richard asked. “You’d rather what?”

  Foster huffed. “Just don’t get on this ship, please. I need you. Your government needs you.”

  “I’m going home, okay? Now, please step aside and let me pass.”

  Foster moved back and gestured for Richard to pass.

  “Thank you,” Richard said as he flung his bag over his shoulder and strode past Foster.

  “Good luck, Richard,” Foster said. “I’m really disappointed, especially after I received a telegram this morning from my friend at the Feakins Agency.”

  Richard stopped and slowly turned around. “I thought we had a deal. I help you out and then you help me connect with your publisher, not a speaking agent.”

  “We did,” Foster said, dangling the note in front of Richard, “but your potential agent is very interested in material on Japan. It’s something his speakers don’t have much of. And without it, I’m not sure he’ll be willing to take you on.”

  Richard snatched up the letter, scanning it quickly. “How
do I even know this is real?”

  “Feel free to contact him when you get back to the United States.”

  “This feels like extortion.”

  “Look, I’m just passing along the message. It’s something you wanted to do a few days ago. And now you can. All it includes is a short little errand for Uncle Sam. You can kill two birds with one stone.”

  “It’s more like two stones to kill one bird.”

  “However you want to look at it, that’s your prerogative. But you have a decision to make—and I don’t think you’re really left with much of a choice if you want that publishing deal.”

  Richard sighed, stewing for a moment as he stared out across the water. The whole note could’ve been concocted by Foster, which Richard wouldn’t put past the Army Intelligence officer. But if the publisher actually sent that note, Richard stood to lose the chance of a lifetime.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it. But I’m not exactly thrilled to be working for any publisher that treats a prospective author this way.”

  “Welcome to the world of publishing,” Foster said. “It’s almost as seedy as the world of espionage.”

  “And lucky me,” Richard said. “I’ve got a foot in each one of them.”

  “Well, let’s get going. Your next adventure awaits.”

  Chapter 4

  RICHARD LUGGED THE TWO sacks of mail along with his bag onto The Ardent, an aging steamship that made a weekly trip between Vladivostok, Russia and Tsuruga, Japan. For the past three days, he’d spent his time at the consulate going over all the details of his delivery and learning a few basic phrases in Japanese. The Ardent was scheduled to depart several days earlier, but the icy waters in the Sea of Japan had other plans. With the delay, Richard had the extra time he needed to prepare for his trip and subsequent mission.

  After Richard handed his boarding pass to the attendant at the dock, the man stamped the document and directed Richard to the bowels of the boat. Upon arriving in his room, he shook his head, wondering if there was a mistake. He flagged down a porter to let him inspect the piece of paper.

  “This is your room,” the man said, nodding at Richard’s assigned door. “It’s correct.”

  “Down here,” Richard said. “It’s dank and dark.”

  “You should’ve paid for a first class ticket,” the man said with a shrug before scurrying away.

  Richard agreed, though Foster had apologized when handing over the third-class ticket. According to him, all the other cabins were full.

  It’s just for two nights. I suppose I can manage.

  Resigned to his fate, Richard flung his bag onto the floor and placed the two mail sacks in the closet. He plopped down on the bed to test it out. Seconds later, he sprang to his feet and stared back at it.

  I’ll never get any sleep on that thing.

  The mattress hardly had any springs left in it, and what remained felt like rocks. Richard hopped up and decided to explore the steamship, anything to stay out of his dark, musty room.

  Unlike the vessel he’d taken from the U.S. to Europe, this one was low on amenities. Aside from the activities in first class, the rest of the decks were akin to cattle herding. Passengers were let out to eat, allowed to spend some time roaming around a small area, and then directed back into their rooms at night.

  The minutes seemed to drip by. Richard passed the time by reading A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle he’d found among the sparse offerings in the ship’s library. After dinner, he read a few chapters before eventually falling asleep.

  When Richard awoke the next morning, he could hardly move, his back stiff from the ill-suited bed. He groaned as he sat up and then staggered over to his bag to get a fresh set of clothes. Looking at his watch, he grimaced, knowing he still had at least another thirty-six hours before they reached port in Tsuruga.

  He spent most of his day reading, finishing up Doyle’s book and falling in love with the character of Sherlock Holmes. When dinnertime arrived, Richard shuffled into the hallway and proceeded to lock the door to his room, securing the mail with the cipher tucked safely inside the pouches. He turned to head down the corridor to go to eat but froze when a young woman approached him. She wore a red dress with a printed pattern of cherry blossoms, her dark hair pulled up in a taut bun.

  “Excuse me, are you going to dinner now?” she asked in English.

  Richard nodded. “Do you need an escort to dinner?”

  “That would be most appreciated.”

  “Richard Halliburton, at your service, ma’am,” he said.

  “My name is Hisako, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He offered her his arm and ushered her to the dining room. Over the meal, they exchanged stories about adventures in traveling as well as what their homelands were like.

  “Tell me about Mt. Fuji,” Richard said. “I want to climb it.”

  “You’ll have to wait for that,” she said. “No guide will take you to the summit until the weather warms up. It’s treacherous to make such an attempt in the winter, so much so that it’s never been done.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  Hisako shook her head. “No, that’s a warning. Don’t dare try that—at least, not if you value your life. The weather can change up there in a matter of minutes.”

  “I’m always up for a little excitement.”

  “Not that kind,” she said. “You don’t want anything to do with Mt. Fuji during this season.”

  As dinner progressed, Richard learned that Hisako was returning from Russia where she’d gone to perform a dance at a cultural festival in Moscow. She’d been all over the world as part of a small troop that represented Japan internationally. However, she’d yet to visit the United States, a fact she expressed disappointment over.

  “I hear America is really beautiful,” she said. “One day, I hope I’ll get the chance to visit there, maybe even dance for your president.”

  “President Harding? He’d probably like that.”

  “Of course he would.”

  “No, Harding would especially like that, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do,” she said before dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

  Richard glanced around the room before he leaned close, speaking in a hushed tone. “It’s just a rumor at this point, but the president has quite the reputation as being a little sweet on the ladies, the kind his wife wouldn’t approve of.”

  “I understand,” she said. “Sounds like most world leaders, if I must be frank.”

  After dinner concluded, Hisako looked at Richard. “Any plans for this evening?”

  “I haven’t considered anything other than trying to find another book to read in the library.”

  “A dashing young man like yourself isn’t going to dance?”

  “I love to dance, but not after last night’s sleep.”

  “What happened?”

  “My lumpy bed feels as if it’s stuffed with rocks. When I woke up, I thought someone had beaten me in the back with a chef’s mallet. As a result of that, I’m ever so sore. And if you know me, you’d understand how awful I must feel, for dancing is one of my greatest joys.”

  Hisako smiled and patted Richard on his hand. “Dancing will help you limber up.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  “There’s only one way to find out. Come, join me.”

  Richard rubbed the lower part of his back and grimaced. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t be a stick in the mud. It’ll be fun.”

  “Oh, all right,” Richard said with a sigh before he trudged off with Hisako to the dance floor.

  The community hall was half full as the ship’s orchestra had just begun their first set. Richard led Hisako onto the floor to dance where they started with the Fox Trot to Irving Berlin’s “Say It with Music.” After a few minutes, Richard’s back started to loosen up. However, three songs later, searing pain returned—and stronger than before.r />
  “I’m sorry,” Richard said. “I just can’t do this anymore. Let me be a gentleman and walk you back to your room.”

  “If you insist,” Hisako said.

  The two chatted about dancing as they walked down the corridor leading to their quarters. When they arrived outside Hisako’s door, she took his hands in hers.

  “Thank you for making the effort tonight, even though I can tell you’re in quite a bit of pain.”

  “I appreciate you giving me the push,” he said before wincing.

  “If you’d allow me to, I could give you a massage. Maybe it’d help you get a better night of sleep.”

  “That’s a kind offer, but I think I’m just going back to my room. I’m definitely not like President Harding.”

  Hisako blushed. “Oh, no. That’s not why I was asking. I’m trained in Anma, an ancient Japanese massage technique. You’d be surprised how much it might help.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “You won’t be. Please, come in.”

  “All right,” Richard said. “If you insist.”

  “I do.”

  Richard entered her room and shuffled to one side of the tight quarters as he waited for Hisako. She squeezed past him before gesturing for him to sit down on her bed.

  “Mine is not made of rocks,” she said with a soft laugh.

  Richard settled onto the firm mattress before wondering how he was assigned the cabin with most likely the worst bed on the entire ship.

  “Before we begin, Anma is about teaching your body to relax. And that process starts with a cup of tea. I will go down the hall to get us some and be right back.”

  Richard glanced around the stark room, which was identical to his with the exception of the more comfortable bed. Hanging up in the small closet were a pair of pink and purple kimonos decorated with flowery images. A picture of Hisako and a man dressed in military attire sat on her nightstand.

  She returned a couple minutes later with a pair of mugs. “Here you go,” she said. “Herbal tea from my country.”

  "It smells delicious," Richard said as he took the teacup from her. Then he glanced at her photograph. "Is that your fiancé?"