‘A little more than that is what I’ve heard.’
‘Yes. The Chinese are angry. They do not believe the assurance they have been given that Shantung will eventually be restored to them. They blame President Wilson for the bargain he struck with my lord Saionji. I hear the President has been given extra bodyguards in case there is an attempt on his life. There are many Chinese students in Paris. Some of them are very . . . hot-headed.’
‘What about Saionji? Has he been given extra bodyguards?’
‘No, no. My lord Saionji is not a fearful man.’
‘Maybe he should be.’
‘Maybe so. But . . .’ Yamanaka glanced at Sam. ‘We should not sit here too long in public view like this, Mr Twentyman. What help do you need from me?’
‘We’ve got a Japanese document we need you to translate.’
‘It may have been stolen from your delegation’s hotel, Mr Yamanaka,’ said Morahan. ‘Or from Saionji’s residence.’
‘Stolen by whom?’
‘Le Singe,’ said Sam in an undertone.
Yamanaka looked alarmed.
‘Is he thought to have stolen anything?’ asked Morahan.
Yamanaka dropped his voice. ‘Yes.’
‘It’s vital we know what it says.’
‘I understand.’
‘My apartment’s near by. You can look at it there.’
‘I do not have long. I have duties to perform. If I am missed . . .’
‘How long?’
Yamanaka consulted his watch. ‘I must be at the Hotel Bristol in one hour and a quarter.’
Morahan nodded. ‘Let’s step on it, then.’
As Sam and Morahan were hurrying out of the Gare St-Lazare with Yamanaka, Max and Appleby were boarding a taxi outside the Athenaeum in London. In his hand Appleby held the package Max had deposited with the club’s porter the previous evening.
‘Two, Whitehall Court, then Victoria station,’ Appleby said to the driver.
‘Right you are, sir.’
‘We’ll drop this off first,’ Appleby said to Max as the taxi drew away. He closed the glass between them and the driver. ‘There’s time enough.’
‘You don’t have to come to the station with me, Horace,’ said Max. ‘I’m not a schoolboy being sent back after the holidays.’
‘I’ll come and there’s an end of it.’
‘Very well.’
‘I’ve been thinking about what Lemmer said to you on the telephone.’
‘Have you?’
‘Would you have guessed he might be planning to sell his operation if he hadn’t said, “Those who’ve been bought can be sold”?’
‘Probably not.’
‘I think he only said it to lure you back to Paris.’
‘So do I.’
‘You do?’
‘Certainly.’ Max craned his neck for a view of Nelson as they headed across Trafalgar Square. ‘I decided to turn a blind eye to the possibility.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I have to go, whatever Lemmer has in mind for me.’
‘He’s well aware you’ll never become his loyal lieutenant, Max. He wants you in Paris because it suits his purpose.’
‘I know.’
‘Yet still you’re willing to go?’
‘I have to go. And you have to send me.’ Max looked around and smiled at Appleby. ‘It really is as simple as that.’
The doings of Max’s family had not crossed his mind in many days. If asked, he would have said they were doubtless pursuing their humdrum existences, his brother, sister-in-law and mother in Surrey, his uncle George in London, his nephew and niece at their places of genteel education.
He would have been well wide of the mark, of course, where his mother and uncle were concerned. George Clissold was just then being roused at the Hôtel Dieu in Paris by a nurse bearing a cup of coffee, for which he was grateful, though even more so on account of her radiant smile.
‘’Zere ’as been a telephone call, Monsieur Clissold,’ the nurse announced. ‘From ’ze ’Otel Mirabeau.’
‘Tell them to hold my room,’ George said, surprised by how hoarse his voice had become overnight.
‘’Zey did not call about your room. Your sister is ’zere.’
‘She is?’
‘And soon she will be ’ere. So, we must make you . . . beaucoup arrangé, non?’
‘Win will soon be here,’ George murmured to himself, staring dolefully into his coffee. He looked up at the nurse. ‘Any chance of some whisky in this?’
‘Veesky?’ Judging by her horrified expression, the chance was slim.
‘I’ll settle for brandy.’
YAMANAKA WAS NOT a fast reader, but his concentration suggested he was a thorough one. Sam smoked his way through numerous cigarettes while he and Morahan waited for their translator to speak. Morahan spent most of the vigil standing by the window, gazing down at the street. Sam wondered if he feared they might be under observation, but was not disposed to ask. Dangers he could not avert were in his view best not dwelt upon.
Yamanaka marked the end of his reading with a pensive sip of tea. ‘What time is it?’ he asked.
‘Half an hour before you’re due at the Bristol,’ said Morahan, perching himself on the edge of the armchair facing Yamanaka.
‘What’s it say, Mr Yamanaka?’ asked Sam.
‘Ah, what does it say?’ Yamanaka drew breath. He looked nervous – intimidated by what he had read. ‘I wish Commissioner Kuroda was here to advise me.’
‘And I wish I read Japanese,’ said Morahan. ‘Just give us the gist.’
‘Yes,’ said Yamanaka. ‘Of course. This document has come from the most secret files of Marquess Saionji, Mr Morahan, Mr Twentyman. It includes reports made to him by several people and notes in his own hand. Some of the reports are by Commissioner Kuroda. I have never seen any of this before. It is extremely sensitive. I am not authorized to have access to such material. Telling you what it contains is not allowed by my oath of loyalty to the Emperor.’
‘But Kuroda said you’d give me any help I needed,’ said Sam in alarm.
‘Yes. He told me also. And I revere Commissioner Kuroda almost as a son reveres his father. So, I will tell you. It is not easy for me. But I will tell you.
‘The document concerns Count Tomura Iwazu. Marquess Saionji appears to regard him as a threat to the harmony of the state, perhaps to the Emperor himself. He has assembled information about Count Tomura’s life in order to assess the threat he may represent.
‘Count Tomura is an unusual man. He was born into a princely family, like Marquess Saionji. But he has not followed a princely life. He has fought in wars and entered court service. That is as it should be. But he has also done business in the wider empire, some of it not respectable, according to this document – some not even legal.’
‘Such as?’ asked Morahan.
‘It begins in Taiwan, colonized after the war against China. He seems to have been close to Goto Shinpei, Chief of Civil Affairs on the island at that time. Through the Bureau of Opium, he acquired large tracts of poppy-growing land. Then, after the war against Russia, he moved into Manshu–Manchuria. He has been a director of the South Manchurian Railway Company since its foundation. Its first president was Goto Shinpei. The SMR owns coal-mines as well as railways. Its reputation is for profit above everything else. It works its coolies hard – often to death. But it makes much money for men such as Count Tomura.
‘He is active in Chosen also – Korea, as you would know it. He has been a director of the Oriental Development Company since its foundation.’
‘Travis mentioned that to me,’ said Morahan. ‘And a lot more about the heroin and morphine trade – a real money-spinner for Tomura, apparently.’
‘Oh yes. He is very wealthy. And ruthless. Marquess Saionji comments here on the strategy Count Tomura has proposed to Prime Minister Hara for dealing with unrest in Chosen following the March first riots in Keijo. His idea, according to this docu
ment, is to suppress opium selling in the colony and encourage the sale and consumption of morphine. You see what he means to do? Literally to drug the Koreans into submission. It is a horrible idea. But it is also very clever, since it will help the Japanese morphine-producing companies whose market has declined now the war is over and there are no more wounded soldiers to treat. Count Tomura is believed to be a large shareholder in Taisho Seiyaku, one of our biggest drug companies. Marquess Saionji calls this in his notes “unprincipled self-interest”.
‘But that is not the worst. Marquess Saionji also believes Count Tomura has a secret business partnership with Muraoka Iheiji, who is suspected of trafficking kidnapped Japanese women to brothels in Chosen, Taiwan and China. He has no proof, but there is a reference in his notes to a woman kidnapped from her home near Nagasaki and forced to work as a prostitute in Keijo who says she saw Muraoka with Count Tomura on several occasions.’
‘Drugs, prostitution and sweated labour,’ growled Morahan. ‘He’d fit right in in Chicago.’
‘If he is a gangster, Mr Morahan, he knows how to hide it. Maybe his political connections are the answer. It is clear from this document that Marquess Saionji believes they are. My lord Saionji is sometimes criticized for treating younger courtiers disdainfully – for not understanding them. When he was born, Japan was still a closed country. Now it is open to the world and the world is open to it. Count Tomura is of the same generation. But some would say he has moved more readily with the times. He has made allegiances with younger politicians. Konoe Fumimaro, who is a junior member of our delegation, is a contemporary and friend of Count Tomura’s son, Noburo. Konoe is from a princely family and is spoken of as a future national leader. Count Tomura is also a close ally of Prime Minister Hara. Marquess Saionji notes that in his opinion the Prime Minister is unwise to trust Count Tomura. Clearly, Marquess Saionji does not.
‘His reasons involve Commissioner Kuroda, who has long believed Count Tomura was involved in the 1891 assassination attempt against the Tsarevich. I know that because he has told me so. It is not directly mentioned in this document. But Count Tomura’s connections with the Dark Ocean Society are.’
‘Travis told me Dark Ocean were responsible for the assassination of Queen Min,’ said Morahan.
‘Queen who?’ asked Sam in bewilderment. The conspiratorial intricacies of oriental politics were beyond him.
‘Empress Myongsong of Korea, Mr Twentyman,’ Yamanaka explained. ‘Assassinated in the Korean Royal Palace in October 1895. Both Commissioner Kuroda and Marquess Saionji fear Dark Ocean remains committed to the murder of its political enemies. But the society does not act openly. It works through intermediaries. That is why it is so difficult to deal with the organization. Some do not even believe it exists.’
‘But it does, doesn’t it?’ asked Morahan.
‘Yes.’ Yamanaka nodded solemnly. ‘Assuredly it does.’
‘And Tomura’s a member?’
‘A senior member, according to this document. That is why these . . . pieces of paper . . . are so dangerous. They commit Marquess Saionji to the contention that Count Tomura is a criminal and a terrorist – a traitor to his country. There is no proof. There are only rumours and allegations and suggestive reports and interesting coincidences. But it is hard to read them and not to believe he is those things.’
‘No wonder he’s desperate to get hold of it.’
‘Somehow he has learnt the document exists and that le Singe has stolen it. He will want to know how far my lord Saionji has taken this investigation – what he has discovered and what he suspects. And he will want to prevent anyone else finding out.’
‘The question—’
‘There is something else.’ Yamanaka sat forward in his chair, wringing his hands together, as if trying to rub something off them. ‘You should know this. Before he left Paris, Mr Maxted showed me a name on a piece of paper written in Japanese.’
‘Farngold,’ said Sam.
‘Yes. Farngold. The name is mentioned here.’
‘In what connection?’ asked Morahan.
‘In 1889, Baron Tomura, as he was then, married an Englishwoman called Matilda Farngold. Her father, Claude Farngold, was a tea merchant in Yokohama. According to Commissioner Kuroda’s report—’
‘Hang on,’ Sam cut in. ‘Your boss told Max he’d never heard the name Farngold.’
‘I cannot explain that,’ said Yamanaka, who grimaced in embarrassment. ‘Perhaps an order from Marquess Saionji compelled him to keep silent. In his report, he says it was rumoured Mr Farngold gave his daughter to Tomura for the sake of business advantages. But he died in a warehouse fire soon afterwards, so there was no advantage. And Matilda died two years later of complications after giving birth to Tomura’s son.’
‘Noburo Tomura is half-English?’ exclaimed Morahan.
Yamanaka nodded. ‘Evidently.’
‘It’s a sad story,’ said Sam. ‘But why should it matter now?’
‘Because Matilda had a brother – John Farngold, known as Jack. Marquess Saionji asked Commissioner Kuroda to find for him as much information as he could about Jack Farngold following an incident in Keijo in December 1917.’
‘What kind of incident?’ asked Morahan.
‘Farngold made trouble of some kind at Count Tomura’s place of business in the city. There was a complaint to the police about him from the vice-president of the ODC. Farngold also made accusations against Count Tomura in an interview he gave to the Keijo Shinpo newspaper.’
‘What accusations?’
‘It is not clear. The interview was never published. Farngold was arrested shortly afterwards on the orders of Governor General Hasegawa and confined as a lunatic. He was later transferred to an asylum in Tokyo. Presumably, he is still there, though Commissioner Kuroda reports it is impossible to confirm his current whereabouts. He suggests Farngold may believe Count Tomura murdered his father. There was evidence of arson as the cause of the warehouse fire in which Claude Farngold died.’
‘He waited a hell of a time to do something about it, didn’t he?’
‘Yes. Nearly thirty years. Commissioner Kuroda comments on the strangeness of that. There is altogether much mystery about Mr Jack Farngold. Marquess Saionji suggests in his notes it is a mystery that may undo Count Tomura. “We should find out what it is,” he says.’
‘He doesn’t say how to, does he?’ asked Sam.
Yamanaka shook his head. ‘No. But Commissioner Kuroda may—’
He broke off, glancing apprehensively towards the hall. Someone had begun knocking at the door of the apartment.
Sam glanced anxiously at Morahan, who signalled them to keep silent and headed hurriedly out of the room.
‘Qui est-ce?’ they heard him call.
The muffled answer seemed to satisfy him. He opened the door. Craning his neck for a view, Sam saw the bobbing, bird-like figure of the concierge out on the landing.
She and Morahan conducted a whispered, urgent conversation in French, during which Morahan appeared to grow steadily more perturbed. Then, leaving her outside, he returned to the room, with a troubled look on his face.
‘Bad news, gentlemen,’ he announced. ‘Madame Berton reports half a dozen Japanese men are waiting for us out in the street. We can’t see them from this side of the building. One of them questioned her when she came back from shopping. Judging by her description, I’d say it was Noburo Tomura.’
Yamanaka was visibly shocked. ‘Tomura Noburo? Here?’
‘Seems so.’
‘But . . . how?’
‘I’d guess you were followed. They must’ve been keeping an eye on you as Kuroda’s right-hand man. Whoever did the following would have to be an expert, though. I spotted nothing. The other possibility is they somehow learnt my address and had a lookout posted who alerted them to our arrival. It doesn’t much matter which, does it? They’re here.’
‘What did Madame Berton tell them?’ asked Sam.
‘Nothing. But that
won’t have fooled them. I reckon Tomura’s capable of working out why we’d need the services of a Japanese speaker. If he suspects we have the document, he won’t let us leave with it.’
‘Then what do we do?’
‘You two wait here. I’m going downstairs with Madame Berton. She’ll let me use her telephone.’
‘Who are you going to call?’
Morahan smiled tightly. ‘The cavalry.’
WINIFRED, LADY MAXTED, was so relieved to find her brother alive and reasonably well she forgot at first to be angry with him. George was reminded of her bedside attention when he had contracted diphtheria as a young man. The danger of infection had not deterred her in the least. Indomitability had been part of her character since childhood.
She expected – and he supplied – a detailed account of what had happened to him, but he held back the nationality and name of the man responsible for his kidnapping because he knew she would be horrified and sparing his sister’s feelings had always figured highly among the principles George chose to live by.
‘The cylinder-seals probably are fakes, Win,’ he explained. ‘But that wasn’t why Soutine proved so elusive. He was in the secrets-selling game and the people who killed him badly want a secret back that he had his boy steal from them.’
‘This Arab youth, le Singe?’
‘He’s the one.’
‘And your friends, Mr Morahan and Mr Twentyman, are looking for him?’
‘They may already have found him. I expect they’ll do their best to keep me out of it from now on. I’m not safe on the streets of Paris, it seems.’
‘Your poor finger,’ said Winifred, caressing the wad of bandaging around the forefinger from which the nail had been pulled. ‘I’d never have asked you to come to Paris if I’d had the least idea such a thing would occur.’
‘Of course you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have agreed to come if I had either!’
‘Oh, I suspect you would. You’re over-protective of me, George, and you always have been.’
‘Rubbish.’
‘Now, these kidnappers. Are the police hopeful of catching them?’
The Corners of the Globe Page 26
