Embassy Row

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “Not specifically, just that it would cause utmost humiliation to the Japanese. He said that shame was something they understood. He hoped they would have to kill themselves out of disgrace. He told me that the Japanese do that.” Her cheeks were rosier, but more from chagrin than the ending of shock.

  “So they do,” said Holmes.

  I began to wonder if the choice of murder weapon was significant, after all. I would have to mention my thoughts to Mycroft Holmes when he had finished this first interview with Lady Brackenheath.

  Just then the door to the White Salon was flung open and Prince Jiro hurried in. He paused on the threshold just long enough to take stock of the situation, then approached Lady Brackenheath, one hand held out to her. “I have only just been informed. How truly awful for you. I am so very sorry that this has happened. Please accept my most heartfelt condolences.” It was a most acceptable little speech, and I thought he gave it well. Many Englishmen would not manage to convey sympathy so properly.

  She took his proffered hand and did her best to smile. “Thank you, your Highness. I am . . . most grateful for your consideration.”

  “It is the least I can do. Pray accept my expression of dismay on behalf of my father and all the people of the Empire of Japan.” Again he bowed to her.

  Holmes gave a soft, diplomatic cough. “It is an unwelcome turn of events.”

  “At the least. It is the most alarming thing. To think that a man was killed here tonight, while we were all celebrating the ratification of our agreement. It is enough to make me shudder.” Prince Jiro looked over at Holmes. “The Prime Minister has departed. It was quietly done.”

  “So I am aware,” said Holmes, apparently unperturbed by this interruption.

  “Yes,” said Prince Jiro, as if something had been settled. He gave his attention to Lady Brackenheath once more. “Ambassador Tochigi asked me if you would permit him to offer you his regrets for this tragedy tonight, or would you prefer he make a mourning call upon you tomorrow or the day after.”

  Now Lady Brackenheath was becoming flustered. “I think it might be better if he call on me before the . . . police begin their inquiries. The sooner it is done, the less significance will be assigned to it. And it would, I think, occasion less comment than a more private visit might, given my husband’s sentiments.” She held her handkerchief to her eyes, but it was not adequate to the task, being a confection of Belgium lace.

  Prince Jiro whipped a silken square with the royal chrysanthemum mon embroidered at the corner out of his pocket and held it out to her. “Pray take it, Lady Brackenheath. I would do more if propriety would countenance it.”

  She took the silk from him. “Oh, thank you, Yukio,” she said almost shyly. Then she became more formal. “You have been most kind, Highness, for coming to me at this difficult time.”

  There was a quality in his smile I had not seen before, a regard that was more than kindness, and more than admiration. I watched them closely while disguising my surveillance. The numbness of the last hour continued to fade from my mind, and my concentration faltered as I recalled with unexpected vividness the appearance of Lord Brackenheath’s body when I had first ·come upon it. Already that seemed to have been a distant event, though it was also more real than the pristine appearance of this room.

  “I will not apologize for interrupting you, Mister Holmes, for that would imply I feel I have acted inappropriately, and I have not. This is the very least courtesy I could show Lady Brackenheath in this terrible hour.” He bowed slightly to Holmes. “If there is anything I may do to aid your investigations, you must inform me of it at once.” He gave a crisp salute and left the room in good form.

  Lady Brackenheath held the silk to her eyes, her weeping renewed. “So good of him to . . . to do this.”

  This obscure statement did not trouble Mycroft Holmes, who nodded once. “Let us hope that all Lord Brackenheath’s friends and associates are as gracious in their sympathy.” He sighed. “I must assume that it is now generally known that Lord Brackenheath is dead. Which will mean that speculation will be rife within the hour.” He rose and held out his hand to Lady Brackenheath. “You will receive proper escort to your home, of course. I trust you will be prepared to receive me there in the afternoon?”

  She looked puzzled, but did her best to gather her thoughts. “Yes. If it will aid you in your investigation, I will have you admitted at any hour, so long as it brings Lord Brackenheath’s murderer to his deserved end.” She rose, her movement more awkward than before, but still lovely.

  On impulse, I went to the door and Iistened. “There are people coming down the corridor.”

  Holmes sighed. “I would suppose it is Ambassador Tochigi, come to offer his sympathy. Lady Brackenheath, it may be difficult, but I would be most truly grateful if you were willing to receive him.”

  “I suppose it must be done,” she said quietly, her hands now folded in her lap like a’ schoolgirl’s. I had not realized until then what a blow this must be to a very young woman to be made a widow in this dreadful manner. Burdens now fell upon her unprepared shoulders that I could only imagine. “If it is the Japanese ambassador, I will see him. If it is the Swiss ambassador, I will see him. If it is one of the English, ask if they will call on me in the morning. I will be at home to condolence visits then.”

  I glanced out the door and saw Messrs. Banadaichi and. Minato waiting patiently. Both of them bowed as I opened the door. “Is Ambassador Tochigi with you?”

  “Yes, he is,” said Mister Minato.

  “Lady Brackenheath will see him,” I said. “She is very upset.”

  “Hai, “said Mister Banadaichi, and moved aside to permit the ambassador to enter the White Salon.

  I stood aside at the door, and watched Ambassador Tochigi approach Lady Brackenheath. When he was about eight feet away from her, he bowed very deeply, straining his superb kimono to the limits of its belts and seams. “I am profoundly sorry to learn of your husband’s death, Lady Brackenheath.”

  She nodded to him, making a compromise courtesy of the movement. “It is kind of you to say so, Ambassador.”

  “I hope that the perpetrator of this terrible act will be apprehended swiftly and brought to justice without delay.” He regarded Holmes steadily. “If there is any way in which we may assist your investigation, it would be our honor to participate.”

  “I will inform Inspector FitzGerald of your offer,” said Holmes in the best of good form. “He is the one who will be conducting the inquiries in relation to this crime.”

  “If you say so.” Ambassador Tochigi set his smile with respectful doubt. “My assistants and I are at your disposal.”

  Holmes sighed once. “I thank you.”

  “I will inform the Emperor at once about this sad affair.” He bowed once more to Lady Brackenheath. “Believe me, my lady, to be appalled at the disaster that has befallen your husband.”

  “I believe you,” said Lady Brackenheath in an undervoice. “And I appreciate your kindness in coming here.”

  Ambassador Tochigi cocked his head at her. “Forgive me for asking, but I must suppose you are not as much opposed to the agreement we ratified tonight as your husband was?” His surprise was as much because he was astonished that a wife might disagree with her husband as because she had been as cordial to him as she had. “Is that not most . . . unusual?”

  “My father built his fortune on trade, Ambassador. In the course of his business, he gained a high regard for the peoples of the Orient, one which he taught me to share. My marriage did not change my understanding. My husband and I disagreed about many things, as is often the case with arrangements such as ours.” She dabbed at her eyes with the Prince’s handkerchief.

  I saw a flicker of recognition in Ambassador Tochigi’s eyes as he took note of the imperial chrysanthemum embroidered on the silk. He recovered quickly enough, but I was keenly aware that he had been shocked by what he had seen. I made a mental note to report my observation to my employer a
t our first private opportunity.

  Holmes was speaking now, addressing Ambassador Tochigi as he made his way to the door of the White Salon. “I will take it upon myself, Ambassador Tochigi, to keep you informed of the progress of the investigation into the death of Lord Brackenheath. In the meantime, you may assure your Emperor that our government will stand by the terms of our agreement in spite of these developments.”

  Ambassador Tochigi bowed again, not nearly so deeply as he had to Lady Brackenheath. “Thank you for that courtesy, Mister Holmes. It will be welcome news in this sad time.”

  Lady Brackenheath gave Holmes a sudden look of distress. “This will not bring embarrassment to the Japanese, will it? Nothing so damaging that the negotiations would fail because of it?” She saw the expression in Holmes’ eyes and said, “Oh, do not misunderstand me, Mister Holmes, I would not want my husband’s murder to go unpunished, but I do not want to see our government placed at a disadvantage, nor do I want the Japanese to be made a scapegoat for his death. The wrong man in the noose would not satisfy honor or the letter of the law. It is only that I would be ashamed to think that Lord Brackenheath’s death was the excuse used to permit this agreement to be abrogated.” She sat much straighter now, and her lovely head was as calm as if it had been cut in marble. “If I may do anything to prevent a miscarriage of justice, you may be certain I will do it.”

  I could see that almost everyone in the White Salon believed her. The single exception was Ambassador Tochigi himself.

  FROM THE JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS

  It has passed midnight and M H has not yet returned, nor G, and there have been no more messages. Sutton and I have spent the last hour playing whist, and sipping cognac, but neither of us has paid much attention to our cards and the drink has not offered its usual soothing balsam to our senses. I am waiting some word that will allow me to know how best to proceed

  Were I not concerned that this might not cause more difficulties than our present ones, I would send word around to Baker Street, in the hope that something might be learned from that quarter. However, without M H’s specific instructions, I hesitate to take such an action upon myself. I will watch with Sutton another hour and then consider once again what is best to do.

  THE SILENCE IN Lady Brackenheath’s carriage was broken only by the steady sound of the horses’ hooves and the rumble of the wheels as we made our way through vacant streets toward the Brackenheath town house.

  “It was very kind of Mister Holmes to spare you for this errand; I fear we cannot expect my cousin Mrs. Collington much before four in the morning. She is very willing to answer late night summons, but rousing a household, as such missives do, is another matter,” said Lady Brackenheath after about five minutes of spying into a place some three feet beyond the vehicle. I had begun to wonder if our journey would be without any conversation whatsoever. “Wilcox or one of the undercoachmen will take you to your home when you have finished seeing me within doors and are satisfied as to my safety. That is your task, isn’t it?”

  “I am willing to wait for your cousin,” I offered. “You should not be alone tonight, Lady Brackenheath.” As soon as I spoke, I realized how inappropriate I sounded, and I resolved to make amends. “Pray have no misapprehension regarding my motives, Ma’am, but you have endured a great shock and—”

  “Mister Guthrie, I have a houseful of servants, so I will not be alone.” She went on as if compelled to make up for her earlier silence. “And as to the shock, in the order of things in nature, I have long supposed Lord Brackenheath would predecease me. I have been prepared for this since the day of our wedding, though I had not imagined he would die by violence.’”

  I found these politely voiced phrases mildly off-putting, though I was aware they were the product of an evening of shock, and wished I could find a way to tell her so without giving her offense. “That’s kind of you; I am willing to make other arrangements to reach my rooms.”

  To my surprise she laughed; the sound was soft and delicate and lacking all artifice. “Such an absurd notion, Mister Guthrie. I would have thought better of Mister Holmes’ secretary. It is now what?—two in the morning, more or less? And you are in London on crutches. What odds will you take on your reaching home without mishap if my coachman does not take you? The only reasonable course is to permit me to provide you adequate transportation. It is not safe on the streets at this hour, no matter how carefully one goes.”

  The words did not come easily but I had to concede she had a point. “True enough,” I said to her. “But in your circumstances, you need not trouble yourself—”

  She made a quick and impatient gesture. “Then you will permit me to provide you this carriage, or something smaller if Wilcox recommends it. This is the least I can do, for you have been more than kind to me. And I am certain that Mister Holmes expects some such effort on my part. I cannot think he would like to have you wandering the streets alone at this hour, with or without crutches.” She did not quite smile, but the habit of good conduct showed.

  “What can I be but grateful, Lady Brackenheath?” I responded, hoping to show my appreciation without any more untoward remarks.

  She put her hand to her eyes briefly. “I have so little I can do. My husband is dead, and his death may cause more trouble than anyone anticipated, yet I am helpless to change any part of that. I am at the mercy of events. That troubles me more than all the rest. What I dislike most is the prospect of having to mourn the man for a year, or risk social ostracism, and to spend that year having all my friends hover about me telling me how unfortunate I am to lose him. If I must be a widow, why not now, while I have some years which might bring me happiness? For surely, he never did.” I must have revealed some of my dismay in my expression, for she went on. “You knew it was no love match, of course. No one was so foolish as to think that. All the world knew the purpose. Lord Brackenheath needed money and my father wanted advancement. I was the means to seal the agreement, much as that document you all extolled this evening seals England and Japan in mutual support. Fortunately for the parchment, it has no emotions in regard to what is written upon it. I represented the binding nature of their agreement. My husband and my father were both satisfied with their . . . um, treaty. And I was more biddable in those days, for I thought my father and my husband had some concern for my welfare. Time has shown me I was in error.” Then she lowered her hand and made herself calm once more. I found it difficult to think of her as a young woman, for her composure I would have expected of someone much older than she. “My spasm of self-pity is over, Mister Guthrie. I pray you will make allowances for it; The hour and the shock have loosened my tongue; be good enough to judge what I say in that light.”

  “Most certainly, Lady Brackenheath,” I assured her, admiring her courage tremendously even as I fought a sense of condemnation of her motives.

  “If my husband’s living children were legitimate, I suppose I would now be the Dowager Lady Brackenheath, or some such nonsense. A dowager before I am thirty. I would not be the first, of course. Not that those bars sinister of his would recognize me in that capacity if they had the right to do so.” She was giving her best effort to restore a lightness to our talking, but not with much success.

  “You mean he has . . .” I fumbled for the word and regretted the question in the same breath. “I do not mean to . . .”

  She supplied it for me. “Bastards? Oh, yes, a number of them. Three sons that I know of, and two daughters. There may well be more, he was not a man to be concerned in such matters. He rarely took any interest in them beyond providing for their maintenance, and that only because it would be considered wrong not to support them while they were children. Most were shipped off to Canada and America years ago, when they were of age to go, with an allowance to make the change easier. I understand one of them has been very successful in Virginia. He arrived at the end of their Civil War, a lad no more than sixteen years old, and profited from trade in household goods. He now owns an emporium and a
number of shops. The others are younger and have not yet made their mark on the world, or so I have been told often and often. None of Lord Brackenheath’s children were sent to Australia, of course,” she added with some bitterness. “They would have been forced to mix with the dregs of society there, or so my husband often stated. He did not object to having these children himself, but he deplored others who did.” She smiled; her mouth looked brittle. “I believe a small portion of my husband’s estate has been set aside for these grown children. It is not a large amount, of course, as Lord Brackenheath was of a profligate nature and had little of his original fortune left when we married, or he would not have had to stoop to taking a manufactory’s owner’s daughter to wife.” She stopped abruptly. “Dear me. What you must be thinking. I am becoming a rattle.”

  “Nothing of the sort; you are in need of someone willing to listen, which I am,” I told her, pleased to have this news of how things stood in the family. Mycroft Holmes would want to know all this as soon as possible. I found my conscience was not entirely at ease, for I reckoned Lady Brackenheath must suppose she was speaking in confidence, yet I had an obligation to my employer that must supersede gallantry.

  We were almost to her town house, and I saw that lamps flanking her door were still lit against her arrival, though all but two of the windows were dark. It was a handsome house, originally built at the time of Queen Anne and kept magnificently ever since, with a conservatory added to the ground floor in the last twenty years. Ordinarily it would be an establishment any woman would regard as the most welcome haven. Lady Brackenheath eyed it with a look that bordered on disgust. She sighed once. “I thank you for your courtesy, Mister Guthrie. I will be grateful of your kindness extending itself to keeping me company for a few minutes.”

  “Of course,” I said, adding, “I hope your cousin will have received your note by now and will be with you presently.”