Dreaming Spies (23 page)

Haruki-san had said she was being educated for the family business—meaning all aspects of the family business.

“Two hundred eighty-four years ago, the head of my family was honoured to have a—” He paused again to consult. “A private audience with Her Majesty the Meisho Empress. My ancestor had been fortunate enough to overhear a plot against Her Majesty and take it to her advisors. They offered a reward, but my ancestor said he wished only one thing: a private audience with Her Majesty. Five minutes only. Everyone most surprised when Her Majesty, instead of having his head, laughed. Then granted his wish. The only other person present was a deaf bodyguard.

“My ancestor bowed to Empress. He thank her for the honour she was doing to his entire line. And he tell her that if ever she or one of her
descendants needed a man who could pass unseen and hear whispered secrets, she, or they, had only to send word.

“I do not suppose he thought anything would come of it. Like an elephant and an ant, Emperors are far too powerful to require the services of a small and unimportant clan of Samurai.

“But the Empress did remember. And somehow, she passed the word to her son, and he to his, that there is a family in Mojiro-joku waiting to serve. A family that looks near to peasants, but has useful skills. Perhaps once a generation, in the three centuries since then, a quiet message has been received, and a Sato is honoured to do a task for a Son—or Daughter—of Heaven.

“It is, for us, what you might call a sacred promise, that we might be there when needed. Not only be there, but be able. We train, that when we are called upon, we may serve.”

His broad face broke into a grin. “Crazy,
neh
? Three hundred years we play with our thumbs and wait for a message that may never come? On to now, a time of telephones and cameras and aeroplanes?”

He allowed silence to fall, so we could think about what he had told us. The charcoal in the fire whispered. Voices came from outside. Holmes stirred.

“It is not only your family, is it?”

“Our family is broad,” Sato-san replied.

“With ears in many places. Such as Bombay.”

“Some ears are family. Others are paid for. The English are not always as … circumspect, is that the word?”

“Yes.”

“—as circumspect as their superiors might wish. So.” He drained the last of his beer, and put the bottle down by his knee. “One winter day last year, message comes. His Highness the Prince Regent will visit my humble onsen. I first met His Highness many year ago, when he was a child. Five, maybe six. I was called to perform at a festival for Meiji Emperor, and Prince Hirohito there, he laugh at my tricks. After my accident, Meiji Emperor help—send doctors, little gifts. Four years later, Meiji Emperor die. His Majesty become Emperor, but little Prince still
remember his grandfather’s acrobat, old man with funny tricks. Prince grow up, send little gifts, too, even come here, two, three times. To see tricks—old man can still juggle, but you guess that, I think,
neh
?—but also likes waters. And talk. Hard for Son of Heaven to find someone just for talk.

“So. Message come last winter from Prince Regent, want to come for the baths. Roads bad, cold and rain, but he coming, so we fast-fast buy new tatami and beds. He take bath, have massage, eat my simple foods. Walk through hills. And on second morning, His Highness send for me. When he told guards to leave, I knew what was coming.

“Yes: he need my help. There was a book, very pretty, of poems and pictures. His Highness took it to the King of England as a gift. One crown to another,
neh
? Was in His Majesty’s private rooms, I guess. No one notice it gone, the Palace so full of beautiful things.

“But now—this is …” He paused to consult with his daughter.

“November.”

“November, last year. His Majesty get letters, many letters, but His Majesty not well, and His Highness doing more and more answers of letters. So here is one, it say, ‘Your Honoured Majesty, I have come into possession of a book of poetry by Matsuo Bashō, containing hidden truths, which I am offering to sell to you for so many English pounds.’ More words, but that is sense of it. His Highness first thinks, I must write the King of England and tell him someone has stolen his book. But then he see that ‘hidden truths.’ He wonder about that, and think, Maybe I go to my Honourable Father and ask if something I not know about this pretty book. His Majesty not well, you know this? Last four-five year, he has no official duties?”

Holmes and I assured him that we were aware of the erratic behaviour of the Emperor of Japan, who had once famously stood before the Japanese parliament, rolled up his speech, and held it to his eye like a spyglass. “England, too, has had rulers who were … unwell,” Holmes said.

“This just short time after earthquake. Two, three month,
neh
? Important that His Highness be in Tokyo, helping hard. It take some time before he can get free to see His Majesty. And when he does, His Majesty
ill. So His Highness think, I cannot ask my Honourable Father a thing that will disturb him. Instead, he talk, about this and about that. Childhood,
neh
? And he say, ‘We have so many beautiful things, so lucky to have. I remember one book, poems and pictures, in a case. Was anything very special about that book?’

“But Honourable Father His Majesty get very—” He paused for another consultation. “Very agitated. Wants to go looking immediately, go to Tokyo and see if the book safe. His Highness have to call in doctor to calm him. Pill, you know? But then sent doctor away again, and say to Honourable Father, book very safe, locked away in personal vault, fire not harm it, nobody possibly steal it, absolutely secure where it is. Much better to leave it there than to travel with it across the roads to show it to His Majesty,
neh
? And His Majesty agree, and feel less agitated—drugs,
neh
? But before he go to sleep, he tell His Highness a story about this book. About how Ninkō Emperor see the gift and think it a good place to hide away a document. Tempō era very filled with unrest, rebellion, famine. Only thirty, forty years after French revolters cut off King’s head. Dangerous to have a document like this that can be discovered. So hid it away inside the book.

“There it stay. Ninkō to Komei, Komei to Meiji, and now His Majesty. Hidden secrets, as letter say. I do not know what those secrets are. Not even sure if His Highness know—even His Majesty himself. All I know is, Emperor’s book first given by accident, then stolen. Have to get it back.”

“This letter,” Holmes said. “The one received in November. Who was it from?”

“English Lord Darley.”

“Really? Darley put his name to an open demand for ransom?”

“Ah, so—not open. Only say: here is book with hidden truths. You want it back? It for sale. Here how much.”

I spoke up. “Is it possible that Darley doesn’t know what the secret is, either? That he only heard a rumour about the book, indicating that the Emperor of Japan might not wish the thing to become public?”

“Possible,” Sato-san agreed. “But how he know?”

One tended not to criticise the ruling families of host countries, so neither Holmes nor I voiced aloud the main scenario that came to mind: that their somewhat erratic Emperor had carried on a conversation he should not have done, which was overheard by someone who sold secrets. Three years was plenty of time for that conversation to work its way to England, there to find a man who could figure out how to lay hands on a pretty artefact in a cluttered Palace.

“Letter say that this lord was coming to Japan, and he want to sell the book back to His Highness.

“Very, very fortunately, the Prince Regent knew how to find Sato clan. One week after talk with Honourable Emperor Father, His Highness permitted himself a visit to the baths of Mojiro-joku, to the onsen run by the old man whose tricks made him laugh as a child. A man his grandfather had helped after a fall ended his career as acrobat.

“And so, the Sato machine begins to turn. We have friends with ears in England, yes? They find the earl and his wife already left England, sailing here. Other friends find them in Bombay. I telegraph to my daughter: hurry to Bombay by any way she can, money no matter. We wait to hear: has she made it? Or will she go on to meet their ship later, in Singapore, Manila? While we wait, another word reaches us. Two other English travellers, also an older man and younger woman, are about to sail for America.

“I have heard, long ago, about these other two people. One has a brother in the British government. They interest me. If my daughter can make friends with them, they could be help. To delay them for a day, even three, is no great problem. And as it happens, my daughter does reach India in time to join the English lord and his wife.”

He shook his head ruefully. “Between bribes and aeroplanes, my daughter’s travel cost me more than raising my three children. However, my ancestor who asked the Meisho Empress for nothing but a private audience, two hundred and eighty-four years ago? He was given the money as well. Turned out good at investing.”

He smiled. After a time, Holmes spoke.

“It’s more than the money. You went to huge effort to bring us into
contact with your daughter. She spent weeks drilling us in Japanese language and customs. At the end of it, you arranged for His Highness the Prince Regent to tell us himself that you are to be trusted. So, what is it you want of us?”

Our host leant back like a fisherman who’s just managed to hook a wily trout. He shot a quick glance at Haruki-san, eyes sparkling.

“My daughter will tell you, sometimes I tell her to do a thing that seems strange, then later say, ‘an exercise.’ Perhaps this an exercise for her. Perhaps is to sharpen a tool, for use one day. Or perhaps,” he said more deliberately, “old Sato-san look into his future. Perhaps he see that there will come a day when my country and yours need a private friend behind a public face.”

Slowly, Holmes nodded. “The tides of international pressures being as they are.”

“American law against Japanese immigration, plus our earthquake stopping most Western visitors, together make for a perilous time. Time for thoughts of isolation and resentment. And if it comes to choice, England will choose America, not Asia.”

I thought it was time to bring things down a bit closer to earth. “All that is far off, and the future can change a dozen times. Today, in this village, your English guests want to know: why are we here?”

He gave Holmes a wide grin. “Your wife is a fine woman, Mistah Holmès.”

“She has a knack for getting to the point,” Holmes agreed.

Sato-san turned his sparkling eyes on me. “A party, Miss Lussell. I wish you to go to a party.”

Something told me I was not going to like this. I sighed. “You’d better call me Mary.”

Sleek black too-large car

Slips down the ancient post road
.

Time to speak of death
.

The party would not be Sato-san’s affair. It was to be hosted by Lord and Lady Darley, on behalf of the friend’s porcelain-ware company that the earl had agreed to represent, with a guest list that included the highest-ranking financiers and aristocrats in the country—and the Prince Regent. It was the sort of thing that Prince Hirohito would find difficult to attend once the golden bars of the Emperor’s Palace rose up around him, but as Prince Regent, he still had a degree of freedom, to attend the theatre, travel for a soak at his favourite hot springs along the Kisokaido, or stand with a drink in his hand while Westerners vied for his attention.

There would be few Japanese there. Even many of the servants would be British, since the event was intended to be a showcase of the best England had to offer, down to the gloved hands on the silver trays. It would, Sato-san declared, be little problem for two English people to obtain invitations, particularly when they had shared a recent voyage with the host. Western visitors were thin on the ground, these days.

“And you believe Lord Darley intends to exchange his stolen object at this soirée?” Holmes asked.

“His Highness has been … instructed to bring money.” Sato-san’s genial features turned stony at the thought of a foreigner issuing instructions to Japan’s Prince Regent. “Bearer bond,’ ” he spat.

“For how much?”

“Twenty thousand pound sterling.”

The number dropped into the room and sat there for a while. On the one hand, it was a considerable sum for a picture book, even one with its unique provenance. On the other, if one accepted that the future of the Emperor—if not the Empire—rested on it …

“One does wonder if Darley knows just what he has,” Holmes mused.

“I only care that the English lord has the book.”

“And I suppose there is no plan to have him arrested afterwards?”

Sato-san left it to his daughter to reply. “There can be no question of scandal touching His Highness,” Haruki-san said.

“Particularly,” I ventured, “since questions would be asked regarding the book itself.”

“Is shameful enough that His Highness will have contact with this man.”