The Collected Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in Japan (13 page)

BOOK: The Collected Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in Japan
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In entered Omitsu, again carrying a tray.

‘Good morning,’ she greeted. ‘Holmes-
san
requested that you be allowed to rest, when he left earlier.’

‘Well, I am awake now,’ I returned, as the tray bearing white rice,
miso
soup and a delicious-looking piece of fish was handed to me.

Omitsu knelt down beside my
futon
, her strangely large eyes again staring into mine, so that I at once felt my throat growing tight. I was truly captivated by this delicate
geisha
, now clad in a
kimono
of dark green trimmed with gold). And yet there was a strange scent about her; some faintly metallic smell that was at once slightly repulsive and also somehow –

Thrilling
.

 

…I passed into a strange, dreamlike existence. Perhaps I now even inhabited the
geisha
’s shadowy world known as
Karyukai
– the ‘flower and willow’ world.

Certainly I cared for nothing except Omitsu’s presence…

 

…And then sometime later (how much later?) Holmes was back in the room, and Omitsu was gone.

‘A bad business,’ muttered Holmes, shaking his head. ‘I have visited several of the places where people – young women, usually – have been discovered dead in the morning, all of the corpses allegedly with this bite mark upon their necks, the blood completely drained from their bodies…’

‘Really?’ I uttered.

‘Interesting to note, Yoshida-
sensei
, that the rooms in which these victims have been found dead are all sited on the first floor, or else – if on the second or even third – are easily accessible from the street or alleyway outside, the intruder being able to climb up on walls, low sloping roofs and suchlike.

‘So, we can cast aside any notion of some supernatural, levitating killer, at least.’

At this, I turned to face Holmes.

‘You surely didn’t believe in such a thing in the first place, Holmes-
san
,’ I said.

Holmes stared back at me, his expression unreadable.

‘I never discount anything, Yoshida-
sensei
, until it can be entirely disproved. But still…
something
attacked these people, once darkness had descended, taking their blood without them making a murmur and then fleeing without anyone seeing a thing… Until that merchant happened to blunder in, that is…’

‘And now, Holmes-
san
,’ I said, ‘with it being autumn, so soon becoming dark in the evening, and so foggy…’

‘This killer will strike again, and again, until – until
they
are stopped,’ commented my Holmes. ‘But there seems to be no
pattern
as to where they will strike, only the certainty that those people occupying rooms by themselves, with windows easily accessible from the street, are most at risk. As such, a number of such rooms are now lying empty, people instead choosing to share with others as a way of obtaining some measure of security.

‘Really, beyond further promulgating this somewhat obvious advice to those people who live and work in this town’s pleasure quarter, I – for the moment – have no other idea how to proceed with this investigation,’ declared Holmes, somewhat ruefully.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘I have now to go and talk with Iwasaki – to basically repeat what I have just told you… But, in any case, how is your ankle, Yoshida-
sensei
?’

‘It is healing, Holmes-
san
,’ I mumbled, again turning so that I faced the wall. ‘I just find myself so tired…’

‘It is evening anyway,’ declared Holmes, as I heard him stand. ‘You rest now; I will return in a while…’

But I was conscious only of that fierce desire to be with Omitsu again; and smell that strange scent about her, the one that somehow caused my very senses to reel…

I was bewitched, I realized vaguely – bewitched by this beautiful young
geisha
– and I did not care in the slightest...

 

4

 

The days and nights all melted together, Omitsu and Holmes never in this dimly-lit room at the same time. Vaguely I sensed that my ankle was getting better, and this almost alarmed me.

Alarmed me because soon I would be able to walk again, and already Holmes was talking as though this was one of those occasional cases he would be unable to solve. As such, we would be obliged to leave this large teahouse which had (as I now knew) Iwasaki, Omitsu and four other
geisha
working – and living – within it.

Holmes said something concerning this teahouse, and those other teahouses in this neighborhood, still doing only limited business. But most evenings I heard noise coming from one of the rooms downstairs – laughter, singing and so forth – and so I assumed that the six
geisha
here had at least some customers to entertain.

But, really, I cared nothing for any of this. I only waited for Omitsu to come bearing that tray (always this happened while Holmes was out) – and then…

Well…

But it was as I was shaving one day that I felt a sudden thrill of something almost like
terror
. For my hand had slipped, and I had cut myself. I wiped the slight wound with my fingers – and then caught the faintly
metallic
tang of my own blood…

In a flash, I realized that it was
this
I had smelt (if only faintly) about Omitsu. I had smelt
blood
on her skin. My senses reeled, and for a moment I almost passed out.

I’d been… who knew how many days in this dimly-lit room, Holmes conducting his investigations during the day, leaving early in the morning (commonly before I was even awake, for I had become very sluggish) and returning late in the evening, when I was already beginning to drift off to sleep…

I found my blood-stained fingers now creeping up slowly to my neck, feeling either side of it, as though searching for…

This was absurd! Yet I felt… fear, there in my very guts. Yet still also that consuming desire for the
geisha
who visited me in this gloomy room, the shutter always drawn across the window…

‘Yoshida-
sensei
…’

I started – Omitsu was standing just behind me; I had not even heard her knock and then enter, so deep had I been in my thoughts. Her large, doleful eyes fastened on my cheek, which was bleeding…

‘You have cut yourself,’ she observed, her voice now like an autumn wind blowing through a pile of crisp, dead leaves.

‘It is nothing,’ I replied, trying to keep my own voice steady…

‘You are leaving tomorrow.’

The words came as a statement.

‘What – what do you mean?’ I stammered in reply.

‘The foreigner you accompany, Sherlock Holmes, told my mistress; that is, Iwasaki-
san
. He can find no answer to – well, you know to what. So he, and thus you, are leaving first thing tomorrow morning.’

My very
mind
was failing me. Now, I seemed to recall Holmes himself having said something like this, as I’d lain there half-asleep. No longer was I even certain where wakefulness ended, and dreams began…

‘So if your ankle can stand it, Yoshida-
sensei
, please come with me,’ said Omitsu then. ‘We have prepared some small celebration for you and Holmes-
san
in a room downstairs – our way of showing our gratitude for the Englishman’s help.’

‘But he has failed you,’ I mumbled, staring deeply into Omitsu’s eyes. ‘He does not know who –’

‘He tried,’ murmured Omitsu. ‘But please, come.’

I could now walk almost without a limp, although my ankle still hurt slightly. So walking downstairs unaided, to this room where it seemed all the
geisha
of this teahouse were waiting, would not present me with any difficulty.

‘Holmes-
san
is in this room also?’ I asked as I began to follow Omitsu, the cut on my cheek having stopped bleeding.

‘He is currently out, but no doubt he will return soon,’ declared the
geisha
who was now facing away from me, the nape of her neck again showing so provocatively.

‘We can begin without him, anyway,’ she said then, as we left the dimly-lit room and walked towards the even darker staircase, the plaintive sound of a
shamisen
being plucked coming from the floor below.

And all of a sudden (
why?
) I was terrified – more scared than I believe I have ever been before in my life.

And yet there was no choice except for to follow Omitsu.     

 

The
tatami
room was large, and only semi-illuminated by the several oil lamps flickering in its corners. There was the usual low table bearing food and drink, beside it a number of cushions, obviously intended for Holmes, me and the
geisha
to sit upon.

As for the
geisha…
they all seemed to be present in this room. Even the ‘older sister’, Iwaki. Omitsu ushered me inside and then closed the large sliding door.

‘Come,’ said Iwasaki, motioning at one of the cushions near the centre of the low table. ‘Please, sit.’

I obeyed, but almost hesitantly, for there was a tone to Iwasaki’s voice I did not care for in the slightest. It was like…
ice
, I thought strangely.

The eyes of the other
geisha
all followed me, as I walked across the room and sat down. Then they moved so gracefully over to me, that it was almost as though they were
floating
– that there were in fact no feet at all beneath the bottoms of those splendid
kimono
, which were obviously worn only when there were paying guests in this opulent teahouse.

These
geisha
surrounded me, filling a plate with food and pouring me a large cup of
sake.
This I sipped, at once feeling more relaxed. But then I noticed that Iwasaki was keeping herself somewhat removed from this little group – an indication of her superior rank, perhaps.

‘You have enjoyed… Omitsu?’ giggled one of the
geisha
, again with her face whitened and her teeth blackened. I stared at her, her face seeming to suddenly
balloon
slightly, there in the dimly-lit room.

‘What do you mean?’ I rasped, for some reason finding it slightly difficult to move my tongue.

‘You have had her… or has she had
you?
’ said another
geisha
, giving a cackle of laughter which this time made my blood run cold. I made to stand up, but my limbs were useless – as powerless as a newborn babe’s.

‘What is… what is this…?’ I just about managed to stammer. Four of the
geisha
crowded around me – Omitsu included – quickly got hold of my arms and legs. As powerless as my limbs were, they were now also restrained. The fifth
geisha
scuttled behind me, placing her hands either side of my head, as though to hold it in position.

I tried desperately to move, but it was hopeless. Through a dazed fog, I realized that it was only these
geisha
who were keeping me in an upright position in the first place.

And Iwasaki, her cold eyes gleaming at me in the gloom that seemed only to be intensifying, reached inside her
kimono
with one hand and produced what I took to be a key.

Yes – it certainly
was
a key, for she stuck this in one of the cupboards sited along one wall and gave it a turn. A door opened, and Iwasaki reached inside with both hands and produced…

A metal flask, almost waist-height, as wide as a human torso and covered with designs of snakes. That is, these snakes were wrought from the metal itself; there were many of them, all intertwined. They had been colored, once, but such colors had long since all but faded away; something which lent this unusually large flask a certain impression of age.

…Iwasaki pulled this flask towards me, her eyes still shining.

‘It is not so heavy, this thing,’ she said. ‘So we were able to carry it around with us, when we were… searching…

‘Only when it was full, it thus became much…
heavier
… Though two of us could then still carry it…’

‘What are you saying?’ I said thickly, my very
tongue feeling as though it was all but paralyzed.

‘Poor doctor…’ continued Iwasaki, her eyes almost now seeming to shine yellow. ‘Dragged around Japan these recent months by your
gaijin
friend, writing your little tales of adventure together…

‘Well, I’m afraid such adventures end
here
… This is one case you’ll never get to write about…’

With this, the ‘older sister’ of these accursed
geisha
pulled at the ‘head’ of one of the wrought-metal snakes – and it detached from the flask! A pipe extended out… Iwasaki raised this head attached to the pipe up to one side of my neck… I noticed that the mouth of this snake now had two sharp ‘teeth’ exposed…

‘All we do is to place these teeth into a certain vein on your neck,’ said Iwasaki softly, ‘and wait for the flask to…
fill
…’


Omitsu!
’ I heard myself cry out, as though this
geisha
– my
companion
, as it were, of recent days – who was helping to restrain me, might suddenly change her mind and come to my assistance.

Instead, she whispered into my ear –

‘I was silly, Yoshida-
sensei
… I made a mistake. I pulled the snake’s teeth out of that girl’s neck too quickly, the last time. So a little blood splashed out, onto the lower part of my face. And I had only just climbed out of the window, standing there on a low roof, when the merchant entered and saw me!’

At this, Omitsu laughed – a sound which chilled my very blood.

‘Poor doctor,’ she then continued. ‘Goodbye, my love – I did enjoy our… time together…’

‘We expect your
friend
back shortly,’ declared Iwasaki contemptuously, those two sharp teeth now just an inch away from the right-hand side of my neck. ‘He has been blundering around, searching for clues concerning this mysterious
killer
– when all the time, it lay right here in this teahouse! Soon the great Sherlock Holmes will realize that he has finally met his match – in me.’

‘But… why…?’ I croaked, my sight steadily growing dimmer. I was passing into unconscious, I realized.

That
sake…
Perhaps the other victims had been similarly drugged…   

‘Oh doctor,’ whispered Omitsu in my ear. ‘Don’t concern yourself with such trivial details, please. This is one case you won’t have to chase to its tedious conclusion, after all…’

‘Your fool of a friend will soon return, unsuspecting, and we will deal with him then,’ said Iwasaki, and I closed my eyes and
shuddered
as those teeth began pressing against my skin…

There was at once a violent
crashing
sound, the sliding doors of this room being broken inwards. My eyes again flew open, at the same moment as the
geisha
fell away from me, shrieking with outrage at this intrusion.

It was Holmes, either side of him standing two soldiers (not
samurai
, as some western writers still erroneously claim, for these have been abolished under the recent reformations sweeping Japan), their right hands gripping the hilt of their swords.

‘There,’ said Holmes, pointing at the vessel with the snakes upon it, those eyes above his high cheekbones burning. ‘
There
is your vampire, which collects the blood these
geisha
believe they require – which they believe keeps them looking young…’

With the
geisha
no longer holding my drugged, weakened body, I had slumped onto one side. And with these horrific words of Holmes’s sounding in my ears, I finally slipped into unconsciousness…  

 

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