Old Scores--A Barker & Llewelyn Novel

by Will Thomas

  “He’s already been up to Sheffield, placing orders. He’ll want anything and everything we can offer him. He’s trying to turn a feudal country into a modern civilization single-handed, and to make the best deals. He’s as shrewd as a Scotsman, and this from a Scotsman.”

  “Would either have been able to accomplish this with Toda alive?”

  I noticed Forbes took the thinnest slice for himself and began picking at it. Forbes had consumption. His lungs were swimming in liquid. His constant fight with the disease left him with little appetite. “He’s a friend of yours,” I told myself, “and he’s going to die one of these days, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.”

  “I believe Toda would have exercised caution and restraint,” he said, moving the food around on his plate.

  “So, with him dead, there is no one to stop either group from making decisions. Is it possible they are each spending the same money?”

  “That I couldn’t tell you, but it’s been done before.”

  “Does everyone in Parliament agree this is a good thing? The arrival of the Japanese, I mean?”

  “No, not everyone. Lord Granville was quite outspoken on the floor of the House of Lords this week. He said you cannot put a savage in a Savile Row suit and expect him to behave like a gentleman. Granville is a xenophobe of the first order, but some of the decisions of their military, the punishment of prisoners, for example, have been barbaric by our standards. They have been in isolation for hundreds of years in feudal conditions, doing things the exact same way until it has become ingrained in their psyche. Now suddenly, they must act like Westerners or perish.”

  “What is the mood of Her Majesty’s government regarding the Japanese?”

  “They were cautiously optimistic until Toda’s murder. Now the idea is, ‘Well, what would you expect?’ I’m sure the Palace wishes the delegates would have the good manners to go away now and put their house in order. Come back in a few years. However, both parties are full steam ahead, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s enough for me,” I said, putting down my pint and pushing myself away from the table. My trouser band was pressing against my stomach. The Cheshire Cheese was dangerous. If I came here too often, I’d be as fat as old Samuel Johnson. I could just picture myself moribund, puffing after a suspect.

  Barker stood. “Thank you, Pollock. Is there anything I can do for the organization?”

  “Just grease the wheels, Cyrus.”

  “As always. You’ve given me much to think about.”

  Cyrus Barker and Pollock Forbes fought over the bill and Forbes won, but not without a struggle. Aside from being a barrister and the leader of the secret society, Forbes was also laird of his clan, and while Barker was not a member of it, he expected no nonsense about who pays what from a mere commoner. The Guv would be certain to pay next time and to overpay the tip while he was at it. I didn’t actually see Forbes pay. I assumed he had some kind of account at the Cheshire Cheese.

  We parted in the street and Forbes shook hands all around. I put my finger and thumb in my mouth and whistled for a cab. If the weather is good, one could hear me a dozen streets away. A couple of minutes later one came trundling around the corner and pulled up in front of us. We clambered aboard and sat back and were soon on our way.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It must be fun dangling an assistant on a hook all the time. I gave my employer a look which meant “I want to know where we’re going, but I’m damned if I’m going to ask.” Finally, he took pity on me.

  “We’re going to the embassy again. Now that we know better how things stand there, I want to question the general more closely.”

  Lord Diosy’s residence looked very different by day. The exterior of the building was the color of yellow cream, the roofing of red tile. The gate which had been so imposing the first time I had seen it was wide open now and there was nobody to stop us entering. I wondered if Dunn would still be there, ordering his subordinates about.

  “Do you suppose His Lordship is charging the embassy rent on his fine home? And what do you think he is doing at his club in Pall Mall?”

  “I doubt Diosy is charging them anything. He’s wealthy by anyone’s standards. As I understand, he has been encouraging the Japanese to return here after their last European tour several years ago. He is forming a Japanese society here.”

  The door was answered by different bodyguards from the ones we had seen before, but all wore identical suits and low-crowned bowler hats as if it were a livery: cutaway coats over matching black waistcoasts, high collars with blue ties, and checked trousers. Gaitered shoes completed their ensembles. With Toda gone, no one I saw was dressed in their country’s traditional kimono and obi. They were trying very hard to fit in among these Western barbarians.

  We were led to see the general. He was seated at a desk in a modern suit with a calligraphy brush in his hand, perhaps writing an account of the ambassador’s death for the emperor. He looked up at Barker without speaking.

  “I have some more questions for you, sir,” the Guv said.

  Mononobe lifted a palm toward the chairs in front of the desk. I had seen Barker make such a gesture earlier. We sat and I waited for the Guv to begin.

  “Where were you at the time Ambassador Toda was killed, General?”

  “We were downstairs in the dining hall,” he answered. “We needed to decide what our individual itineraries would be. There was so little time and so much that commanded our attention.”

  “I see,” Barker said.

  “We decided to forgo some of the ceremonies. We saw no reason to attend sporting events, for example. There were better uses for our time.”

  “Were all the ministers present?”

  The general looked at us, considering his answer. “They were. Most of the time, anyway. It was a formal meal, but we had much to discuss.”

  “What do you mean, most of the time, if I may ask, General?”

  “We were receiving telephone calls from our various appointments, wishing to verify if we would come. We went and returned.”

  “So, at least once during the dinner, each of you left the room?”

  “I did not. It was my meeting and I wanted all of us to decide what to do.”

  “Why were you in charge? Where was the ambassador?”

  “Upstairs. He was not feeling well. He was nearly seventy.”

  “Did you hear the shot?”

  “No, Mr. Barker, I didn’t. None of us did, or our bodyguards would have defended us immediately.”

  “Was Mr. Kito with you?”

  “Oh, yes. I go nowhere without him.”

  “Is he your personal servant or was he assigned to you for the duration of the visit?”

  “All of them were lent at the pleasure of the emperor, except for Mr. Toda’s guard, whom he brought along. Where are you from, Mr. Barker? Your manner of speaking is most unusual.”

  “I am a Scot, sir.”

  “A Scot! The first I have met. Why do you not wear the kilt?”

  “I own one, sir, but it would excite undue attention here in the south were I to wear it.”

  “Were you in the army yourself, sir? You seem to have a military bearing.”

  “Here and there, General. Mostly in the East.”

  “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

  “No, sir. As a matter of fact, I do not.”

  “Then perhaps you believe in fate.”

  “If by that you mean that our lives are not in our own hands most of the time, then yes.”

  We had come to question the general, but instead he seemed to be interviewing us.

  “How came you to receive that scar, sir?”

  Barker reached up and touched the old wound which bisected his right brow and cut into his cheek. “A souvenir of your country.”

  “I recognize the cut that made it, a war sword. I have seen other men with such a wound.”

  “Tell me, General Mononobe,” my employer said, turnin
g the conversation back to his questions. “With Mr. Toda dead, do you plan to continue his policies here or your own? I understand you had different ideas of what your country’s future should be.”

  “I would be roundly criticized back in Tokyo if I did not follow Toda’s policies to the letter,” he explained. “However, I am free to meet whom I choose and make alliances.”

  “Of course. You would be free to witness the demonstration of a weapon such as the heavy siege howitzer, for example, as long as you did not purchase one without your government’s permission.”

  “You understand that perfectly, Mr. Barker.”

  “Or a cannon. Or a battleship.”

  “Oh, we have ordered a battleship from your Stepney Yards. That was already planned before we arrived, during Toda’s tenure.”

  “But just the one.”

  “Just the one. So many countries now have modern weapons. We must be able to defend ourselves. We cannot expect the American navy to do it for us.”

  “I quite understand.”

  “Forgive my manners, sir!” Mononobe cried, and passed over a box of Dunhills. Barker and I declined, but the general helped himself to one and soon had it lit and drawing.

  “Do you think you can find the man who killed my old friend?”

  “I believe I can lay hands upon him shortly, yes. With your permission, I would like a list of every member of the delegation and all bodyguards and servants.”

  “You assume the killer is Japanese? How very British.”

  “I already know who might have an interest in your arrival, sir. I have no need for a list of Englishmen, since I have one of my own.”

  “Ah. Forgive me.”

  “Not at all. I—”

  The general, still puffing on his cigar, raised a framed photograph from his desk and regarded it.

  “My daughter, Mr. Barker,” he said, with some degree of pride.

  “Very pretty,” the Guv said.

  “Regrettably, she has passed. Our country was in upheaval.”

  “My condolences, General.”

  “Are you married, Mr. Barker?”

  “No, sir. Mine is a dangerous profession. I should think twice before exposing a wife to such dangers.”

  “You are still young. I’m sure there is time.”

  Barker was in his early forties, but Mononobe must be approaching sixty. I supposed to the ambassador, my employer was young, though I might have a different view on the subject.

  “Do you recall where the ambassador’s bodyguard was at the time of Toda’s death?”

  “He was guarding the front door. We had no idea an attack would come from within. He has lost face and the blame will fall to him.”

  “Is he the large fellow we saw in the garden?”

  “Yes, Mr. Barker.”

  “May I speak to him?”

  “I’m afraid he has disappeared,” Mononobe said. “He just walked off. Perhaps he is getting drunk in one of your public houses.”

  “Did anyone see him leave?”

  “No.”

  “So, he may have been lured away.”

  “More likely he is contemplating jumping in the river.”

  “Was he at the door the entire time during the night of the ambassador’s murder?”

  “I have no idea, sir. I’m afraid I do not keep track of bodyguards. There was the matter of our itinerary to discuss.”

  “Who found the body?”

  “Ohara. He completed his shift and went to Toda Ichigo’s room.”

  I tried to put it all together. Barker was out in the bushes, Fu Ying was on the roof. The guards were changing, the ministers were coming and going. From the point of view of an enquiry agent, it was complete chaos.

  “I shall make a list for you,” Mononobe continued.

  “Thank you. Is Mr. Akita in the building?”

  “You shall have to ask at the front door. He comes and goes hourly. I believe he intends to visit every manufacturer in London. He is a very energetic man, but then, he is the youngest member of our party.”

  Barker rose. “Thank you for answering my questions, sir. Come, Thomas.”

  The ambassador put down the photograph he was contemplating and nodded solemnly. Barker led me out of the room. We asked one of the guards if Mr. Akita was in the building, and for once we were in luck. He had just returned and was working in his temporary office.

  We knocked upon the door and were answered in Japanese. Barker walked in. A Japanese man with a Western haircut, a gray serge lounge suit, and pumps was sitting in a chair reading the Financial Times, with a cup of tea and a half-eaten napoleon at his elbow.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked, switching to English. He was perhaps thirty-five or an athletic forty. No older, certainly. He rose and looked at us inquiringly, with none of the suspicion I saw on the faces of the other delegates.

  “Sir, I am Cyrus Barker. I have been hired to investigate the murder of Ambassador Toda for the general.”

  He stood. “Gentlemen, have a seat. Such a tragedy. I can’t believe the master has gone all this distance, merely to be shot by an insane person.”

  “You think him insane?”

  Akita shrugged. “Of course. Toda was a man of peace. He didn’t have an enemy in Japan, while your country is full of eccentrics and murderers, or so your literature informs me.”

  “I hardly think our literature indicts us in such a fashion,” the Guv rumbled.

  “Oh, no?” he replied. “I have never met a murderer to my knowledge. How many have you known?”

  “Dozens,” the Guv admitted, “but I am not a good example, since my occupation is the hunting down of criminals. Tell me, sir, why did you not come to my garden the other morning?”

  He scrunched up his face, which made me smile.

  “I’m not much for gardens or pastoral activities of antiquity. I prefer modern life, and my time in this country is precious. I must meet every important merchant that I can in the short time I am here. Japan needs cloth and fuel. We need food and steel, inventions and marvels of the modern age if we are ever to compete. We have been isolated so long, we are in danger of being left behind. The Industrial Revolution must reach my country and find a foothold.”

  “And you are the man to do it,” I added.

  Akita gave a satisfied smile.

  “Of course. Toda, for all his wisdom, would not have done it. He always had one foot in heaven. The things of earth—trade treaties, business mergers, and global finance—had no allure for him. Nor for Mononobe. The world is a Go board for him. More than anything he wants to prove that the ways of old Japan still function well in this world of underwater telegraph cables and trains that can travel sixty miles in an hour.”

  “Do you suppose Ambassador Toda’s pacifism may have angered some people?”

  “No, not at all,” Akita said, settling back in his chair and tenting his fingers. “He was a soft-spoken man, but highly inspirational. He could convince a wild horse to wear a saddle merely by talking to it. However, his position was highly debated before he was chosen, and some felt slighted.”

  “Are you among them, sir?”

  Akita sat back in his seat and stared at the ceiling as he drew breath.

  “Yes, that is so. I wrote in several journals before we left that Toda was not the proper man to lead the embassy. The government insisted, and suggested if I continued to stir up trouble I would not be invited as a delegate. I—what is the term? I bit my lip. My opinions were never in question.”

  “And Mononobe?”

  “He claimed to be in favor of Toda leading, which of course was the popular opinion in the government and among the populace.”

  “I gather he has plans of his own, and people to see,” Barker said, which of course, he knew.

  “Oh, yes,” Akita said. “He has been attending military demonstrations here and there since we arrived. Tours at Aldershot and Sandhurst. The horse guards on parade in their barracks and demonstrations here an
d there.”

  “Is he doing this with the government’s blessing or against it?”

  “Mr. Barker, my government’s plans are secret, even from me. One goes ahead with one’s plans and then one is either rewarded or censured when it is done. It’s not a comfortable way to do business, but it is our way.”

  “Some would say Toda’s death was convenient for you, as well, sir.”

  “That is so. I admit it. I was told to rein in my purchasing while he lived. Now I have funds at my disposal and a limited time in which to spend them.”

  He tapped the desk with the point of his finger. “But make no mistake, gentlemen. If I cut a man’s throat, it is on the stock exchange. There are more ways to ruin a man than by simply pulling a trigger.”

  “How is your relationship with the general?”

  “I must toe the line, as they say. Mononobe is a powerful man. He has backers, important families who are also manufacturers. Old samurai families. By their traditions, I am a peasant. My kind of people only exist in the modern world. The old aristocracy is fading away, but men like Mononobe do not realize it. He will fight on forever.

  “Unless you have anything more for me, I’m afraid I must go. I have another appointment. Several, in fact. I am one man doing the work of a dozen.”

  Barker stood.

  “We shall leave you to your work, Mr. Akita. Thank you for taking the time to speak to us.”

  We turned, and Akita picked up the receiver on his telephone set. By the time we left the room, he was talking to a manufacturer in Durham.

  “Hmmph,” Barker rumbled.

  “What is it?”

  “Tradition versus modernity.”

  “It’s a new age,” I said. “Almost a new century.”

  “Did you notice Akita did not bow when we left? He did not even shake our hands. Sometimes I feel modernity is merely an excuse for a lack of manners.”

  “Are you feeling well, sir?” I asked. I had seen him grimace when he rose.

  “My ribs are aching.”

  “Did we accomplish anything by coming here?”

  “Perhaps. Facts accumulate like snowflakes.”

  “That sounds distinctly Japanese, sir,” I said.

  Barker used the bannister to descend the stairs, and he did so slowly. When he reached the front door he spoke to the two bodyguards there.