‘But he doesn’t even know who I am.’
‘“Tell your anonymous friend to wait by the statue of Saigo Takamori in Ueno Park at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps we can help each other.” That’s what he said.’
‘Saigo Takamori?’
‘You’ve heard of him?’
‘You mentioned him in your report to the Foreign Office, Cyril. The one I’ve read.’
Hodgson looked bemused by his own forgetfulness. ‘Of course. So I did.’
‘The defeat of his rebellion … in 1881 … led to the foundation of Dark Ocean.’
‘Actually, it was Dark Ocean that was founded in 1881 – reportedly. Saigo Takamori’s rebellion was put down in 1877. Dark Ocean adopted him as a posthumous hero. Of course, dead heroes are the most convenient kind. They can’t object to the values and opinions attributed to them.’
‘If he was a rebel, why has a statue been erected in his memory?’
‘After his defeat, he took his own life in an honourable fashion. The Emperor decided to rehabilitate him. Shortly after the attempt on the Tsarevich’s life, as I recall. He may have hoped to detach Saigo’s name from Dark Ocean’s cause. Unlike him, they’re certainly not trying to turn the clock back to the days of the Samurai. Still, Fujisaki’s choice of rendezvous does seem oddly symbolic for a man who I’d have thought had no time for symbolism. I take it you will meet him?’
Max nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I told him I was sure you would. His proposal surprised me, though. It’s out of keeping with his cautious nature. As you say, he doesn’t know who you are. So, meeting you is something of a risk.’
‘One he won’t regret taking.’
‘I hope not. Just as I hope I won’t regret keeping all this to myself a little longer.’
‘You won’t.’ Max smiled encouragingly. ‘You have my word.’
WEDNESDAY WAS STIFLINGLY hot. Max kept mostly to his room at the hotel, bar one excursion to the main post office in Nihombashi, where he rented a box in the name of Greaves. Time dragged slowly by. At three o’clock, with enormous relief, he set off for Ueno.
The taxi set him down at Ueno station, next to the park, within sight of Saigo Takamori’s statue. The old samurai was cast in bronze atop a high pedestal, clad in a yukata, pet dog by his side and a sword at his waist. Some children were sitting on the railings around the pedestal, engaged in a game that involved snapping and tossing twigs. There was no sign of anyone looking like a senior police officer.
But Max was early for his appointment, so he was not surprised. He walked on past the statue to the tree-shaded bank of Shinobazu Pond, lit a cigarette and wandered along its perimeter, donning a pair of sunglasses he had bought in Shanghai to shield his eyes from the bright pink glare of the lotus flowers covering much of the water. After a while he turned back.
Walking towards him was a middle-aged Japanese man in a worn grey suit and fedora. He was taller and broader than the average Japanese, with a grizzled beard and separate moustache. He looked directly at Max and nodded.
Max did not know how to react, but was spared the need to ponder the point when the man stepped directly into his path. He flicked a card out of his pocket and showed it to Max. It bore an insignia of some kind and a quantity of Japanese script.
‘I am Fujisaki,’ the man said. ‘You will have to believe me that this is my police warrant-card.’
‘I believe you,’ said Max evenly.
‘I saw you pass the statue and I thought: he is right; it will be better to talk while walking by the pond.’ Fujisaki bowed slightly. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Maxted-san.’
Max was taken aback. Hodgson had assured him he had withheld his name. ‘You know who I am?’
‘Commissioner Kuroda wrote to you from Marseilles. He wrote to me also. He predicted you would come to Japan. When Hodgson told me of a young man trying to help his friends, I knew it must be you. Even though your friends believe you are dead.’
How they had been given Dombreux’s account of his demise Max could only guess, but, though he regretted the distress they must have been caused by it, he took some consolation from this confirmation that his survival was not yet suspected. ‘How do you know what they believe?’
‘I have had confidential discussions with Yamanaka Fumiko of the Home Ministry. He is the elder brother of Yamanaka Eisaku, who gave assistance to Mr Morahan and Mr Twentyman in Paris. He is sheltering Mr Twentyman and Miss Hollander. We have done as much as we can for Mr Morahan. As for Mr Twentyman and Miss Hollander, arrangements have been made for them to leave Japan tonight. I cannot protect them from arrest otherwise. And I cannot protect you, if Count Tomura learns you are alive.’
‘Where are Sam and Malory? I need to speak to them.’
‘They are in a place of safety. And by tomorrow they will be out of the country. Mr Morahan and the two other men arrested will be freed eventually, I think, though it may take many months. My advice to you is to leave Japan as quietly as you entered it. There is nothing you can do here.’
‘How much do you know about Count Tomura, Commissioner?’
‘Enough. He has formed an alliance with Fritz Lemmer. I know of what they intend.’
‘Their plans will damage your country.’
Fujisaki nodded solemnly. ‘So Kuroda believed. So I believe.’
‘I mean to stop them.’
‘It is foolish to attempt what you cannot achieve.’
‘Where are Sam and Malory?’
Fujisaki sighed. ‘Let us walk.’
They headed on round the pond at a measured pace. Fujisaki lit a cigarette and took several thoughtful draws on it.
‘If you speak to Mr Twentyman and Miss Hollander before they leave, they will not leave after all, will they? They will stay and try to help you finish what Mr Morahan started.’
‘I’ll urge them to go. I can do this alone. I just need to find out how they got into so much trouble.’
‘I am sorry, Maxted-san, but I do not agree. They will stay. Then all three of you will need my help. And in helping you I will become known to Count Tomura – and to Lemmer – as an enemy.’
‘You’re afraid you’ll end up like Kuroda?’
‘Of course. But I would be prepared to risk that if I was convinced you really could stop them.’
‘I really can.’
‘How?’
‘I can’t tell you, Commissioner. The fewer who know my plans the better.’
‘Mmm. I see.’ Fujisaki glanced out across the pond. ‘You like lotuses?’
‘Very pretty.’
‘Some say they have heard the flowers pop when they open. Others say they make no sound. It is not easy to believe they do … unless you have heard it.’
‘Have you?’
‘Not yet. Policemen are too busy to linger by lotus ponds. You must convince me, Maxted-san. Otherwise I will not put your friends’ lives – and mine – in danger by telling you all I know of Count Tomura and his German friend. You must convince me you have a weapon to use against them. And I must hear what it is. The letter I received from Kuroda included a message from Marquess Saionji.’
‘From Saionji?’
‘Yes. In Meiji ten – 1877, as you would have it – at the time of Saigo Takamori’s rebellion, Saionji was a junior advisor at the Japanese legation in Paris. Saigo tried to buy arms and ammunition for his rebel army from European dealers. Saionji suggested the best way to prevent this was for the legation to outbid Saigo. As a result, his supply was cut off and his army defeated. It is an interesting story. It shows how, even as a young man, Saionji could combat an enemy from a great distance without appearing to do anything.’
‘Is he combating Tomura and Lemmer from a great distance?’
‘He is trying to. He was born in Kyoto, when it was still the capital. He has a house there, Seifu-so. He told Commissioner Kuroda that you and anyone you vouched for could have sanctuary at Seifu-so if you needed it.’
�
�Kind of him, I’m sure, but we’re a long way from Kyoto.’
‘Yet he seems to think you may find yourself there in the future.’
‘Why would he think that?’
Fujisaki stopped and looked at Max intently. ‘I am listening for the pop of the lotus, Maxted-san. If I do not hear it, I will say no more.’
So Max took the plunge and told him, about the secret son Lemmer had lodged at a Swiss boarding school and how, at word from Max, the boy would be abducted and held until Lemmer had given up the names of his spies and the ‘great secret’ that would bring down Tomura. And Fujisaki listened, attentively and silently, to every word. And then they walked on.
‘How old is the boy?’ came Fujisaki’s first question.
‘Fifteen.’
‘You will threaten to kill him?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you will not, of course, whatever Lemmer does.’
‘No. But Lemmer must believe we are willing to kill him.’
‘Kuroda was certain Lemmer possessed a letter sent by Prime Minister Terauchi to German Foreign Minister Zimmermann early in 1917 agreeing terms for Japan to change sides in the war.’
‘He will be required to surrender it.’
‘To save the life of his son.’
‘His only son.’
‘Have you any children, Maxted-san?’
‘No. You?’
‘Yes.’ Fujisaki nodded. ‘There is nothing else I could imagine that would be effective against a man such as Lemmer. But this …’ He nodded again, more decisively. ‘I will help you as far as I can.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Thank me when it is over, if we are both still alive. We are putting our heads in the mouth of a tiger. You understand?’
‘I do.’
‘Very well. Some of the information I will give you I obtained personally, some I obtained from Yamanaka Fumiko. Lemmer entered the country June twentieth. He is staying at the Imperial Hotel under the name of Frederik Boel. He is using a Danish passport. He has been introduced by Count Tomura to several senior government members. Also to the head of the Kempeitai. Two days ago, he visited the Imperial Navy base at Yokosuka. He is accompanied by his secretary, also Danish, according to her passport – Anna Staun.’
‘Real name Anna Schmidt.’
‘Arigato gozaimasu. Anna Schmidt. Count Tomura arrived with them, accompanied by his son and manservant and two other people now staying at his house here in Tokyo: a Russian woman called Natasha Kisleva and a Frenchman called Patrice Brasseur.’
So, Nadia was using the same alias she had in Scotland. As for a Frenchman called Brasseur, there was only one person he could be. Dombreux’s failure to meet Max in Lausanne was now explained, though as yet it was unclear whether he had travelled to Japan by choice or by diktat of Lemmer. ‘Their real names are Nadia Bukayeva and Pierre Dombreux.’
‘Mata arigato gozaimasu. Nadia Bukayeva; Pierre Dombreux. Hodgson will have told you that Lewis Everett is the witness who accused Morahan of the murder of Jack Farngold. He and two other men, Albert Duffy and Howard Monteith, have made statements to the police accusing Morahan of killing Farngold as part of a plot to assassinate Prime Minister Hara. I will try to arrange for the investigation of their accusations to proceed very slowly. So far, the only formal charge against Morahan, Djabsu and Ward is murder. Everett, Duffy and Monteith are at the Metropole Hotel in Tsukiji. Count Tomura’s house is in Akasaka. I will tell you exactly where presently. It is well guarded. It seems he believes there are people who may wish to harm him or his guests.’
‘From what I hear, Tomura’s done enough over the years to collect quite a few enemies.’
‘Perhaps over the centuries. The Tomuras were feudal lords even before the Tokugawa Shogunate, but it was as allies of the Tokugawas that they grew powerful. Their castle still stands north of Kyoto. Tomura’s second wife lives there.’
‘He married again?’
‘So I understand. A Japanese woman. She is never seen with him in Tokyo. As far as I know, she never comes here.’
‘And Sam and Malory? Where are they?’
‘At the house of a friend of Yamanaka in Sendagi. Will you go to them there?’
‘You said you’d arranged for them to leave Japan tonight.’
‘I have. From Yokohama, on a Dutch ship bound for Shanghai.’
‘Then I’ll see them in Yokohama, before they go. The less time they have to think about staying the better. I want them safely out of the country. Shanghai is perfect.’
‘If you want them out of the country, do not let them know you are still alive.’
‘I have to, Commissioner. I need to know everything that’s happened since they arrived.’
‘Also you do not want them to believe you are dead and that Lemmer and Tomura cannot be touched.’ Fujisaki glanced at Max knowingly. ‘Is that it?’
‘I prefer not to leave my friends in needless despair, if that’s what you mean.’
Fujisaki did not explain what he meant, though Max suspected he knew. Sentiment was weakness. It was a luxury they could not afford. But without it they were no better than Lemmer. That was the dilemma they would have to live or die by.
‘I’m going to give this everything I have, Commissioner.’
Apprehensive though he knew he should have felt, Max was actually possessed by something much closer to satisfaction when he and Fujisaki parted. Whatever he learnt from Sam and Malory before seeing them on their way, there was no reason to hold back now. As when a long-delayed order for action had reached his squadron in France, there was a sense of physical release. At last, he was off the leash.
From the post office next to Ueno station he despatched an urgent cable to box-holder Brown at Evian-les-Bains post office in France. Western Europe was nine hours behind Japan, so Appleby would receive the message in the morning. Max knew he would act on it without delay.
PLEASE CONFIRM ACQUISITION OF ARTICLE ASAP TO BOX SIXTY-SEVEN GPO NIHOMBASHI TOKYO. GREAVES
The wheels had begun to turn.
VERONICA UNDERWOOD, NEE Edwards, secret service senior cipher clerk, recently reassigned as special assistant to Horace Appleby, emerged from the post office in Evian-les-Bains that morning at an unusually sharp pace.
She was a slim, blonde-haired, fair-featured woman in her late twenties, discreetly dressed, though not discreetly enough to escape an appreciative glance from a man who was entering the post office as she left.
The past fortnight had been a trial for her, but she had borne it without complaint. She respected Appleby and knew if he judged something essential it truly was.
‘I can give you no details of what’s involved, Mrs Underwood,’ he had said to her in the Piccadilly tea-room where they had first discussed the matter one hot June afternoon. ‘I need the help of someone I can trust absolutely in an operation crucial to the safety of the realm. Where we’re going and why will have to wait. All I can say is you’ll never have been involved in anything more important. I know you were fond of Bostridge. Well, this is a chance to bring to book the men responsible for his death. What do you say?’
She said yes, of course, as patriotism and loyalty to the Service demanded. And her husband did his best to accept her decision. She realized, after setting off for Switzerland with Appleby a week later, that he had chosen her not so much because of her deciphering skills (which, though considerable, were not in Bostridge’s league) as because he was sure of her. If she had worked for Lemmer, he would not have allowed her to leave the Service, to which she had only recently returned at Appleby’s pleading. As it was, Appleby explained, Lemmer had more spies than the most pessimistic assumptions had ever indicated, some – too many – within the Service itself. Their mission was to extort the names of those spies out of Lemmer by the disagreeable recourse of kidnapping his son. ‘I don’t like it any more than you will, Mrs Underwood. But it has to be done.’
She could only agree. Lemmer had to be stopped. Therefore his
son had to be taken. And minding him during however many days they would have to hold him captive would fall partly if not mostly to her. But there it was. With no progress to report in deciphering the Grey File – the impenetrably encoded master-list of Lemmer’s agents Max had delivered to Appleby – and therefore no indication as to who was loyal and who was not, drastic action was called for. And this was it.
The team Appleby had assembled for the operation, to be carried out on both the French and Swiss sides of Lake Geneva, was small and, by normal standards, of questionable suitability. It was just as well Veronica was willing to do anything he asked of her. Working with the incorrigibly flirtatious Lionel Brigham, officially on extended leave from the Foreign Office, was by turns irksome and irritating. He reacted as badly to being given orders as was to be expected of a displaced mandarin, but addressing her as ‘my girl’ and making occasional suggestions she preferred to pretend she did not understand proved a sore test of her forbearance.
The other two members of the team were a French father and son, Michel and André Marmier, Lake Geneva fishermen and boat-repairers, whom Appleby had recruited to buy and crew a motor-launch and do whatever else might be needed without quibbling. For this they were to be generously rewarded. Marmier senior was taciturn even in his native language and spoke no English. Marmier junior was marginally less silent and possessed some facility in English, along with a muscular physique he seized every opportunity to display and which Veronica could not help admiring.
Appleby had rented – technically, Brigham had rented – a lakeside villa west of Evian called Les Saules. He had paid over the odds considering its shabby condition, but it boasted three crucial facilities: a cellar, a telephone line and a landing-stage. Veronica’s first task was to render the villa habitable and stock it with food – ‘woman’s work’ as Brigham called it. Really, the man was insufferable, but evidently indispensable.
Appleby had bought two cars, one in Evian, which Veronica drove, one in Lausanne, which he and Brigham used to monitor the comings and goings of the boys at Institut Le Rosey, along the lake at Rolle.
James Maxted 03 The Ends of the Earth Page 13