James Maxted 03 The Ends of the Earth

by Robert Goddard

  ‘What can I do for you, Nadia?’ Schools asked. ‘It is Nadia, right?’

  ‘And you are Schools Morahan, the big man. Leaving Japan tomorrow, I hear.’

  ‘What’s that to you?’

  ‘I have this for you.’ She dropped a well-filled foolscap envelope on the bed. ‘To take to America with you.’

  ‘You’re a little young to be writing your memoirs.’

  ‘The envelope contains information obtained by Lemmer about Count Tomura’s part in various incidents, including the assassination of Korean Empress Myongsong in October of 1895.’

  ‘Queen Min? Kinda old news, I’d say.’

  ‘Read it and you will not think that. The assassins did not just kill her. They raped her. They burned her. They beheaded her. And Tomura was there. He was one of them.’

  ‘He’s your friend, Nadia, not mine. And I judge people by the people they choose to associate with. That doesn’t leave you smelling of violets.’

  ‘He is not my friend.’

  ‘He’s Lemmer’s friend. And you serve Lemmer.’

  ‘No longer.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘You know what has happened. Lemmer is finished. He is over. I am not with him any more.’

  ‘Who are you with?’

  ‘No one. That is why I have brought this to you. To prove I no longer serve Lemmer or Tomura.’

  ‘What d’you want me to do with it?’

  ‘Take it with you to San Francisco. Give it to the newspapers. Use it to damage Tomura.’

  ‘Well, if it’s as sensational as you say, I guess the papers’ll want to print it. What d’you get out of it?’

  ‘I want Max to tell Appleby I am out of the game. I want to be forgotten.’

  ‘If I see him, I’ll pass your message on.’

  ‘And when will you see him?’

  ‘Couldn’t say. He’s already out of the country. Shanghai-bound.’

  Nadia sighed. ‘We both know where Max is. Also why he is there. But I do not know exactly where he is. Therefore I cannot warn him. Only you can.’

  ‘Warn him of what?’

  ‘I have a source of information in Count Tomura’s house. I have learnt something today that Max should be told of.’

  ‘What would that be?’

  ‘Tomura has left Tokyo. He has taken his son and Ishibashi with him. They are travelling to his castle north of Kyoto. Kawajuki-jo. Zangai-jo. That is where they are going. They will arrive tomorrow.’

  Nadia was right about the need to warn Max of such a development. But Schools did not intend to tell her so. ‘Why should Max care where the Tomuras go? Like I told you, he’s left the country.’

  She gave Schools a tight little smile. ‘Warn him. He is your friend. He must know of this. It makes what he plans to do more dangerous. And it was already dangerous enough.’

  ‘Well, I—’

  ‘I have told you and you will tell him. That is the truth. I say no more. Do svidaniya.’ She turned and walked swiftly from the room.

  ‘Where are you going, Nadia?’ he called after her.

  But she did not reply.

  Schools waited a strategic few minutes, then heaved himself out of the chair and went to the door.

  ‘Takatsuki?’ he called.

  Takatsuki appeared. ‘She gone, Morahan-san. Nice, huh?’

  ‘I need to make a telephone call to a Kyoto number.’

  ‘Telephone? Sumimasen, Morahan-san. No telephone calls unless Chokan says.’

  By Chokan, Takatsuki meant his boss, Commissioner Fujisaki. Schools sighed heavily. ‘Better call Chokan, then.’

  It took over an hour to contact Fujisaki, though he readily gave his consent once Schools had assured him the call would have no effect on his deportation the following day. ‘I’ll go quietly, Commissioner. You have my word.’ And his word was evidently good enough.

  After Takatsuki had authorized the operator to put him through, Schools was connected with Seifu-so.

  ‘Seifu-so.’

  ‘Schools Morahan calling. For Max.’

  ‘Max? Er … Wait, please.’

  A moment passed. Then:

  ‘Schools?’

  ‘There’s news, Max. I had a visit from Nadia Bukayeva.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘She claims to have split from Lemmer.’

  ‘That wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘She wants you to put in a good word for her with Appleby.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘Because she’s done you a favour. She told me something you need to know. Tomura’s heading your way, with his son in tow.’

  ‘Is he, by God?’

  ‘They’ll reach the castle tomorrow. That swings the odds against you.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘To hell with maybe, Max. They’ll be there.’

  ‘If Nadia told you the truth. It could be a ruse to scare me off. Some move by Lemmer to persuade Tomura he still needs him. It won’t work.’

  ‘You’ll go ahead?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Of course. Max would go through with it however slim his chances were. He knew no other way. ‘How are your preparations going?’

  ‘Just as I’d hoped.’

  ‘Then all I can do is wish you the luck you’ll surely need.’

  ‘Thanks, Schools. Listen, Malory will want to speak to you, I know. A last word before you get on that ship tomorrow. Don’t mention Nadia’s visit, will you, or this news about Tomura? There’s no sense worrying her unnecessarily.’

  It seemed to Schools that Max had a strange definition of unnecessarily. But arguing with him was futile. His certainty was evident in his voice even down a crackling telephone line. He was committed. He was determined. Nothing – absolutely nothing – was going to stop him.

  MAX BARELY SLEPT that night. Well before three o’clock, he was up, waiting by the gate for le Singe to arrive. He walked out into the lane that led down to Imadegawa-dori. The darkness beneath the bamboos that fringed the lane was sprinkled with fireflies. The air was sweet and warm, the silence velvety.

  Then le Singe was there, beside him, announcing himself as a sensation before Max was properly aware of the darker patch of shadow at his elbow that was a human presence.

  ‘Seddik?’

  A hand, placed lightly on Max’s shoulder, was le Singe’s answer. He had arrived.

  ‘Follow me.’

  Max walked back in through the gate and round to the rear of the villa, where the Appersons were stowed. A lantern was shining there, held by Sam, who had got up to see them off.

  ‘Thought I’d better be here, in case you had trouble with the car, sir,’ he explained, not altogether convincingly. ‘They can be temperamental, these Yank motors.’

  ‘We’ll be fine, Sam,’ said Max. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. This is just a little pantomime to oblige the Dragonfly.’

  ‘You be careful, even so.’

  ‘Aren’t I always?’

  Nodding to le Singe, Sam said, ‘Pleased to meet you again.’

  There was no immediate response. After an awkward few seconds, le Singe nodded back.

  ‘I was at Soutine’s apartment, in Paris.’

  Another nod. That was all. ‘He knows, Sam,’ said Max. ‘He knows.’

  Max drove west through the empty night as far as the village of Arashiyama and a little way beyond.

  Le Singe was a disconcerting travelling companion, by virtue of his stillness as much as his silence. He gave no clue to his thoughts or intentions. He was there, as Laskaris had said he would be. His collaboration with Max had begun. There was nothing more.

  Max pulled the car off the road close to the lane leading to the Dragonfly’s villa and stopped. The new day was dawning. The shadows remained deep in the bamboo forest around them. But at least he could now see le Singe’s face.

  ‘Ready?’

  Le Singe took a deep draught of air and gazed about him, widening his eyes, as if to accust
om them to the level of the light. Then he nodded. And they both got out of the car.

  It was a swift march up the bamboo-tunnelled lane to the outer gate of the villa. They climbed over and Max led the way along the footpath he had followed with Malory the day before.

  Screened by the trees bounding the property, to the rear of the villa itself, stood the outhouses. The light was still thin, the outlines of buildings and hedges blurry, but the way ahead was readily discernible. After entering the garden, they diverted left, avoiding the lawn, where they might have been glimpsed by an early-rising servant.

  They paused twenty yards or so short of the storehouse, beneath some ginkgo trees. All was quiet. Nothing stirred in the villa. The time had come to discover whether the Dragonfly had been as good as her word.

  ‘The box is in there,’ said Max, pointing. ‘It’s on the third shelf up on the left as you enter. We need to be certain we have the right one.’

  Le Singe smiled, as if the matter was simplicity itself. He slipped the piece of paper Laskaris had given him out of his tunic and handed it to Max without even glancing at it. The kanji were imprinted on his mind. Max wondered how many times he had actually looked at them. Once? Twice? It did not matter. They were there. There would be no mistake.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Max, starting forward.

  But le Singe grasped his arm and held him back. He was still smiling. But he was also shaking his head, signalling for Max to stay where he was. He could do this alone. He wanted to do this alone.

  Max shrugged his consent and le Singe moved away from the trees. Watching him go, Max wondered if his motive was to demonstrate his expertise in advance of their raid on Zangai-jo. It was unnecessary. His expertise was not in doubt. But perhaps he thought Max would be reassured to see it in action.

  Just as le Singe reached the door, there was a drift of smoke from the far side of the outhouse. The source of the smoke was out of sight. Max could not have explained why it disturbed him. But, suddenly, he was uneasy.

  Le Singe hesitated. He had smelt the smoke as well. But there was not a lot of it. Perhaps there was no cause for alarm. He stretched forward and turned the door handle.

  It was not locked. There was a creak as the heavy iron door swung open. Le Singe stepped over the threshold.

  In that instant, there were three powerful gunshots in quick succession. Le Singe staggered back. He was hit. He took two faltering steps, then fell.

  Max had his gun in his hand and was racing towards the storehouse. It was a trap, he realized too late, intended for him. And le Singe had walked straight into it.

  Terada Dentaro appeared in the doorway, holding a short rifle. The barrel was smoking. He looked down at le Singe and frowned. The Arab boy’s grimacing face was not the face he had expected to see. Then he saw Max.

  But not soon enough. Max pumped four bullets into his chest. Terada was jolted back against the doorframe. He gave a spluttering groan and tried to raise the rifle. Max shot him through the head then. He slid down, blood smearing the post behind him. And toppled to one side.

  Max crouched over le Singe and saw the pool of blood spreading beneath him. His coat and tunic were dark with it. His eyes rolled. He tried to raise his right arm. He seemed to be pointing at something, trying to focus on it.

  Max turned and looked up. The object of le Singe’s attention was the figure of a dragon, carved on the ridge of the storehouse roof above the door, copper-green, taloned and fanged, jaws gaping in a silent snarl.

  When Max looked back, the light had gone out behind le Singe’s eyes. He could see the dragon no longer.

  Cursing himself for his failure to anticipate treachery, Max hurried round to the side of the building. The ashes of a fire were heaped there, fragments of wood still smouldering, smoke rising from them fitfully. An empty wooden chest lay discarded nearby.

  Suddenly, what had happened was horribly clear. Terada had burnt the model of the Inside, then lain in wait to kill Max. No doubt he had hoped for a lot in the way of career advancement from Tomura in return for such distinguished service. Whether the Dragonfly was party to what he had done Max did not know.

  But he meant to find out.

  He ran to the villa and wrenched open one of the doors. Where the Dragonfly might be he could only guess. He strode along passages, flinging doors wide, seeing empty rooms beyond empty rooms, hanging lanterns and calligraphic scrolls stirring in the moving air.

  Then he heard a scream. It was from some way off, unconnected, as far as he could tell, to his invasion of the house. It became a high, keening wail. He raced towards it, through the maze of rooms.

  Its source was the room in which the Dragonfly evidently slept. Beneath a screen-painting of herons and cherry blossom, she lay stretched across a futon, pink-robed and motionless, her face frozen in the blankness of death. The maid who had served tea the previous afternoon was kneeling beside her, sobbing and howling, unaware of Max’s presence.

  An argument; a struggle; strangulation; stifling. How Terada had killed her hardly mattered. They were both dead now.

  And so was le Singe.

  THE GUILT MAX felt at le Singe’s death was rooted in knowing he had persuaded Laskaris to let the boy help him. It was only made worse by the fact that he had kept to himself Morahan’s warning that Tomura was heading for Zangai-jo. He should have considered why Tomura had left Tokyo, of course, though even if he had guessed Terada was the reason …

  Sam, Malory and Chiyoko were waiting for him at Seifu-so. He told them as plainly as he could what had happened. He saw the shock blanch their faces. It was not supposed to have been like this. His plan had miscarried. And clearly, in their view, little of it remained. But that was not how he saw it. That was not how he saw it at all.

  He telephoned Laskaris and broke the news. He heard the old man gasp and stifle a sob. Whatever Seddik Yala had been to Soutine, to Laskaris he was something close to a son. This was a loss he would find hard to bear, all the more so for being unexpected, if not unbelievable.

  ‘Mon Dieu,’ Laskaris groaned. ‘I thought he was immortal.’

  An hour later, Laskaris was at Seifu-so, listening face to face to Max’s account of how le Singe had met his death. There was no cigar this time. Laskaris was grey and grave and sombrely spoken.

  They stood in the garden, where the crows cawed and the breeze moved dark shadows across the surface of the pond. Many silent moments passed after Max had finished before Laskaris spoke. When he did, his voice was gravelly, his tone leaden.

  ‘I must go to the police. Seddik needs me more in death than in life. I will have to arrange his burial. I will say he told me he was going to meet Terada Dentaro. I will say I do not know why. I will say nothing about you.’

  ‘You should ask for Chief Inspector Wada. Fujisaki said he was a good man. He’s probably already been called to the villa.’

  Laskaris nodded. ‘Wada. I will remember.’ He looked at Max, his expression tautening. ‘Tomura is responsible for this. I will make him pay.’

  ‘He’s due at Zangai-jo later today.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘A phone call from Morahan.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Last night.’

  ‘And yet still you went ahead.’

  ‘It never occurred to me Terada had contacted him. It was supposed to be just a make-believe burglary.’

  ‘But once Tomura reached Zangai-jo, your chances of success would be much reduced, even with Seddik and the model of the Inside. When did you intend to inform me of the change in circumstances?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘You didn’t, did you? You were not willing to be deflected. And now, Max? With Seddik dead, the model destroyed and Tomura on his way to the castle, will you still not be deflected?’

  Max said nothing. No reply he could offer seemed to fit the moment.

  ‘You will die in there. They will kill you. It is suicide to attempt a rescue with so little – with nothing –
in your favour.’

  ‘It is my duty, Viktor. It’s as simple as that.’

  ‘Your duty? Not Seddik’s, you would agree?’

  ‘I’m truly sorry. If I’d known what Terada was up to … Seddik would still be alive.’

  Laskaris turned away. He took and held a long breath, then slowly released it. He turned back and looked at Max again. ‘You should leave Japan tomorrow, from Kobe, in the vessel I have engaged. The Ptarmigan. The captain is a Scot named McFarland.’ He handed Max a sealed letter. ‘This directs McFarland to take instructions from you or Twentyman or Miss Hollander. He will convey you to Shanghai. He will be carrying a cargo of furniture, but he is at your disposal.’

  ‘Thank you. Sam and Malory will be aboard.’

  ‘But not you?’

  ‘Nor you, Viktor. We both have unfinished business here.’

  ‘I may be risking my life by remaining. You will be throwing yours away.’

  ‘He looked a broken man, sir,’ said Sam, coming out to meet Max on the verandah after Laskaris had left.

  ‘He thought le Singe was untouchable. So did I, if it comes to it. I never imagined – neither did Laskaris – that he could be killed by one fool with a gun.’

  ‘If a bullet’s got your name on it …’

  ‘We should be leaving.’

  ‘To go where, sir?’

  ‘Lake Biwa.’

  Sam frowned in obvious dismay. ‘You mean …’

  ‘I’m not giving up.’

  ‘But … without le Singe and the model …’

  ‘After we’ve bought the seaplane and checked it over and fitted the spare fuel tanks, I want you to put Chiyoko on the next train to Tokyo. Then I want you and Malory to travel to Kobe. Stay there overnight. The ship Laskaris has engaged is the Ptarmigan, waiting in the harbour. I have a letter authorizing the skipper to take instructions from you or Malory. Go aboard tomorrow morning and tell him to make for Shanghai. We’ll meet there in a week or so. I’ll stand you a drink at the Astor House.’

  ‘That’s whistling in the wind, sir, and you know it.’

  ‘I have to do this, Sam. And I’m going to.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’