Boris Akunin - The Coronation

‘Oh ye at whom have trembled

Europe’s mighty tribes,

Oh, predatory Gauls ( ce sont nous, les français ) 1

You too have fallen in your graves.

Oh dread! Oh fearsome times!

Where are you now, beloved son of fortune and Bellona ( il parle de Napoléon ) 2

The voice that scorned the truth, and faith and law,

Dreaming in pride of casting thrones down by the sword,

Has vanished like a frightful dream when morning comes!’

‘After that, memorising the creaks of the wheels will be a sheer pleasure. Just as long as I don’t lose count. Imust not lose count. Today is our last chance. I am very nervous.’

Yes, I could see that her affected cheerfulness and all this jolly banter was merely a screen for profound anxiety.

I wanted to say that I was I was verymuch afraid for her. After all, Fandorin had said that Doctor Lind did not leave witnesses. It would be nothing to him to kill the intermediary when she was no longer needed. If those in higher spheres were willing to abandon Mikhail Georgievich to his fate, then who would be concerned about the death of a mere governess?

‘I should not have run after that carriage. It was an unforgivable mistake,’ I finally said in Russian. ‘You see, now you will have to carry the can for me.’

It was not what I wanted to say – it came out wrongly – and there was that phrase ‘carry the can’, which a foreigner was unlikely to know. But even so Mademoiselle understood me perfectly well.

‘Do not be so afraid, Athanas,’ she said with a smile, calling me by my given name for the first time. On her lips it acquired an unfamiliar Caucasian ring. ‘Lind will not kill me today. I still have to bring him the Orlov tomorrow.’

I am ashamed to admit it, but at that moment I felt a sense of relief as I recalled how confidently Snezhnevskaya had declared that the Orlovwould not be handed over to the kidnappers under any circumstances. Itwas a base unworthy feeling, and I blanched at the realisation that in that moment I had betrayed poor little Mikhail Georgievich, who had already been abandoned by everyone else. In my opinion, the very worst of sins is to abuse those most precious of human feelings, love and trust.

And then I felt even more ashamed, because I remembered that Mr Masa had called me that Japaneseword. Ura . . . girimono ?

I really had behaved irresponsibly on that occasion. And as a decent human being I was obliged to apologise.

Having wished the governess success in her difficult and dangerous mission, I went to find the Japanese servant.

I knocked at the door and heard an unintelligible soundwhich, upon reflection, I decided to regard as permission to enter.

Mr Masawas sitting on the floor in nothing but his underwear, that is in the same attire in which I had once seen him jumping against the wall. There was a sheet of paper lying in front of him, and Fandorin’s valet was painstakingly tracing out complicated patterns on it with a brush.

‘What you want?’ he asked, squinting at me with his narrow, spiteful little eyes.

I was rather taken aback by his rude tone of voice, but I had to finish what I had begun. My late father always used to say that true dignity lay not in the way one was treated by others, but in the way one acted oneself.

‘Mr Masa,’ I said, bowing, ‘I have come to tell you, firstly, that I harbour no claims on you for the blow that you gave me, for my own offence was fully deserving of such treatment. And, secondly, that I am truly sorry that I was unwittingly responsible for the failure of Mr Fandorin’s plan. Please forgive me.’

The Japanese bowed formally to me in reply, without getting up off the floor.

‘And I ask you forgive me,’ he said, ‘but cannot forgive you. Your humbre servant.’

And he bowed again.

Well, have it your own way, I thought. I had done my duty. I said goodbye and left the room.

I needed to occupy myself with something until Mademoiselle’s return, so that the time would not drag so very slowly. I walked round the rooms, and in the drawing room my eye was caught by a carpet on the wall hung with weapons from the Caucasus and Turkey. I stood on a chair, took down a dagger with silver knurling decoration and ran my finger along it. The scabbard was clean, with not a single speck of dust. I wondered if Somov was meticulous enough to pay the same attention to the blade as he did to the scabbard.

I slowly drew the blade out, breathed on it and held it up to the light. Just as I had thought – smears. And what if one of the guests were to examine it, out of simple curiosity? That would be awkward. Somov had a long way to go before he would be a genuine butler after all, I decided with a certain feeling of inner satisfaction.

I heard strange flapping footsteps and saw Mr Masa, still in his Japanese underwear and with no shoes on his feet. Good Lord, the liberties that he took! Wandering round the house in that state!

I suppose Imust have looked very angry, and the naked dagger in my hand probably looked most ominous. In any case, the Japanese was clearly frightened.

He ran up to me, seized hold of my arm and began jabbering so fast that I could not make out more than half of what he said: ‘Now I see you trury sorry. You genuine samurai, accept your aporogies. No need hara-kiri.’

All I understoodwas that for some reason he wished to temper his wrath with mercy and was no longer angry with me. Well then, so much the better.

I did not complete my round of the rooms. The footman Lipps sought me out in the pantry, where I was checking whether the napkins had been well ironed, and told me I was wanted immediately in Pavel Georgievich’s room on the first floor.

Lieutenant Endlung was also sitting in the room. He glanced at mewith a mysterious air as he smoked a longTurkish chibouk.

‘Sit down, Afanasii, sit down,’ His Highness said to me, which was already unusual in itself.

I cautiously lowered myself onto the edge of a chair, anticipating nothing good from this conversation.

Pavel Georgievich looked excited and determined, but the subject that he broached was not at all what I had been dreading.

‘Filya has been telling me for a long time, Afanasii, that you are not at all as simple as you seem,’ the grand duke began, with a nod towards Endlung, ‘but I would not believe him. Now I see that it is true.’

Iwas on the point of trying to explain myself, but His Highness gestured abruptly as if to say ‘Be quiet’ and then continued.

‘And that iswhy we have discussed things and decided to enlist your support. Youmust not think that I am some heartless good-for-nothing, and I have just been sitting around doing nothing all this time or making the rounds of the restaurants. No, Afanasii, all that is nothing but a facade, in actual fact Filya and I have been thinking of only one thing – how to help poor Mika. The police are all well and good, but we’re not entirely useless either. We have to do something, otherwise those state know-it-alls will finally get the criminals to starve my brother to death or just simply kill him. That glass bauble means more to them!’

This was the plain truth. I thought exactly the same but, to be quite honest, I was not expecting any sensible proposals from the dashing sailors, and I merely inclined my head respectfully.

‘Endlung has a theory of his own,’ Pavel Georgievich went on excitedly. ‘Tell him, Filya.’

‘Gladly,’ the lieutenant responded, blowing out a cloud of smoke. ‘Judge for yourself, Afanasii Stepanovich. It couldn’t possibly be simpler. What do we know about this Doctor Lind?’

Iwaited for Endlung to answer his own question. He raised one finger and continued: ‘Only one thing. That he is a misogynist. He simply has to be a misogynist! Any normal man fond of the tootsies, like youandme–’ I could not help wincing at that remark ‘– would never stoop to such abominations. That’s true, surely?’