Boris Akunin - The State Counsellor

'How touching of you to come in full uniform, and with all your medals,' a cheerful voice declared behind him. 'So you know already? And I wanted to surprise you.'

Pozharsky was standing on a short flight of four marble steps, dressed in a style that was far from formal - a morning coat and checked trousers - but with his lips set in a very broad smile.

'I accept your congratulations with gratitude,' he said with a humorous bow, 'although such solemnity is really rather excessive. Come into the office. I have something to show you.'

Erast Petrovich did not give himself away by so much as a single gesture, but when he happened to catch a glimpse in the mirror of the brilliant gleam of his medals and the gold embroidery on his uniform, he blushed painfully at his ignominious error. The Wisest of the Wise came to his assistance: 'When the world appears completely black, the superior man seeks for a small white speck in it.' The State Counsellor made an effort and the white speck was immediately found: at least now he would not be required to preside over public sobriety.

Without saying a word, Erast Petrovich followed Pozharsky into the head police-master's office and halted in the doorway, wondering where to sit - the divan and the armchairs were covered with dust sheets.

'I haven't had a chance to settle in yet. Here, let's use this,' said Pozharsky, pulling the white sheet off the divan. 'I received the telegram informing me of my appointment at dawn. But for you that's not the most important thing. This is ... a text for the newspapers, forwarded from St Petersburg. Intended for publication on the twenty-seventh. Dolgorukoi has already been sent the imperial edict. Read it.'

Erast Petrovich picked up the telegraph form with the official stamp 'Top Secret' and ran his eyes down the long column of paper ribbons glued closely together.

Today, on the supremely festive occasion of His Majesty the Sovereign Emperor’s birthday, Moscow has been blessed as never before by the Tsar's beneficent favour: the Autocratic Ruler of Russia has placed the first capital city of His Empire in the direct charge of His Most August Brother, the Grand Duke Simeon Alexandrovich, by appointing His Highness as Governor General of Moscow.

There is profound historical significance in this appointment. Moscow enters once again into direct communion with the Most August House of the Russian Tsars. The Centuries-old spiritual link between the leader of the Russian people and the ancient capital of Russia today assumes that external, palpable form which is of such profound importance for the clear national awareness of all the people.

Today the Sovereign Emperor has deemed it a boon to exalt even further Moscow's significance as a national palladium by appointing as His representative there none other than His Own Most August Brother.

Muscovites will never forget the easy accessibility for which Prince Vladimir Andreevich was so noted, the cordial consideration that he extended to all those who turned for him to help, the energy with which ...

'Have you read the bit about easy accessibility?' asked Pozharsky, evidendy impatient to proceed with the conversation. 'You don't need to read any more; there's a lot, but it's all froth. So there you are, Erast Petrovich: your patron's finished. And now the time has come for the two of us finally to clarify our relationship. From now on Moscow changes, and it will never again be the same as it was under your amiable Dolgorukoi. Genuine authority is being established in the city, firm power, without any of that "easy accessibility". Your boss failed to understand the true nature of power, he failed to distinguish between its sacred and practical functions, with the result that your city became bogged down in its old patriarchal habits and was making no progress at all towards the new century approaching.'

The prince spoke seriously, with energy and conviction. This was probably what he was really like, when he wasn't playing the hypocrite or being cunning.

'Sacred authority will be represented in Moscow by His Highness, my patron, whose interests I have actually represented here from the very beginning. I can now speak about that openly, without dissimulation. The Grand Duke is a man of a somewhat dreamy cast of mind, with rather distinctive tastes, about which you have no doubt already heard.'

Erast Petrovich recalled what people used to say about Simeon Alexandrovich: that he liked to surround himself with handsome young adjutants; but it was not clear if that was what Pozharsky had in mind.

'But then, that's not so very important. The fundamental point is that His Highness is not going to interfere in any business apart from the public gala parade variety - that is, he will not bedim the mystical halo of authority with "easy accessibility" and "cordial consideration". The practical power, the real power over this city of a million people, will go to Moscow's head police-master, and from today onwards, that happens to be me. I know that you will never stoop to writing underhand denunciations and whispering in ears, and therefore I think it possible to be absolute frank with you.' Gleb Georgievich glanced at Fandorins medals and gave a little frown.

'I get rather carried away sometimes, and I think I have offended you. You and I have become involved in a stupid kind of puerile rivalry, and I was simply unable to deny myself the pleasure of having a little joke with you. The joke turned sour. I beg your pardon yet again. I knew about the despatch that your patron sent yesterday, in which he requested the sovereign to confirm your appointment as head police-master. Dolgorukoi's secretary, the quiet and inoffensive Innokentii Andreevich, spotted which way the wind was blowing a long time ago, and he has been of quite invaluable assistance to our party. Did you really think that I went back to the hotel to sleep after Briusov Square?'

'I never even g-gave it a thought,' Erast Petrovich said coldly, breaking his silence for the first time.

'You are offended,' Pozharsky declared. 'Well, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ah, forget about these foolish pranks. We're talking about your future here. I have had the opportunity to appreciate your exceptional qualities. You possess a keen intellect, firm resolve, courage, and also something that I value most of all in you: a talent for emerging from the flames without even singeing your wings. I'm a lucky man myself and I can recognise those who are favoured by fortune. Why don't we check to see whose luck is the stronger, yours or mine?'

He suddenly pulled a small pack of cards out of his pocket and held it out to the State Counsellor.

'Guess if the card on the top is red or black.'

'Very well, but put the p-pack on the table,' Erast Petrovich said with a shrug. 'Being too trusting in this game once nearly cost me my life.'

The prince was not offended in the least; in fact he laughed approvingly.

'Quite right. Luck is a lady; she should not be coralled into a corner. Well then?'

'Black,' Fandorin declared without even a moment's thought. Pozharsky pondered for a moment and said: 'I agree.' The top card proved to be the seven of spades. 'The next card is also black.' 'I agree.'

It was the three of clubs.

'Black again,' Erast Petrovich said patiently, as if he were playing a boring, infantile game with a little child.

'Unlikely that there would be three in a row ... No, I think red,' the prince declared - and turned over the queen of clubs.

'As I suspected,* Gleb Georgievich sighed. 'You are one of fortune's true darlings. I should have been sorry to lose such an ally. You know, from the very beginning I saw you as someone who was useful, but also dangerous. But now I no longer regard you as dangerous. For all your brilliant qualities, you have one immense shortcoming. You completely lack flexibility, you cannot alter your colour and shape to suit the circumstances. You are incapable of turning aside from the road already mapped out on to a roundabout side track. And so you won't be biding your time to stab me in the back - that is an art that you, of course, will never master, which suits me perfectly. And as for flexibility, there is a lot I could teach you about that. I propose an alliance. Together we could move mountains. It's not a matter of any specific position for you just yet - we can agree that later. What I need at present is your agreement in principle.'