Boris Akunin - Murder on the Leviathan

‘No one will dare to take from the rajah’s grandson what is his by right!’ Mme Kleber declared, with her hands set on her hips. I am a Belgian subject and the court hearing will take place in Brussels. All I need to do for the jury to decide in my favour is to promise that a quarter of the inheritance will be donated to charitable work in Belgium … A quarter of the inheritance is eleven billion Belgian francs, five times the annual income of the entire kingdom of Belgium!’

Miss Stamp laughed in her face: ‘You underestimate Britannia, my dear. Do you really think that your pitiful Belgium will be allowed to decide the fate of fifty million pounds? With that money we shall build hundreds of mighty battleships and triple the size of our fleet, which is already the greatest in the world. We shall bring order to the entire planet!’

Miss Stamp is an intelligent woman. Indeed, civilization could only benefit if our treasury were enriched by such a fantastic sum. Britain is the most progressive and free country in the world. All the peoples of the earth would benefit if their lives were arranged after the British example.

But Dr Truffo was of a different opinion entirely. ‘This sum of one and a half billion French francs will not only finance France’s recovery from the tragic consequences of the war with Germany, it will allow her to create the most modern and well-equipped army in the whole of Europe. You English have never been Europeans. You are islanders!

You do not share in the interests of Europe. M. de Perier, who until recently was the captain’s second mate and is now in temporary command of the Leviathan, will not allow the shawl to go to the English. I shall bring M. de Perier here immediately, and he will place the shawl in the captain’s safe!’

Then everyone began talking at once, all trying to shout each other down. The doctor became so belligerent that he even dared to push me in the chest, and Mme Kleber kicked Miss Stamp on the ankle.

Then Fandorin took a plate from the table and smashed it on the floor with a loud crash. As everyone gazed at him in amazement, the cunning Byzantine said: ‘We shall not solve our problem in this way.

You are getting too heated, ladies and gentlemen. Why don’t we let a bit of fresh air into the salon - it has become rather stuffy in here.’

He went over to the windows on the leeward side and began opening them one by one. When Fandorin opened the window above the side table on which the shawl was lying, something startling happened: the draught immediately snatched at the featherlight material, which trembled and fluttered and suddenly flew up into the air. Everyone gasped in horror as the silk triangle went flying away across the deck, swayed twice above the handrails - as if it were waving goodbye to us and sailed off into the distance, gradually sinking lower and lower. We all stood there dumbfounded, following its leisurely flight until it ended somewhere among the lazy white-capped waves.

‘How very clumsy I am,’ said Fandorin, breaking the deadly silence. ‘All that money lost at sea! Now neither Britain nor France will be able to impose its will on the world. What a terrible misfortune for civilization. And it was half a billion roubles. Enough for Russia to repay its entire foreign debt.’

That was when things really started hotting up.

With a war cry halfway between a whistle and a hiss that made my skin crawl, Mme Kleber grabbed a fruit knife from the table and made a mad dash at the Russian. The sudden attack caught him by surprise.

The blunt silver blade swung through the air and stabbed Fandorin just below his collarbone, but I do not think it went very deep. The diplomat’s white shirt was stained red with blood. My first thought was: God does exist, and he punishes scoundrels. As he staggered backwards, the villainous Byzantine dodged to one side, but the enraged Fury was not satisfied with the damage she had inflicted, and taking a firmer grip on the handle, she raised her hand to strike again.

And then our Japanese colleague, who had so far taken no part in the discussion and remained almost unnoticed, astonished us all. With a piercing cry like the call of an eagle, he leapt up almost as high as the ceiling and struck Mme Kleber on the wrist with the toe of his shoe.

Not even in the Italian circus have I ever seen a trick to match that!

The fruit knife went flying into the air, the Japanese landed in a squatting position and Mme Kleber staggered backwards with her face contorted, clutching her injured wrist.

But still she would not abandon her bloodthirsty intent! When she felt her back strike the grandfather clock (I have already written to you about that monster), she suddenly bent down and lifted up the hem of her dress. I was already dazed by the speed of events, but this was too much. I caught a glimpse (forgive me, my sweet Emily, for mentioning this) of a slim ankle clad in a silk stocking and the frills of a pair of pink pantaloons, and a second later when Mme Kleber straightened up a pistol had appeared out of nowhere in her left hand. It was very small and double-barrelled, finished with mother-of-pearl.

I do not dare repeat to you word for word exactly what this creature said to Fandorin - in any case you probably do not know the meaning of such expressions. The general sense of her speech, which was most forceful and expressive, was that the ‘rotten pervert’ (I employ euphemisms, for Mme Kleber expressed herself rather more crudely) would pay for his lousy trick with his life. ‘But first I shall neutralize this venomous yellow snake!’ cried the mother-to-be: she took a step forward and fired at Mr Aono, who fell on his back with a dull groan.

Mme Kleber took another step and pointed her pistol straight at Fandorin’s face. I really do never miss,’ she hissed. ‘And I’m going to put a bullet right between those pretty blue eyes of yours.’

The Russian stood there, pressing his hand to the red patch spreading across his shirt. He was not exactly quaking with fear, but he was pale all right.

The ship heeled over harder than usual - a large wave had struck it amidships - and I saw that ugly monstrosity, Big Ben, lean further and further over, and then … it collapsed right onto Mme Kleber!

There was a dull thud as the hard wood struck the back of her head and the irrepressible woman collapsed flat on her face, pinned down by the heavy oak tower.

Everyone dashed across to Mr Aono, who was still lying on the floor with a bullet in his chest. The wounded man was conscious and kept trying to get up, but Dr Truffo squatted down beside him and pressed on his shoulders to make him lie back. The doctor cut open his clothes to examine the entry wound and frowned.

‘It is nothing,’ the Japanese said in a low voice through clenched teeth. ‘The lung is barely grazed.’

‘And the bullet,’ Truffo asked in alarm. ‘Can you feel it, my dear colleague? Where is it?’

‘I think the bullet is stuck in the right shoulder blade,’ replied Mr Aono, adding with astonishing composure, ‘The lower left quadrant. You will have to section the bone from the back. That is very difficult. Please forgive me for causing you such inconvenience.’

Then Fandorin said something very mysterious. He leaned over the wounded man and said in a quiet voice: ‘Well now, Aono-san, your dream has come true - now you are my onjin. I am afraid the free Japanese lessons will have to be cancelled.’

Mr Aono, however, seemed to understand this gibberish perfectly well and he even managed a feeble smile.

When the Japanese gentleman had been bandaged up and carried away on a stretcher by sailors, the doctor turned his attention to Mme Kleber.

We were jolly surprised to discover that the solid oak had not smashed her skull, but only given her a substantial bump on the head. We pulled the stunned criminal out from under London’s finest sight and moved her to an armchair.