The Diamond Chariot (44 page)

They could see the wounded man moving, trying to get up. Then he did get up and hopped on one leg, but lost his balance and collapsed. He crept towards the water, leaving a trail of blood.

The most incredible thing of all was that he still didn’t look round even once.

When they were only about twenty paces away from the wounded man, he stopped crawling – clearly he had realised that he wouldn’t get away. He made a rapid movement – and a narrow blade glinted in the sun.

‘Quick! He’s going to cut his throat!’ the doctor shouted.

But that wasn’t what the
shinobi
did. He ran the blade rapidly round his face, as if he wanted to set it in an oval frame. Then he grabbed at his chin with his left hand, tugged with a dull growl – and a limp rag went flying through the air, landing at Erast Petrovich’s feet. Fandorin almost stumbled when he realised what it was – the skin of a face, trimmed and torn off; red on one side, with the other side looking like mandarin peel.

And then the man finally turned round.

In his short life, Erast Petrovich had seen many terrible things; some visions from his past still woke him at night in a cold sweat. But nothing on earth could have been more nightmarish than that crimson mask with its white circles of eyes and the grinning teeth.

‘
Kongojyo!
’ the lipless mouth said quietly but distinctly, opening wider and wider.

The hand with the bloody knife crept slowly up to the throat.

Only then did Fandorin think to squeeze his eyes shut. And he stood like that until the fit of nausea and dizziness passed off.

‘So that’s what “cutting off your face” means!’ he heard Dr Twigs say in an excited voice. ‘He really did cut it off, it’s not a figure of speech at all!’

Lockston reacted the most calmly of all. He leaned down over the body, which –God be praised – was lying on its stomach. Two holes in the kimono, one slightly higher, one slightly lower, exposed a glint of metal. The sergeant ripped the material apart with his finger and whistled.

‘So that’s what his magic is made of!’

Under his kimono, the dead man was wearing thin tempered-steel armour.

While Lockston explained to the doctor what had happened at the station, Fandorin stood to one side and tried in vain to still the frantic beating of his heart.

His heart was not racing because of the running, or the shooting, or even the ghastly sight of that severed face. The vice-consul had simply recalled the words that a husky woman’s voice had spoken a few minutes earlier: ‘Today you will kill a man’.

‘So Mr Fandorin was right after all,’ the doctor said with a shrug. ‘It really was an absolutely genuine ninja. I don’t know where and how he learned the secrets of their trade, but there’s no doubt about it. The steel plate that saved him from the first two bullets is called a
ninja-muneate
. The fire egg is a
torinoko
, an empty shell into which the
shinobi
introduce a combustible mixture through a small hole. And did you see the way he grinned before he died? I’ve come across a strange term in books about the ninja – the Final Smile – but the books didn’t explain what it was. Well now, not a very appetising sight!’

How fiercely I yearn
To smile with a carefree heart
At least at the last

EARLY PLUM RAIN

Doronin stood at the window, watching the rivulets run down the glass. ‘
Baiu
, plum rain,’ he said absentmindedly. ‘Somewhat early, it usually starts at the end of May.’

The vice-consul did not pursue the conversation about natural phenomena and silence set in again.

Vsevolod Vitalievich was trying to make sense of his assistant’s report. The assistant was waiting, not interrupting the thought process.

‘I tell you what,’ the consul said eventually, turning round. ‘Before I sit down to write a report for His Excellency, let’s run thought the sequence of facts once more. I state the facts and you tell me if each point is correct or not. All right?’

‘All right.’

‘Excellent. Let’s get started. Once upon a time there was a certain party who possessed almost magical abilities. Let us call him No-Face.’ (Erast Fandorin shuddered as he recalled the ‘final smile’ of the man who had killed himself earlier in the day.) ‘Employing his inscrutable art, No-Face killed Captain Blagolepov – and so adroitly that it would have remained a dark secret, if not for a certain excessively pernickety vice-consul. A fact?’

‘An assumption.’

‘Which I would nonetheless include among the facts, in view of subsequent events. Namely: the attempt to kill your Masa, the witness to the killing. An attempt committed in a manner no less, if not even more, exotic than the murder. As you policemen say, the criminal’s signatures match. A fact?’

‘Arguably.’

‘The criminal did not succeed in eliminating Masa – that damned vice-consul interfered once again. So now, instead of one witness, there were two.’

‘Why didn’t he kill me? I was completely helpless. Even if the snake didn’t bite me, he could probably have finished me off in a thousand other ways.’

Doronin pressed his hand against his chest modestly.

‘My friend, you are forgetting that just at that moment your humble servant appeared on the scene. The murder of the consul of a great power would be a serious international scandal. There has been nothing of the kind since Griboedov’s time. On that occasion, as a sign of his contrition, the Shah of Persia presented the Tsar of Russia with the finest diamond in his crown, which weighed nine hundred carats. What do you think,’ Vsevolod Vitalievich asked brightly, ‘how many carats would they value me at? Of course, I’m not an ambassador, only a consul, but I have more diplomatic experience that Griboedov did. And precious stones are cheaper nowadays … All right, joking aside, the fact is that No-Face did not dare to kill me or did not want to. As you have already had occasion to realise, in Japan even the bandits are patriots of their homeland.’

Erast Petrovich was not entirely convinced by this line of reasoning, but he did not object.

‘And by the way, I do not hear any words of gratitude for saving your life,’ said the consul, pretending his feelings were hurt.

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t mention it. Let’s move on. After the unsuccessful bit of theatre with the “creeping thing”, No-Face somehow finds out that the investigation has another strange, incredible piece of evidence – the prints of his thumb. Unlike Bukhartsev and – yes, I admit it – your humble servant, No-Face took this circumstance very seriously. And I can guess why. You drew up a verbal portrait of the man whom Masa saw at the Rakuen, did you not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does it match the description of your uninvited guest?’

‘Marginally. Only as far as the height is concerned – little over four foot six inches – and the slender build. However, in Japan that kind of physique is not unusual. As for all the rest … At the gambling den, Masa saw a doddery old man with a stoop, a trembling head and pigmentation spots on his face. But my old m-man was quite fresh and sprightly. I wouldn’t put his age at more than sixty.’

‘There now,’ said the consul, raising one finger. ‘The ninja were known to be masters at changing their appearance. But if Mr Folds’s theory is correct, it is impossible to change the prints of your fingers. The similarity of the prints on the collar and the mirror confirms that. But in any case, No-Face decided on a desperately audacious move – to destroy the evidence right there in the office of the chief of police. He tried to get away, but failed. It is curious that before he died he said: “
Kongojyo
”.’

‘Did I remember it correctly?’

‘Yes, “
Kongojyo
” means “Diamond Chariot”.’

‘What?’ the titular counsellor asked in amazement. ‘In what sense?’

‘This is not the time to launch into a detailed lecture on Buddhism, so I’ll give you a brief, simplified explanation. Buddhism has two main branches, the so-called Vehicles, or Chariots. Everyone who desires liberation and light can choose which of them to board. The Lesser Chariot speeds along the road leading to the salvation of only your own soul. The Greater Chariot is for those who wish to save all of mankind. The devotee of the Lesser Road strives to attain the status of an arhat, an absolutely free being. The devotee of the Greater Road can become a bodhisattva – an ideal being, who is filled with compassion for the whole of creation, but does not wish to achieve Liberation while all others are in bondage.’

‘I like the b-bodhisattvas best,’ Erast Petrovich remarked.

‘That is because they are closer to the Christian idea of self-sacrifice. I am a misanthropist and should prefer to become an arhat. I’m only afraid that I’m rather lacking in righteousness.’

‘And what is the Diamond Chariot?’

‘It is an entirely distinct branch of Buddhism, extremely complex and abounding in mysteries. The uninitiated know very little about it. According to this teaching, a man can attain Enlightenment and become a Buddha while still alive, but this requires a special firmness of faith. That is why the chariot is called diamond – there is nothing in nature harder than diamond.’

‘I don’t understand anything at all,’ Fandorin said after a moment’s thought. ‘How is it possible to become a Buddha and attain enlightenment, if you commit murders and other abominations?’

‘Well, let’s assume that’s no great problem. How many vile tricks do our holy sermonisers play on us, all in the name of Christ and the salvation of our souls? It’s not a matter of the teaching. I know monks of the Singon sect who profess the path of the Diamond Chariot. They work away, enlightening themselves without interfering with anyone. They don’t let anyone else into their business, but they don’t take any interest in anyone else’s. And they are not fanatical in the least. It is hard to imagine any of them cutting off his face with a howl of “
Kongojyo!
”. And, above all, I have never heard of this formula having any magical significance … You see, in Japanese Buddhism, it is believed that certain sutras or verbal formulas possess magical power. There is the sacred invocation “
Namu Amida Butsu
”, there is the Lotus Sutra, “
Namu-myoho-rengekyo
”. The monks repeat them thousands of times, believing that this advances them along the Path of the Buddha. Probably there is some fanatical sect that uses “
Kongojyo
” as an exclamation …’ Vsevolod Vitalievich spread his hands and shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, there is no way for a European to get to the bottom of these matters. We’d better get back to No-Face before we lose our way in the thickets of Buddhism. Let us check the sequence of events. Question: Why was Blagolepov killed? Answer: Because he was blabbing to all and sundry about his passengers from the night before. There doesn’t seem to have been any other reason to set a master of such subtle killing techniques on such a worthless little man. Correct?’

‘Correct.’

‘No-Face is a ninja, and history tells us that they are hired for money. It’s an entirely different question where a ninja could appear from in 1878 – perhaps now we shall never find out. But since a man has appeared who has decided to live and die according to the laws of this sect, then his mode of life must also have been the same. In other words, he was a mercenary. Question: Who hired him? Answer: We don’t know. Question: Why was he hired?’

‘To shield and guard three samurai from Satsuma?’ Fandorin suggested.

‘Most probably. Hiring a master like that must cost a great deal of money. Where would former samurai get that from? So there are serious players in the wings of this game, able to place stakes large enough to break the bank. We know who the bank is – it’s Minister Okubo. I shall write all this down in my report to the ambassador. I shall add that the owner of a gambling den is the leader, messenger or intermediary of the Satsuman killers. The Japanese police have him under observation and at the present time that is our only lead. What do you say, Fandorin. Have I missed anything in my analysis of the situation?’

‘Your analysis is perfectly good,’ the titular counsellor declared.

‘
Merci
.’ The consul raised his dark glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘However, my superiors appreciate me less for my analytical competence than for my ability to propose solutions. What shall I write in the summary of my report?’

‘Conclusions,’ said Fandorin, also walking over to the window to look at the leaves of the acacias swaying in the rain. ‘Four in number. The conspirators have an agent in police circles. That is one.’

Doronin shuddered.

‘How do you deduce that?’

‘From the facts. First the killer discovered that I had a witness to Blagolepov’s murder. Then someone warned the samurai about the ambush at the
g-godaun
. And finally the
ninja
knew about the thumbprints and where they were being kept. There can only be one conclusion: someone from my group, or someone who receives information about the course of the investigation, is connected with the conspirators.’

‘Such as me, for instance?’

‘Such as you, for instance.’

The consul knitted his brows together and paused for a moment.

‘Very well, the first conclusion is clear. Go on.’

‘The hunchback undoubtedly knows that he is being followed and under no circumstances will he contact the Satsumans. That is two. Therefore, we shall have to force the hunchback to act. That is three. However, in order to make sure there are no more leaks, the operation will have to be conducted without the knowledge of the municipal and Japanese police. That is four. And that is all.’

Having thought over what had been said, Doronin shook his head sceptically.

‘Well, so that’s the way of it. But what does “force him to act” mean? How do you envisage that?’

‘Semushi has to escape from surveillance. Then he will definitely go dashing to find his accomplices. And he will lead me to them. But to carry out this operation, I need approval to take independent action.’

‘What action, precisely?’