14
Sherlock bade Ito leave his advisors behind. They also travelled incognito in a plain carriage, without the imperial crest. Ito told the vice-chairman and chief secretary of the Privy Council that they were only slipping away for some amusement. From the look of discomfort on the vice-chairman’s face, Sherlock judged such behavior was not uncommon. Apparently there were no matters before the council today important enough to require the chairman’s presence.
Though he thought it only natural a major politician might feel uneasy travelling alone without guards, Ito exhibited no such qualms. He displayed the same boldness he had shown facing down those ruffians in Cheapside. He may have ascended to the highest rungs of government, Sherlock thought, but he had once been a feudal retainer. He exhibited a degree of courage you would expect from one who had led such an eventful life. Though of course, Ito was far from the only hard-nosed man in all of Japan.
“The Supreme Court of Judicature is equivalent to England’s High Court, if I am correct.” Sherlock sat next to Ito as the carriage jostled them from side to side. “The head of the court, Korekata Kojima, refused the request for a death penalty. He must be deeply devoted to the concepts of government based on the rule of law.”
Ito nodded. “Few men are as formidable as Judge Kojima. But that is also what makes him reliable. He has a point. The independence of the judiciary is vital to a strong government.”
“According to Mycroft, your power stretches even to the courts. I suppose even he was unaware that Japan had achieved a separation of powers.”
“I became head of the Privy Council in June, but regardless of my position, so long as Kojima is in office the Supreme Court is immune to influence. Should the fact that you faked your death and entered the country illegally become a problem in the judiciary, I would be powerless to protect you from Kojima. That is why I thought you should remain at my home, in hiding.” Ito added, “I hope my saying so does not make you feel apprehensive.”
“Of course not. This matter is of my own making. Fortunately we are here in the Far East, as that grants a reprieve.”
Ito sighed. “In truth, I feel divided on the matter. Before, I admitted that Kojima was right. But Russia is upset again, and we are back in the same predicament. I suppose I could call for Sanzo Tsuda’s execution once again…”
“But your conscience prevents you?”
“Yes. If I truly value the independence of the judiciary any such course would be abominable. Doubly so, as of late.”
“As of late? Explain.”
“More strongly than ever, I am aware of the importance of Japan becoming a constitutional state. Certainly more so, today.”
“But why more so today?”
Ito smiled. “Why indeed? You are always making inscrutable statements, I thought I might try my hand at it as well.”
Sherlock snorted. He detested questions he could not answer. But it was better to remain calm.
He could not help but feel troubled, however. “Ito…” he whispered, but then hesitated. “No, it’s nothing.”
“What is it? Ask me anything.”
“To place value on the independence of the judiciary is to place priority on the law…”
“Naturally.”
“Then, do you believe that even when the blackest of scoundrels is involved, taking the law into one’s own hands is inexcusable?”
“Are you asking if I think that instead of killing Moriarty, you ought to have had him arrested and brought to trial? The courts are the foundation upon which a country of law and order resides.”
“I see,” Sherlock said lowly.
“And yet,” Ito looked hard at him, “there were no judges involved in much of what I did during the fall of the Bakufu. Still, those involved recognized the necessity of such actions.”
“You refer to your clansmen in the Choshu Domain. I, however, have few such allies.”
“What of Mycroft and Dr. Watson?”
“Mycroft cares only for self-preservation. Watson alone is my friend.”
“Mr. Holmes,” said Ito good-naturedly, “my teacher when I was younger, Shoin Yoshida, once told me to take pride not in avoiding mistakes, but rather in correcting them.”
“But even if you believe you are correcting your mistakes, who is to say if you are in the right?”
“I suppose you have only your own judgment to rely on. But you are clever. I am sure that that alone is adequate.”
Though he had faltered earlier, Sherlock felt his equilibrium return. “Well, thank you,” he said softly.
“And thank you.” Ito smiled, suddenly. “Of course, I suppose such words are premature. I still expect you to save us from the brink of war.”
Sherlock could not stop himself from losing a bitter laugh. “Naturally. Leave it to me.”
The view outside the carriage window suddenly broadened to show a harbor spread across the horizon. It was not like the port he’d seen in Yokohama, but possessed a charm all its own.
The ocean sparkled beneath the muted autumn light. The waves gently lapped back and forth. Several Western-style buildings lined the beach, and the shoreline bustled with small fishing boats. Sherlock’s eyes were drawn to small islands that dotted the waters further out, each encircled by stone walls, and equipped with piers and docks for berthing.
“This area is known as Daiba,” said Ito. “Daiba means fort. The name comes from the batteries that once stood here. They were built in haste by the Bakufu to drive back Commodore Perry, but Perry passed by and landed at Yokohama instead.”
“I do not see any batteries now.”
“The waters near the coast in this area are shallow. Large ships would run aground. The man-made islands you see there were built for the batteries offshore. They are all suitable for berthing, and so have been repurposed to that effect.”
The carriage had to stop on a slightly elevated hill. Several other carriages had also lined up along the road, lending the area an impression of bustling prosperity. Sherlock alighted. The breeze carried to him the scent of the tide.
His attention was drawn out to the water. Nine relatively small armored ships equipped for steam and sail—so identical in appearance as to be indistinguishable—floated in the harbor. From their shape they appeared to be Russian. Three ships had drawn up to the artificial islands on their port side. Another three rose beyond, lined up in a similar column, and beyond those ships yet three more. The arrangement was similar to how new ships were unveiled during naval parades. Their majestic presences declared for themselves their monopoly of the ocean.
“The ships arrived about two days ago,” Ito explained. “Of the three berthed at the artificial island, the one at the front is the flagship, the Kondrat. The ship beyond that is apparently named the Kesar.”
“How does one distinguish between them?”
“Who can say? They are all much smaller than the Pamiat Azova, Tsarevich Nicholas’ imperial flagship. They are destroyers, possibly, but their finer capabilities are unclear.”
“What are the names of the other ships?”
“That is also unclear. The Russians are not allowing anyone near.”
“That is perplexing. It is like Perry’s black ships all over again.”
Ito’s voice was sullen. “Do you see now the danger we are in?”Sherlock strode forward without replying. He descended the hill, before veering toward the collection of Western buildings located along the beach. Ito came after, unsure as to his intentions.
This area was rounded in by a fence, and uniformed Russian naval officers stood near the gate. When Sherlock approached, two young soldiers barred his way.
He made a brief salutation. “Please fetch someone who can speak English,” he said.