The second attendant was Anna Luzhkova, aged 37. She was of noble birth, proficient in both English and French, and had previously worked as a university instructor before becoming employed, like Chekhov, in the Ministry of State Property. In the photo, her face was thin and unusually severe in appearance.
Attached to the dossiers were credentials attesting that the two had been selected as attendants by the court.
Ito signed the papers, and the counsel left by carriage. Half an hour passed. A new carriage arrived, and Collegiate Assessor Chekhov and Anna Luzhkova entered Ito’s office. They matched their photographs in every detail. Both were unassuming, but of the two Chekhov seemed the least reliable—at a glance, Sherlock could tell he was retiring and timid by nature.
He was gripped by a sinking feeling. He guessed that though Chekhov was surely diligent in his work, he was in all likelihood less than capable of acquitting himself deftly in the Tsarevich’s presence. His role as an attendant had, therefore, probably only been secondary.
Minutes into their interview, his fears were confirmed. The two had not even accompanied Nicholas to Japan!
Chekhov and Anna were not attendants to Nicholas so much as they were to his younger brother Grand Duke George. And it was this Grand Duke George who had contracted a cold and returned to Russia early in the trip. Apparently Chekhov and Anna had left with him, and accompanied the Grand Duke on his official duties inside Russia. They knew almost nothing of the Otsu incident in Japan.
Ito leaned against the back of his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “We have been fooled. These are indeed two of the attendants chosen by the court. They satisfy all of the stipulations that I signed earlier.”
Sherlock forced himself to hide his disappointment with a smile. “Shevich is very clever in his leveraging of documents, just as with his previous agreement with Foreign Minister Aoki. Of all people, I should have known better. I played right into his hands. We should have been more thorough and clearly stipulated for attendants who had followed Nicholas in Japan.”
Ito leaned forward to address the two attendants. It was a slim hope but still worth a try. “I suppose you two are our only option. Have either of you met with Tsarevich Nicholas since his return from Japan?”
Chekhov and Anna glanced at each other tentatively. They turned their eyes back toward Ito, and then shook their heads in tandem.
“Humph,” Sherlock snorted. He was appalled at his own foolishness. By the terms of their formal agreement, he was now forbidden from openly approaching Shevich.
“To tell the truth,” Chekhov interjected, shyly—he strongly resembled a previous client from the case of The Red-Headed League— “Miss Luzhkova and I were ordered to Japan only quite suddenly, last week. We were told to be off as soon as we boarded the cruiser. His Royal Highness, Grand Duke George, is vacationing in Paris, which left us both free. We were told that English speakers were required.”
Ito looked at Sherlock inquiringly. “For what reason, I wonder.”
“Whether there is war or a demand for land, there will be a prodigious amount of paperwork,” Sherlock said frankly. “International standards demand concurrent English and French translations. Every sentence, every word must be translated without fault, necessitating as many people familiar with all the languages as possible.”
Anna nodded. “We were told something similar before we came. The legal counsel at the legation would be doing a translation, and we were only to check whether or not it was correct.”
Shevich had given these two only as sacrificial pawns. “The younger brother, Grand Duke George?” Sherlock asked, discouraged. “Was he concerned over his brother’s injury?”
“Naturally,” Anna replied. “His Royal Highness Grand Duke George recovered from his cold shortly after returning home and resumed his duties directly. When news of the incident arrived he was extremely shocked and went to speak with the Emperor and Empress on the matter.”
“He was relieved to learn that Tsarevich Nicholas’ injury was not severe,” Chekhov tacked on. “And he was glad it had not ruined our relations with Japan.”
Sherlock looked at the civil servants. “But of late, tensions seem to have increased once more.”
Chekhov’s and Anna’s faces both grew clouded.
“To be frank, I do not know what to make of it,” Chekhov confessed, eyes wide. “Tsarevich Nicholas had been so fond of the Japanese, yet now…”
“He refers to them as monkeys?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “What could have caused such a change?”
Ito furrowed his brow and pounced. “I thought you hadn’t met with Tsarevich Nicholas since the incident?”
Chekhov blanched. He’d clearly fumbled. He looked to Anna for help. She let her head fall forlornly.
Sherlock leaned forward with a hint of hope in his chest. “Please, the truth. You have met with His Highness, haven’t you?”
“We were given strict warnings to speak of nothing outside the tour…” Anna began.
“Miss Luzhkova, you evidently wish to tell us the truth. I will ask more directly. Tsarevich Nicholas was on the ship during your recent passage, was he not? On the Laskar?”
Chekhov and Anna looked shocked. Chekhov withdrew a handkerchief and began dabbing the sweat from his brow. “You know so much… Chairman Ito, Mr. Holmes, will you promise to keep this between us?”
“Most certainly.”
He lowered his voice. “It’s true, His Imperial Highness the Tsarevich is aboard the Laskar. The two of us… Miss Luzhkova and I… we were told nothing of the matter. We were most astonished when we saw His Highness.”
“And did you speak with Tsarevich Nicholas?”
“No. You see, we are not particularly in His Highness’ favor. He is usually surrounded by his own followers, and especially during this trip he was in constant conversation with several military officers.”
“Did you overhear any of what they said?”
“I did. I passed the room they were in several times. Only…” Chekhov broke off mid-sentence, and it was clear, with his apologetic side-glance at Ito, why he hesitated.
Ito was unfazed. “Do not hesitate on my account. Whatever you heard, please feel at liberty to repeat it.”
“As you wish.” The man sounded dubious. “Well, on the day we left Vladivostok, I was headed to the materials compartment to return a book. The door had been left ajar and I saw His Highness Tsarevich Nicholas inside. He was with the Laskar’s captain, Matinsky, as well as Commander Narozhilenko. The Tsarevich was shouting. He said that the ‘yellow monkeys are dangerous,’ and if we do not deal with them now it will soon be too late.”
“I overheard His Highness as well, while in my bed in my sleeping quarters,” Anna added fearfully. “He used the word ‘monkeys’ several times, and spoke of Japan’s people as barbaric and deceitful.”
Chekhov sighed. “I hardly believed it. The last time I had met the Tsarevich was during the tour, before His Highness Grand Duke George fell ill. His Highness had been most courteous and kind. While we were in Egypt and India, he even mentioned several times how much he was looking forward to visiting Japan and his hope we would leave for there soon. Then there were the letters from his trip, with the photographs he had taken with the geisha. According to his writing, he found no country as enchanting as he did Japan.”
Ito groaned. “After the Otsu incident, an outpouring of concern and contrition came from our country’s citizens. We heard that His Highness was grateful for the messages. Was that a lie?”