“Tsarevich Nicholas has confessed everything. Once you learn what he has done, you will realize your own behavior toward our country has been greatly in the wrong.”
The Russians paused in confusion. Kanevsky cast a questioning look at Nicholas.
Nicholas rose solemnly to his feet. “I have no idea what they are referring to.”
The guards stood at attention, though clearly confused. Nicholas walked past them, and headed for the door.
Shevich turned toward Ito again. “How can you claim Japan is a nation of laws when the Chairman of the Privy Council himself intrudes upon our private property? This is the Russian legation! What could possibly drive you to—”
“Stop!” Chekhov shouted.
Everyone fell silent. All eyes had turned toward Chekhov. There were rivulets of sweat running down his face.
Chekhov stared at Shevich, his face grave. “I heard it all. Unlike in May, it was not His Imperial Majesty the Emperor’s will that we come here to call again for Sanzo Tsuda’s execution. Tsarevich Nicholas has acted alone. Mr. Holmes laid out the facts just now, and His Highness the Tsarevich admitted they were true.”
Shevich’s eyes widened. Nicholas was already on his way out of the room, but he stopped, no doubt feeling the stares of disbelief from behind him. He stood motionless, his back turned.
Chekhov continued. “I believe… It seems His Highness the Tsarevich has misunderstood some of Russian policy. The Siberian railway, for instance. Russia has given Japan permission to use it for trade. It was not built to facilitate an invasion.”
Anna began to speak as well, her voice high and flustered. “Grand Duke George is still senseless and incapacitated. In his grief, His Highness Tsarevich Nicholas has grown to resent Japan.”
“What are you saying?” Shevich was stupefied. “I don’t understand. What has happened to Grand Duke George?”
Ito’s jaw dropped in amazement. The ambassador didn’t know? Was he entirely unaware that Grand Duke George had posed as Nicholas to visit Japan?
It was possible, of course. Tokyo had been the only place Nicholas actually visited in person. He probably only met Ambassador Shevich during that portion of the trip.
And though Shevich undoubtedly rushed to Kyoto as soon as the Otsu incident occurred, by the time he arrived, Nicholas must have already taken George’s place in the sickbed.
Chekhov sighed. “The entire crew of the Pamiat Azova—the captain, the attendants, even the sailors—were in on this. We were forbidden from telling you the truth, Ambassador. That we travelled with His Highness Grand Duke George on official business for the past four months, that he is resting in Paris… It was all a lie.”
The color drained from Shevich’s face. “You expect me to believe this?! By the time of the attack His Highness Grand Duke George had already returned home. I was told so by the Emperor himself!”
“We were following His Imperial Majesty the Emperor’s orders! And His Highness the Tsarevich’s, as well!” Chekhov’s voice rose, and his red hair seemed increasingly disordered. “But we were wrong. We shouldn’t have!”
The room fell silent again. This time no one broke it. Everyone stared at Nicholas with bated breath.
Finally, Kanevsky drew himself up. He spoke in Russian, but his voice sounded tentative. He seemed to be asking Nicholas a question.
Nicholas continued to face away. His reply was clipped. The guards glanced at each other as he exited to the hallway.
Chekhov turned to Ito with a haggard look. “His Highness asked that they see the guests outside.”
Shevich and Kanevsky stared at each other, clearly at a loss.
Sherlock remained calm. “I called at the legation today to help correct your misunderstanding. You are of course welcome to reinstate our previous arrangement until such a time as reports of my death can be confirmed as false. I wish you a good day.”
He left the room smoothly.
“Ambassador,” Ito addressed Shevich. “My apologies for our sudden visit. I will take my leave now as well. Let us meet again in the coming days.”
The other man remained stunned. Chekhov and Anna seemed exhausted, but also clearly relieved. The two had shown true courage. Ito bowed deeply, before turning and walking out the door.
25
The next morning, Sherlock sat at breakfast with the Ito family. He had changed into his morning jacket before joining them at the low table. It was eccentric, but this arrangement was already becoming second nature to him.
“No!” Asako said. “Obasama is Japanese for ‘aunt.’ ‘Grandmother’ is Obaasama.”
Sherlock scowled as he worked his chopsticks. “I confess I do not see the difference.”
Ito smiled. “It is the length of the vowel, Mr. Holmes. The first vowel sound is held for a beat longer.”
Sherlock still could not hear the difference. It was a difficult difference for an English speaker. “How do you say mother?”
“Okaasama,” Ikuko said.
“Hmph. But don’t you call the gentleman across the way as Okasama?”
Asako and Ikuko glanced at each other and burst out laughing. “That’s Oka-san. Mr. Oka,” said Ikuko. “When being polite, you would address him as Oka-sama.”
“You mean they are the same? Mother and Mr. Oka?”
“No, not the same!” Ito’s daughters were still laughing when they were interrupted by a voice from outside, speaking Japanese in a foreign accent.
“Sumimasen!”
One of the servants trotted to the gate. A moment later he returned and approached the veranda. Umeko stood and spoke with him in Japanese.
“A Mr. Chekhov and Ms. Luzhkova are here, from the Russian legation,” she said, turning back toward the room.
The air of surprise was palpable. Ito rose to his feet. He and Sherlock put on their shoes at the front door and stepped outside.
Indeed, Chekhov and Anna stood outside the gate. Though they still had a timid air, they seemed calmer now than they had the day before. Ito asked them to enter the garden.
“Will you join us for breakfast?” he invited.
“No thank you,” Chekhov said, slowing his steps. “We are only stopping by on our way to work.”
“It seems very early. Is something wrong?” Sherlock asked.
The two Russians looked at each other before turning back. “We wanted to tell you our news in person. Once we return to Russia, Ms. Luzhkova and I will be resigning from the Ministry of State Property.”
Ito furrowed his brow. “Resigning? Can this be because of yesterday…”
Anna shook her head. “Not at all. Tsarevich Nicholas was angry, but Ambassador Shevich knows we are not to blame. We have chosen to resign of our own volition.”
Chekhov nodded. “Chairman Ito, Mr. Holmes, after your visit I feel as if a great weight has been lifted from our shoulders. It has truly been a relief.”
Sherlock thought he knew what they meant. Neither had said so much, but they must have felt a deep sense of guilt over their role in Nicholas’ deception. The two were sincere and retiring by nature—ill-suited to meet the weight of Nicholas’ expectations. But it was fortunate that, as a result, the truth had finally come to light.
“And you truly haven’t incurred Ambassador Shevich’s displeasure?” Ito wanted to confirm.
They smiled. “Ambassador Shevich says that the scales have fallen from his eyes,” Anna said. “He said that even if you are here to help establish an intelligence agency for Japan, he is grateful for being given the chance to learn of the truth. He wondered if he ought to express his thanks directly to Ambassador Fraser.”
“No need, I assure you,” Sherlock said quickly. “Thanks are unnecessary. Please advise Ambassador Shevich to maintain his distance where England is concerned. It is probably for the best that Russia and Britain remain rivals in the Far East, and that our legations stay on their toes when in one another’s presence.”