Page 42 of The Lost Future of Pepperharrow

Yokohama, 19th December 1888

The streets beyond Yoruji were exactly the tangled, cluttered kind that had looked so interesting in Tokyo. It was hard to tell what was a house and what was a restaurant, because all the windows were opaque paper, but as Thaniel walked – turning left at the man who did indeed have a cat on a lead – it became a bit clearer. You had to look for the steam. Tiny noodle shops that only seated a few people had opened their sliding doors out onto the street, and people in work clothes from the harbour ate fast at counters, or perched on old cargo kegs. Ladies in bandanas and aprons stood outside the bigger places, calling in the internationally familiar nasal tone of train announcers that people were welcome to come in. Thaniel nearly got herded into one just in time to see a chef swear and a basket of noodles go flying.

‘Or maybe not,’ the lady outside said cheerfully.

‘Fucking ghosts!’ the man yelled, and slung down his apron.

‘I’m hearing about ghosts everywhere,’ Thaniel said to her.

‘I know, it’s getting to be a real drag,’ the lady said. ‘All the exorcists are booked up. Come on in, everyone welcome …’

He found the post office on the next street. A grumpy, solitary clerk absolutely insisted that Thaniel was speaking English even though he never said a word of it. Overhead, the telegraph wires hummed busily. The package went safely on its way to Aokigahara.

Outside the post office, Thaniel almost walked straight into the man in the red coat, from Kuroda’s retinue. The man broke into a smile nearly as bright as his Fabergé egg button.

‘Ah, morning, mate,’ the man said. He had a lovely warm Osaka accent and Thaniel felt involuntarily at home, because as far as he could tell, Osaka was the Japanese version of York. ‘Going back to Yoruji? I’ll walk with you.’

‘No need,’ said Thaniel, who didn’t want to walk with someone who he’d last seen pointing a gun at Mori. ‘I know the way.’

‘Better safe than sorry. Things can be a bit rough for gaijin this near the docks. I’m Tanaka.’

‘Steepleton.’

‘I know. What did you send just now?’

Thaniel frowned. ‘Who wants to know?’

‘I do. I take an interest in what’s going in and out of any house where Count Kuroda is staying.’

‘Just presents home. Souvenirs.’

‘And that’s what I’ll find if I go and get it, is it?’

‘Good luck finding it,’ Thaniel said. ‘The clerk didn’t even look at it, he won’t be able to tell which it was.’

‘Marked England though, right?’

‘Nope,’ said Thaniel. He looked down at him. Tanaka was tall for this part of the world, but it was still distinctly down. ‘I’m not posting detailed reports on Mr Kuroda’s security arrangements to Whitehall, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

Without any warning, Tanaka slammed him against a wall and held a knife half an inch away from his eye. He didn’t lose the cheery manner. ‘It’s not the British I’m worried about, mate, it’s Mori. What did he put in that package?’

Thaniel punched him in the ribs, which made the knife drop a bit, then caught the back of his head and thunked it into the wall. And then suddenly there were policemen on either side of him with batons.

Tanaka was laughing. ‘You’re spicy. That was assault, though, lads; you saw, right?’

The policemen had seen. They must have seen Tanaka pull the knife as well, but they said nothing about it. Thaniel sighed and put his hands behind his head. He got a baton in the ribs anyway, but he’d known it was coming and it didn’t hurt as much as it could have. Twenty minutes later he was in a cold little cell at a police station near the harbour, feeling embarrassed.

He’d expected a wry-looking Mori to come and fetch him out, but it wasn’t Mori who came. A strange nervous silence fell among the policemen when Takiko Pepperharrow walked in. She was wearing riding boots and a Western coat, only mutedly glamorous in comparison to the incredible clothes she’d had before, and she asked politely for papers without any kind of flourish, but the policemen nearly panicked; they had no idea what to do with a woman and they hurried around her like gorillas trying to look after a duckling. She paid the inspector and then shepherded Thaniel out.

‘Just bribe them,’ she said once they were outside. She was speaking Japanese. A couple of policemen had come to the door to watch them leave. English must have been suspect. ‘You’re going to be arrested all the time, just carry round a few yen in your pocket for it. I’m sorry about Tanaka, he’s insane. Yakuza I think; you know, mafia. Kuroda collects insane people.’

‘Thanks,’ said Thaniel. ‘What do I owe you?’

She frowned, looking like the question had nearly hurt. ‘Nothing.’ She paused. ‘Are you all right? I expect they took the opportunity you give you a bit of a going over.’

‘I’m fine,’ he said, though his ribs did ache now.

‘I know you don’t like me, but let me make you a cup of tea. I knew we were all lunatic xenophobes but getting arrested in your first week for fighting back against a nutty yakuza thug is a bit much. It’s embarrassing.’