Houses Full of Deceit

Chapter IV: Around the World in Two Months

My experience is that when Aunt Agatha wants you to do a thing you do it, or else you find yourself wondering why those fellows in the olden days made such a fuss when they had trouble with the Spanish Inquisition. -- P. G. Wodehouse, Extricating Young Gussie

"Wonderful. Nothing would suit me better."

"I'm sorry, did you expect us to magically step from Japan to England in a single day?"

Colman adjusted his new hat. "Of course not, but I also didn't expect two months of your company."

"At most," Yo-han corrected him. "I see no reason it should take more than a month and a half. Phileas Fogg did it in less than that."

"Phileas Fogg was fictional."

They had safely arrived in Yokohama, Colman had seen a doctor, and now they were in a hotel under false names and planning their journey to England. There was only one problem. One rather large problem that geography had seen fit to place in their path, known as the United States of America.

Yo-han went over his notes again. "Thirteen days from Yokohama to San Francisco. Three days from San Francisco to New York. Five days from New York to London. Weather permitting, but the shipping office didn't say they were expecting any delays."

Colman still didn't look happy. Yo-han stared at him for a minute, then closed the notebook.

"All right, what's wrong?"

"Nothing! ...Nothing. Really." Colman poured himself another cup of tea.

That was the least convincing denial he'd ever heard.

"It's only... I'm a wanted criminal in America."

In hindsight Yo-han should have thought as much. "Whose passport are you using? That American attaché's?"

"No, I thought that would be too obvious when he was meant to come to Japan anyway. I have several passports in my suitcase." Of course he did. Yo-han didn't know why he was surprised any more. "The one I'm using is..." Colman fished it out of his pocket. "Frederick Wimsey of Blackpool, England. Occupation: journalist. Born on— Good god. How did I make that mistake? According to this I'm forty-six. Do I look it?"

Yo-han would be lucky if he didn't look forty-six by the time they got on their boat. "No. If anyone asks, say it's a mistake. Is Frederick Wimsey, journalist, a wanted criminal in America?"

"He couldn't be when he doesn't exist," Colman said with a hint of asperity. "He was a character I played in a very silly show a few years ago."

"So you have nothing to worry about as long as you use this passport."

Yo-han picked up the newspaper and pretended to be very interested in an article about a case of grievous bodily harm in a local restaurant. Colman got the message and fell silent.

The newspaper was printed in both English and Japanese for the benefit of the hotel's guests. Yo-han scanned the other articles idly. Someone had fallen off a horse in the middle of a race. Scientists were arguing over a newly-discovered fossil. More riots in America. A Brazilian shipyard was in financial difficulties. Pilots claimed it would soon be possible to fly over the Atlantic.

He turned to the shipping forecast. It was beside the letters, adverts, and other information people felt like sending in. He found this week's expected sailing times for the Yokohama–San Francisco steamer next to someone offering a reward for a lost dog. A little further down the page were a series of baffling personal adverts, beside a list of the steamers going between Osaka and Shanghai.