Tulipov instandy breathed a sigh of relief. Anyone at all who knew the names of the St Petersburg correspondents could have sent a telegram from anywhere at all... Oh, and by the way. Don't call me "Your Honour"; we're not in the army, after all. First name and patronymic will do, or ... or just call me "Chief" - it's shorter and easier.' Fandorin smiled grimly at something or other and continued with the 'analysis'. 'Look here - we're getting somewhere. A certain cunning individual, who has simply found out the names of a few correspondents (which requires no more than leafing through the newspapers), sends off telegrams to the newspaper offices about the arrival of a German prince, and after that everything simply follows its own course. Reporters meet "His Highness" at the station, Russian Thought prints an interview, in which the honoured guest expresses extremely bold opinions on the Baltic question, categorically distancing himself from Bismarck's political line, and there you have it. Moscow is conquered, our patriots accept the duke with open arms. Ah, the press - how few people in Russia realise how powerful it really is ... Right, then, Tulipov; now we move on to our conclusions.'
When the Court Counsellor, or 'Chief, paused, Anisii felt afraid that he would have to draw the conclusions, and the poor courier's head was suddenly full of formless mist.
But no, Mr Fandorin managed without Anisii's assistance. He strode energetically across the study, clattered his beads rapidly and then clasped his hands behind his back.
'The membership of the Jack of Spades gang is unknown. There are at least three men involved: "Speier", the "Notary" and the "Duke". That is one. They are brazenly insolent, highly inventive and incredibly self-assured. That is t-two. There are no tracks to follow. That is three . . .' Erast Petrovich paused for a moment and concluded quietly, almost even stealthily: 'But there are certain clues, and that is four.'
'Really?' Anisii asked eagerly. He had been feeling dejected, expecting a quite different conclusion: This is hopeless, Tulipov, so you can go back to your courier's job.
'I think so. The "jacks" are firmly convinced that they have got away with it, and most likely that means they will want to play another prank or two. That is one. Even before this business with Lord Pitsbrook they managed to pull off two highly successful and extremely daring hoaxes. Both times they came away with plenty of money, both times they had the effrontery to leave their calling card, but they never even thought of gathering up their substantial trophies and leaving Moscow. So now ... Would you like a cigar?' The Court Counsellor clicked open the lid of an ebony casket standing on the desk.
Although, for reasons of economy, Anisii did not use tobacco, he could not resist and took one - the slim, neat, chocolate-coloured cigars looked so very appetising, with their red and gold labels. Imitating Erast Petrovich, he smacked his lips as he kindled the flame into life and prepared to experience a heavenly bliss that was the exclusive prerogative of rich gentlemen. He had seen cigars like this on Kuznetsky Most, in the window of Sychov's Colonial Shop - at one and a half roubles apiece.
'The next point,' Fandorin continued, 'is that the "jacks" use the same methods repeatedly. That is two. In both the business with the "Duke" and the episode with the "notary" they exploited the natural human propensity to trust the printed word. Well, all right, never mind His Lordship. The English are used to t-trusting everything that The Times p-prints. But look what fine informants our Moscow newspapers are ... First they inform the citizens of Moscow about "His Highness's" arrival, then they go on to create a ballyhoo and fill everyone's head with nonsense ... Tulipov, you don't inhale a cigar!'
But it was too late. Having completed his thoroughgoing preparations Anisii breathed in and filled his chest with the astringent
When the Court Counsellor, or 'Chief, paused, Anisii felt afraid that he would have to draw the conclusions, and the poor courier's head was suddenly full of formless mist.
But no, Mr Fandorin managed without Anisii's assistance. He strode energetically across the study, clattered his beads rapidly and then clasped his hands behind his back.
'The membership of the Jack of Spades gang is unknown. There are at least three men involved: "Speier", the "Notary" and the "Duke". That is one. They are brazenly insolent, highly inventive and incredibly self-assured. That is t-two. There are no tracks to follow. That is three . . .' Erast Petrovich paused for a moment and concluded quietly, almost even stealthily: 'But there are certain clues, and that is four.'
'Really?' Anisii asked eagerly. He had been feeling dejected, expecting a quite different conclusion: This is hopeless, Tulipov, so you can go back to your courier's job.
'I think so. The "jacks" are firmly convinced that they have got away with it, and most likely that means they will want to play another prank or two. That is one. Even before this business with Lord Pitsbrook they managed to pull off two highly successful and extremely daring hoaxes. Both times they came away with plenty of money, both times they had the effrontery to leave their calling card, but they never even thought of gathering up their substantial trophies and leaving Moscow. So now ... Would you like a cigar?' The Court Counsellor clicked open the lid of an ebony casket standing on the desk.
Although, for reasons of economy, Anisii did not use tobacco, he could not resist and took one - the slim, neat, chocolate-coloured cigars looked so very appetising, with their red and gold labels. Imitating Erast Petrovich, he smacked his lips as he kindled the flame into life and prepared to experience a heavenly bliss that was the exclusive prerogative of rich gentlemen. He had seen cigars like this on Kuznetsky Most, in the window of Sychov's Colonial Shop - at one and a half roubles apiece.
'The next point,' Fandorin continued, 'is that the "jacks" use the same methods repeatedly. That is two. In both the business with the "Duke" and the episode with the "notary" they exploited the natural human propensity to trust the printed word. Well, all right, never mind His Lordship. The English are used to t-trusting everything that The Times p-prints. But look what fine informants our Moscow newspapers are ... First they inform the citizens of Moscow about "His Highness's" arrival, then they go on to create a ballyhoo and fill everyone's head with nonsense ... Tulipov, you don't inhale a cigar!'
But it was too late. Having completed his thoroughgoing preparations Anisii breathed in and filled his chest with the astringent
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