The Cloud Pavilion

8

The rising sun shone pale and diluted through storm clouds as Sano left his compound with Detectives Marume and Fukida and his entourage. As they rode along the passage, water dripped from the eaves of the covered corridors atop the stone walls, onto their wicker hats and straw rain capes. Their horses' hooves splashed in puddles on the paving stones. High above them, far beyond Edo Castle, rain obliterated the green eastern hills outside the city. The pealing of temple bells echoed, then quickly faded, as if drowned by the humid summer air.

Sano and his men came upon another procession of mounted samurai, led by Yanagisawa. "Good day, Sano-san," Yanagisawa said. He and Sano exchanged polite bows. "I was sorry to hear about what happened to Major Kumazawa's daughter Chiyo."

He sounded genuinely concerned and sympathetic, but Sano's guard went up at once. "News travels fast," Sano said. He took for granted that Yanagisawa kept abreast of his business; he did the same for Yanagisawa. But Sano was alarmed by how efficient Yanagisawa's informants were.

"News travels especially fast when it concerns the uncle and cousin of a man as important as yourself," Yanagisawa said.

He was also aware of the relationship between Sano and the Kumazawa clan, Sano observed. "What other facts do you have stored up in case they should come in handy?" Sano said in a light, jocular tone.

Yanagisawa responded with a pleasant smile. "Not half as many as you do, I'm sure. I assume you're on your way to hunt down the person who perpetrated this crime against your clan?"

"You assume correctly." Sano wondered if Yanagisawa had planted a spy inside the Kumazawa estate because he'd figured Sano would eventually show up there.

"Well, I wish you the best of luck," Yanagisawa said. "And I'll be glad to help, if you like."

Memories flickered through Sano's mind. He saw himself and Yanagisawa rolling in the dirt together, locked in mortal, savage combat. He heard Yanagisawa howling for his blood. Yanagisawa's current behavior was truly perplexing.

"I'll keep your offer in mind," Sano said. "Many thanks."

They bowed, said their farewells, and rode in opposite directions. Fukida glanced over his shoulder and said, "He wants to help? How about that?"

"Maybe a rat can change its whiskers," Marume said, "but he's got a trick up his sleeve, mark my word."

"Obviously," Sano said.

"What are you going to do?" Fukida asked.

"I'm going to stop relying on spies who can tell me what Yanagisawa ate for breakfast but can't find out what's in his mind," Sano said. "It's time to bring in an expert."

Escorted by a squadron of guards, Reiko rode in her palanquin through the district south of Edo Castle, where the daimyo and their hordes of retainers lived. Her bearers carried her down wide boulevards thronged with mounted samurai, past the barracks that enclosed each huge, fortified estate. Rain began to patter on the roof of Reiko's palanquin as her procession stopped at the gate house of the estate that belonged to the lord of Idzuma Province. Lieutenant Tanuma said to the guards, "The wife of the honorable Chamberlain Sano is here to see the wife of Captain Okubo."

The guard opened the gate and called someone to announce Reiko's arrival. Reiko had read the Kumazawa clan dossier and knew that Chiyo was a lady-in-waiting to the daimyo's womenfolk. She hoped Chiyo was receiving good care here.

After a brief interval, a manservant put his head out the gate, spoke with the guard, and shook his head. The guard told Lieutenant Tanuma, "Sorry, Captain Okubo's wife doesn't live here anymore. She's staying at her father's house in Asakusa."

Sano and his entourage rode across Nihonbashi, the bridge that had the same name as the river it spanned as well as Edo's merchant quarter. The bridge was jammed with traffic. Porters carried trunks for samurai traveling in palanquins; peasant women armed with market baskets jostled begging priests and children; foot soldiers patrolled. Below them, barges floated on the murky brown water. Wharves stacked with lumber, bamboo poles, vegetables, and coal occupied shores lined with ware houses. Drizzle hung so thickly in the air that it muted the sounds of seagulls shrieking, oars splashing, and voices raised in laughter and argument. The wet atmosphere intensified the stench from the fish market at the north end of the bridge. Sano scanned the crowds, looking for Toda Ikkyu, the master spy.

Earlier, he'd stopped in the chambers within Edo Castle that housed the metsuke, the Tokugawa intelligence service. A secretary had informed him that Toda was working at the bridge. He knew from experience that Toda was hard to pick out of a crowd. Toda was so ordinary in appearance, so utterly lacking in distinctive features, that Sano could never remember what he looked like even though they'd known each other for more than a decade. Neither could most other people. That was an advantage in Toda's line of work.

As Sano eyed the faces of samurai who passed him, he thought of what he'd learned from Toda's dossier some months ago. Toda had begun his life as a sutego-an abandoned child, one among legions that roamed the cities. No one knew who his parents were. Toda had fended for himself by stealing. One night, when he was twelve, he sneaked into the estate of a rich daimyo. There he lived for three months, filching food from the kitchen, sleeping under the raised buildings. The daimyo's men noticed things missing and found traces of Toda, but they couldn't catch him until the dogs cornered him. They brought him before the daimyo.

"I can use a boy with your talents," the daimyo had reportedly said. "From now on you're in my service."

He put Toda to work spying on his retainers, reporting any hint or act of disloyalty. This went on for ten years, during which Toda was granted the rank of samurai. Then the daimyo ran into financial trouble; he couldn't pay the cash tribute required by the shogun, Tokugawa Ietsuna. He presented Toda to the shogun and said, "A good spy is worth more than any amount of money, and this young fellow is the best."

So the legend went. Toda had risen within the ranks of the metsuke until he became the chief spy. To him and his subordinates belonged much of the credit for keeping the Tokugawa regime in power.

Now Sano heard a voice call, "Greetings, Honorable Chamberlain Sano. Are you looking for me, by any chance?" He saw a samurai who appeared to be Toda, leaning against the bridge's railing. Toda was ageless, his body neither tall nor short, fat nor thin, his face composed of features seen on a million others. He wore the ubiquitous wicker hat and straw rain cape, and an expression of world-weary amusement that was vaguely familiar.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Sano jumped off his horse and joined Toda; his men halted; traffic streamed around them. "I'm not interrupting any secret operation, am I?"

"Not at all," Toda said. "I haven't done much of that since Lord Matsudaira's death. Things have been quiet lately. I'm just conducting school."

"What kind of school?" Sano asked.

"For the next generation of metsuke agents. Political strife will flare up again eventually, and we'll need new spies who know the craft."

Sano looked around. "So where are your students?"

"They'll show up soon. What can I do for you?"

"I want you to put Chamberlain Yanagisawa under surveillance," Sano said.

Interest enlivened Toda's expression. "Why? Have you reason to believe he's plotting against you?"

"Only that he's been too nice for too long."

"Indeed he has. As I said, things are quiet." Toda added, "I must tell you that Yanagisawa already has us spying on you."

"That doesn't surprise me," Sano said. Yanagisawa was far more careful of potential rivals than Sano had ever been.

"And since I've told you about his spying, I also have to tell him about yours, just to be fair."

"That doesn't surprise me, either." Sano knew that the metsuke had to serve all the top officials in the regime, keep them happy, and offend none. That was how Toda and his kind rode the shifting tides of political power. "Do what you must."

"Wouldn't you rather use your own men?" Toda said, hinting that they were more trustworthy than himself.

"They're on the job, too."

"But they've come up empty, and that's why you're calling on us," Toda said, wisely superior.

"I might as well deploy all the ammunition at hand." Although Sano couldn't entirely trust Toda, he'd run out of other options. "Begin your surveillance today. Handle it personally."

"I assure you that my agents are trained and competent."

"But you're the best."

Humor crinkled Toda's eyes. "Flattery is nice, but what I would really like-"

His gaze suddenly moved past Sano and sharpened. He called, "Kimura-san! Ono-san! Hitomi-san!"

Three people walking across the bridge stopped abruptly. One was a stout woman with a shawl that covered her hair and a basket over her arm. One was a water-seller carrying wooden buckets that hung from a pole across his shoulders. The other was a filthy beggar dressed in rags.

Toda beckoned, and the three lined up before him. "How did you know it was us?" said the woman. She pulled down her shawl, revealing a shaved crown and hair tied in a samurai topknot.

"That's not a bad costume, Kimura-san, but you walk like a sumo wrestler," Toda said. "Nobody on the lookout for a spy would mistake you for a woman." He turned to his other students. "Hitomi-san, your buckets are too light; I could tell they're empty. Don't be so lazy when you're on a real job. It'll get you killed. And you, Ono-san," he said to the beggar. "I saw a merchant throw a coin on the ground, and you didn't pick it up. A samurai like you wouldn't because it's beneath you, but a real beggar would have."

The students hung their heads. Toda said, "You all fail this lesson. Go back to the castle."

They slunk off. Sano said, "Ah, a class on secret surveillance."

"Weren't you a little harsh on your boys?" Marume called from astride his horse. "I didn't see through their disguises."

"You weren't paying attention," Toda said. "But you should be. You might miss someone who's stalking your master."

Marume looked chastened. A chill passed through Sano. Did Yanagisawa plan to assassinate him? Was he acting friendly because he knew Sano wouldn't be around much longer?

"What I would really like," Toda said, resuming their conversation, "is for you to ensure that if there's a political upheaval and you come out on top, I'll survive and prosper."

That was a fair deal as far as Sano was concerned. "Find out what Yanagisawa is up to, and I will."