The Fire Kimono

22

Police Commander Yamaga and the doshin surrounded the guests at the inn and started badgering them with questions. Sano said to Hirata, “Let’s go.”

As he and Hirata and his troops strode out the gate to the street and mounted their horses, he added, “I doubt the killer is among the guests. He’s probably long gone by now, and people who’ve been drinking all night don’t make good witnesses. We’ll leave them to Yamaga and look for better ones elsewhere.”

Along the street, travelers accompanied by porters carrying baggage trickled out from the other inns. At either end of the street was a gate. Choosing at random, Sano led his entourage to the one on his right.

“Were you on duty last night?” Sano asked the watchman.

“No, master, my shift just started.”

“Where can I find the man who was?”

The night watchman, a teenaged peasant boy, was fetched. Sano asked him, “Did anyone come through here last night?”

“Yes, master.”

When Sano asked who, the watchman said, “Do you mean before or after closing?”

Neighborhood gates in Edo closed two hours before midnight, before the party at the inn had ended and Egen had died. The closing enforced a curfew that kept troublemakers confined and crime down. Tokugawa law forbade anyone to break curfew and pass through the gates-with certain exceptions. “After,” Sano said.

“Two samurai on horseback,” said the watchman. The police, the army, and government officials were authorized to bypass the gates after closing. “I let them in, and a little while later, I let them out.”

Sano revised his mental picture of the crime to include two men, one kneeling on Egen’s chest and holding him down, the other suffocating him with the pillow.

“What did they look like?” Sano asked.

“I couldn’t see them very well.” The watchman eyed the small lantern hanging from the roof of the gate. “It was dark.”

“Did they wear any crests?”

The watchman nodded and pointed at the gold flying-crane crests on Sano’s sleeves. “Ones like yours.”

Sano was disconcerted until he realized what had happened. “They impersonated my men,” he said to Hirata.

“Following Lord Matsudaira’s orders, no doubt,” Hirata said.

“Where did they go?” Sano asked.

The watchman pointed left down the cross-street. Sano, his troops, and Hirata rode along the suspects’ trail from gate to gate, rounding up and questioning watchmen. Some provided more details besides the crests. “They were excited,” said the man who guarded a street of shops that led to the Nihonbashi Bridge. “They were laughing and punching each other and saying, ‘We got away with it!’”

“They deliberately called attention to themselves,” Sano remarked to Hirata as they and their troops rode to their next stop. “They made sure nobody missed them.”

“Lord Matsudaira got double the use out of the tutor,” Hirata said. “The first time to implicate your mother in a murder, the second time, you. Clever.”

Near the border between the merchant district and the official quarter, a watchman said, “One of the soldiers had teeth like this.” He thrust forward his jaw to feign an overbite. “And the other walked like this.” He slouched his shoulders and loped.

Sano experienced a twinge of unease. He frowned because the suspects’ descriptions hit a chord in his memory.

“What?” Hirata asked.

“I’ve seen those soldiers before,” Sano said, “but I can’t place them.”

“But it’s obvious where they were going,” Hirata said.

Sano’s unease only grew as he and Hirata rode to the castle and up to the head of a line of people waiting to enter the main gate. They dismounted, and Sano said to the guards, “Show me the record of who came through last night.”

The guards fetched the ledger. Sano scanned the list of names and stopped at two. The written characters seemed to fly off the page at him. He felt a thump in his chest as if he’d been punched.

“‘Ishikawa’ and ‘Ejima,’” Hirata read over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

The names joined the descriptions with an audible collision in Sano’s mind. “I know those soldiers.”

He could picture them now, guards on the night shift in his compound. They patrolled together. He had so many retainers that he didn’t know all their names and recognized few as his unless they wore his crest, but these men’s distinctive appearance as a team had registered in his memory.

“They really are mine.”

The revels in the Ginza theater district were in full swing. Playgoers ignored the danger of fire and crowded into buildings whose fronts displayed colorful posters that advertised the dramas and actors. Singing, shouts, laughter, and applause emanated from the buildings. Drums pulsed and music drifted toward the outskirts of the district, where Yoritomo galloped on horseback down a quiet side street. He wore a cloak that concealed his face. He reined his mount to a stop outside a teahouse with red lanterns hanging from its eaves and hurried inside.

A few customers played cards and drank wine. They had blue tattoos that covered their arms, legs, and necks like a second skin, mark of the gangsters. The maid eyed Yoritomo and pointed toward a door at the back.

In the living quarters behind the teahouse, Yanagisawa paced the floor and smoked his tobacco pipe. He recognized his son’s footsteps coming down the passage and muttered, “At last!” He flung open the door and pulled Yoritomo into the room. “What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry to make you wait, Father,” Yoritomo said, abashed.

“What’s the matter-did you have something more important to do than answer my call of distress?”

“I had a hard time getting away from the shogun. He’s nervous lately, with all the trouble going on. He clings to me like a barnacle.” Yoritomo hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

Yanagisawa regretted losing his temper. “No, I’m the one who should apologize.” His son was the only person who could make him regret bad behavior. “Forgive me. I’m a bit on edge after what I went through today. It’s not your fault.”

“What happened?” Yoritomo asked worriedly.

Yanagisawa explained about his close call at the temple. “After Captain Nagasaka and his troops left, the priests pulled me out of the well and smuggled me into Edo inside a trunk. They bribed the checkpoint guards not to search it.” Yanagisawa flexed his muscles, which were stiff from the uncomfortable ride. “I disguised myself as a beggar and I walked here.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Yoritomo said with relief.

“My accommodations are a far cry from the guest cottage at the temple.” Yanagisawa’s gaze scorned the cramped room with its bare walls, the worn straw mattress on the dirty floor.

“Couldn’t you use one of your other hiding places?”

Yanagisawa had them all over town-in mansions, hillside villas, and daimyo estates that belonged to his allies. “I couldn’t get to them. Lord Matsudaira has doubled his efforts to capture rebels. The city is full of troops stopping and questioning people. I couldn’t take the chance of running into someone else who would recognize me. I had to go to ground as quickly as possible.”

“Are they taking good care of you here?” Yoritomo asked.

“Good enough.” Yanagisawa’s hosts had brought him food, drink, new clothes, and weapons. “One thing I have to say for gangsters: They can get you whatever you need, as long as you have the money to pay.” Which Yanagisawa did, because he’d escaped the temple with his emergency stash of gold. “But I’m stuck in this Pit.”

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Tell me the news,” Yanagisawa said.

“I’m happy to report that maybe you won’t have to hide much longer.” Yoritomo described how the tutor had incriminated Sano’s mother, the shogun had sent her to Edo Jail, and Sano had a mere two more days to exonerate her before she and he were both put to death. He said with a mixture of triumph and regret, “Chamberlain Sano is on his way down.”

“That’s not good enough. Even if Sano fails, I may not survive very long.”

The sound of horses’ hooves pounding up the street outside froze Yanagisawa and Yoritomo. They waited in fear that troops had come to conduct a door-to-door search for rebels. The noise passed and faded. They let out their breath.

“Sano isn’t my biggest problem,” Yanagisawa said.

“Lord Matsudaira has gained allies at Sano’s expense,” Yoritomo agreed.

“Destroying Sano is necessary, but it won’t put me back on top,” Yanagisawa said. “It’s Lord Matsudaira’s turn for a little trouble.”

“Those soldiers must have been recruited to work for Lord Matsudaira,” Sano said as he and Hirata rode through the passages inside Edo Castle. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. If my allies are defecting, why not my troops?”

Still, he was shocked and saddened. Lord Matsudaira had gained ground even within his personal army, within his household. How many more men had his rival suborned?

“They should commit seppuku,” Hirata said. That was the usual punishment for a samurai who betrayed his master.

Sano nodded. “First I’ll hear what Ishikawa and Ejima have to say for themselves.”

When he arrived at his compound, he was disconcerted to find a crowd gathered outside the gate, some thirty Tokugawa soldiers. “What’s going on?” he asked.

They met his angry bewilderment with stolid gazes: Their superior had deserted his camp and they no longer need answer to Sano. The gate opened, and out marched General Isogai. “Greetings, Honorable Chamberlain,” he said with insolent courtesy.

“What is this?” Jumping off his horse, Sano demanded, “Why were you trespassing on my property?”

“Not trespassing.” General Isogai’s smile reminded Sano that he, as the supreme commander of the Tokugawa army, had free run anywhere in Japan, and his fealty to Sano had ended. “But since you ask, I came to make an arrest.”

Behind him emerged more troops, leading Ishikawa and Ejima. The two men looked terrified but defiant. Ishikawa’s jutting lower teeth gnawed his upper lip. Ejima held his stooped shoulders as high as he could. When they caught sight of Sano, their eyes wouldn’t meet his. Sano and Hirata glanced at each other in alarmed confusion.

“Why are you arresting my men?” Sano asked.

“For the murder of Egen the tutor,” General Isogai said.

Sano sensed a disastrous picture forming, but its details were as fragmented and unclear as a reflection in wind-rippled water. “How did you know about the murder? How do you know whether they had anything to do with it or not?”

“We got a tip.”

“Don’t tell me,” Hirata said. “The tip was anonymous.”

General Isogai shrugged.

“Anonymous tips are going around like a plague lately,” Sano said as the picture came into focus. Someone had framed him for Egen’s murder, then sent the police to the scene and pointed General Isogai to the men who’d supposedly acted on his behalf. Sano doubted it was Ishikawa and Ejima, two youths not bright enough to mastermind such a scheme. “You can’t arrest my men on the basis of hearsay.”

“I can arrest whomever I want,” General Isogai said, backed by the shogun’s authority. “Besides, your men have admitted they killed Egen on your orders. We didn’t even have to torture them into confessing.”

Sano was shocked: They’d committed the biggest violation of honor that a samurai could and given themselves up without a fight. He pushed past the troops that surrounded Ishikawa and Ejima and faced them angrily.

“You know I never ordered you to kill anyone. Why did you say I did? How could you betray me?” he said, even more hurt than enraged.

The men looked at the ground, too frightened or ashamed to answer.

At the sound of rapid hoof beats in the passage, everyone turned to see Lord Matsudaira and his entourage ride up. Lord Matsudaira wore an air of predatory anticipation. “I received your message,” he told General Isogai. “Why did you summon me?” He saw Sano, realized that something bad had happened to him, and smiled. “What have we here?”

“It’s the result of your work,” Sano retorted. “Why pretend you don’t already know?”

“The tutor who testified against Chamberlain Sano’s mother has been murdered,” General Isogai said. “Chamberlain Sano’s men did it for him. I’ve arrested them.” He pointed at Ishikawa and Ejima. “They confessed.”

Lord Matsudaira chuckled maliciously and said to Sano, “Well, that’s like closing the stable door after the horse has escaped. Why kill the witness when he’s already told his tale?”

“To punish him,” General Isogai suggested.

Lord Arima was among the Matsudaira entourage, watching the drama with a pleasure that shone through the oil in his skin. He said, “That’s understandable, but you’ve only made things worse for yourself, Chamberlain Sano.”

“The shogun won’t be pleased to hear that you assassinated the man who told the truth about his cousin’s murder,” said Lord Matsudaira.

“This is your doing, not mine,” Sano said, trying to control his fury.

“You paid off the tutor,” Hirata said. “He threw himself a last party on your money before he died.”

“You subverted my men and ordered them to kill him,” Sano said.

Lord Matsudaira and Lord Arima studied Sano with curiosity as well as scorn. Lord Arima said, “You seem to believe what you’re saying. You’re a better actor than I thought.”

“Either that or you’re deluded. I wouldn’t waste my time stealing the dregs of your army.” Lord Matsudaira’s scorn included Ishikawa and Ejima as well as Sano. “I’m not responsible for the murder or for their actions.”

“I’m going to prove you are,” Sano declared.

“You won’t have a chance,” Lord Matsudaira said. “We’re going to bring your men in front of the shogun to repeat their confession for him. That will be the end of you.”

Events were moving too fast for Sano to think of anything to do except forestall what seemed inevitable. As General Isogai’s troops began marching the two men off, Sano blocked their way. His troops and Hirata took up positions around him.

“You’re not taking them anywhere,” Sano told Isogai. “They’re my retainers. I’ll deal with them as I see fit.”

“If you want to resist, by all means do.” Lord Matsudaira’s smile dared Sano to draw his sword inside Edo Castle, a violation of the law for which the penalty was death by seppuku. The troops from the army and the Matsudaira entourage advanced on Sano and his men. Sano had two choices: He could play into Lord Matsudaira’s hands, or live to fight another day.

Sano, and his men, reluctantly stepped aside. Lord Matsudaira looked pleased because he’d won a round, yet disappointed because Sano hadn’t given him the excuse to kill him on the spot.

General Isogai signaled his troops, who propelled Ishikawa and Ejima toward the palace. “Come along if you like, Honorable Chamberlain. Or are you too much of a coward to face the truth and the consequences?”