Shame combined with his sorrow over losing his life, forming a huge, wordless ache that consumed Raiden. A sob rose in his throat; he swallowed it. As a last gesture to the samurai code of bravery, he waited with stoic resignation for an end to his suffering. At least the evil demon would die with him.
The men lifted him from the litter and bound him to the cross. Grunting with the effort, they raised it in a series of dizzying jerks.
Raiden found himself upright, facing the river. Severed heads on tall pikes dotted the bank. Corpses dangled from the two crosses beside his. Mist hung over the brown water, where a few fishermen watched silently from their boats. Raiden took one last look at the world. He closed his eyes and waited.
The executioner’s ear-shattering yell.
A spear thrust into his chest.
A wave of agony to end all agony.
Raiden screamed as it swept him away. He heard his blood pounding in his head, a great red pulse that quickly began to fade.
He saw the wrestling ring that had formed the boundaries of his life, and the faceless opponent. He was falling, falling out of the ring. At the last moment, he seized the demon and dragged it with him. He felt a burst of victorious joy. Then nothing.
Chapter 19
Sano returned to Edo only five days after he’d left, but to him it seemed as though an eternity had passed.
As he rode, sad and travel-weary, through the bright afternoon streets, he saw with surprise that the New Year season had arrived. Housewives and merchants swept dirt out their doors, cleaning their houses and shops in preparation for New Year’s Day, just three days away.
“Devils out! Fortune in!” they chanted.
Bedding aired on balconies and clotheslines. Moneylenders’ shops did a brisk business as customers paid off the Old Year’s debts. Pine boughs, bamboo stalks, and plaited paper ropes decorated every entrance. Rice cakes balanced on the lintels of doors and windows, placed there to bribe evil spirits to go elsewhere. In the marketplace, shoppers crowded around the stalls, buying holiday foods that they must prepare before New Year’s Day, when no cooking was permitted. Mochi vendors pounded glutinous rice into the dense, pasty cakes that everyone would give and receive in great numbers. A cheery exuberance pervaded the city as its inhabitants anticipated the biggest festival of the year: Setsubun, New Year’s Eve.
The holiday atmosphere didn’t penetrate Sano’s leaden misery. Never had his favorite festival meant so little to him. His solitary journey had given him too much time to brood. The urn containing Tsunehiko’s ashes, which he’d picked up on his way back through Totsuka, made a bulky lump in his pack that served as a constant reminder of all he must do. He had to catch a murderer and avenge his friend’s death without sullying his family’s honor. And he must solve the mystery behind Lady Niu’s efforts to stop his inquiries, while avoiding further attacks by the mysterious watcher. Now, more than ever, he needed to persuade Magistrate Ogyu to let him continue the investigation-and allow him to question young Lord Niu.
Sano’s mouth twisted in a bitter grimace. What chance had he of succeeding? Ogyu, who had so zealously protected the Nius, wouldn’t rejoice when he learned of Sano’s visit to Midori. But without her statement, Sano had no case against Lord Niu. He would have to tell Ogyu about Hakone.
As soon as he entered the outer office of the magistrate’s mansion, he knew something was wrong. All the clerks, messengers, and servants abruptly stopped working to stare at him. Sano paused in the doorway. Embarrassment spread a hot flush over his face. His ears rang in the silence. Then, just as quickly, everyone bent to their tasks, their voices lower than before, eyes averted.
The chief clerk spoke from his desk without looking up from his ledgers. “You are wanted in Magistrate Ogyu’s reception chamber, Yoriki Sano-san.”
With apprehension tensing his muscles, Sano walked through the corridor to the reception chamber’s door. He hesitated there, hearing low conversation within cease at his approach. He took a deep breath and knocked.
“Enter,” Ogyu’s voice called.
His mouth dry and his hands clammy, Sano opened the door. He swallowed hard when he saw the three men kneeling, two to the right and one to the left of Ogyu’s desk.
Bowing, he said, “Good day, Honorable Magistrate. Hayashi-san. Yamaga-san. “ And to the broad man with bold features who sat by himself on Ogyu’s left, the last person in the world he wanted to see right now: ”Good day, Katsuragawa-san.”
What did the presence of the two yoriki mean? And, more important, what was his patron doing here? He hadn’t seen Katsuragawa Shundai since the visit he’d paid with his father.
The men returned his greeting with solemn formality. Ogyu motioned for Sano to kneel. Sano did, trying to read the four carefully expressionless faces.
“After much consideration,” Ogyu said, “I have decided that you were correct about Niu Yukiko and Noriyoshi.”
Sano blinked in surprise. “You have?”
“Yes. They did not commit shinjū. They were murdered.”
In his relief and elation, Sano didn’t think to ask why Ogyu had changed his mind. He thought only of the ease and joy of conducting an official investigation instead of an unofficial one. He imagined all the city’s doors opening to him. With Ogyu’s capitulation, the largest obstacle in his path to the truth had vanished. Already bursting with plans, he started to thank his superior.
“Honorable Magistrate, I-”
Ogyu raised a hand, silencing him. “Because you were absent from your post, I had no choice but to turn the investigation over to Yamaga-san and Hayashi-san. They will explain to you what has transpired.”
It was all Sano could do to keep his composure as he turned to face his colleagues. The investigation for which he’d risked and suffered so much, turned over to someone else! A terrible sense of loss burgeoned inside him.
“After making the appropriate inquiries, we had the wrestler, Raiden, arrested,” Yamaga said. “Yesterday he was convicted of murdering Niu Yukiko and Noriyoshi. Early this morning, he was executed.”
“No.” Horrified, Sano turned an incredulous stare on Ogyu and Katsuragawa. Ogyu’s expression remained impassive;
Katsuragawa’s watchful. “This can’t be. What inquiries? What makes you think Raiden killed them? What’s going on here?”
Hayashi cleared his throat. “Raiden confessed,” he said.
Sano laughed, a loud, harsh sound that made his colleague flinch. “Well, of course he did!” he shouted, remembering the tortured prisoner he’d seen at Edo Jail. “But I want to know what proof you had that he murdered anyone. Come, tell me about these so-called inquiries!”
“You dare insult me?” Hayashi’s face reddened. He started to rise, reaching for his sword.
Sano rose, too. Much as he abhorred useless violence, he would gladly have taken out his anger on Hayashi if Ogyu hadn’t interceded.
“Please, please.” The magistrate shook his head. “Let us not squabble like children.” To Sano he said, “Did you yourself not identify Raiden as a suspect?”
Sano, sinking to his knees again, understood now. Ogyu was still protecting the Nius; he’d merely switched tactics. How better to close the investigation than by arresting, convicting, and executing a scapegoat? And Sano had delivered that scapegoat straight into Ogyu’s hands. Yamaga and Hayashi had probably chosen Raiden over Kikunojo out of reluctance to offend the actor’s high-ranking patrons. The lowly Raiden had had no such protection. With growing despair, Sano felt the blood of another death upon his hands.