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.
“I never believed Raiden was the killer,” he protested. His defense could no longer help the wrestler, except to clear his name, but he couldn’t let Ogyu close the investigation with the real killer still at large.
“Raiden told his jailers he didn’t remember committing the murders,” Hayashi said coolly, his anger under control now. “Which only means that the madness that prompted his crime also allowed him to conveniently forget it.”
The words gave Sano pause. Maybe Raiden’s “demon” had made Raiden kill, then forget. Could he have been so wrong? Had Tsunehiko died because he’d failed to see Raiden’s guilt and arrest him before the fatal trip?
“Raiden wasn’t the only one Noriyoshi blackmailed,” Sano said, fighting doubt and guilt by stubbornly sticking to his theory. “He had no reason to kill Niu Yukiko. And I think I know who did.”
“Mere supposition,” Yamaga scoffed. Hayashi murmured in agreement.
Although Sano was reluctant to reveal more of his findings after seeing how they’d just used his earlier ones, he needed the magistrate’s official sanction. Quickly he explained what he’d learned in Hakone. “I believe young Lord Niu merits scrutiny,” he finished. “And I should start by determining whether he or one of his men followed me to Totsuka and killed my secretary.”
Prudence kept Sano from accusing Ogyu outright of covering up for the Nius. To give in to the angry urge to demand explanations, to vent his fury in an outburst, would only offend his superior. He would have to be satisfied with laying out his guilty secrets and dangerous theory. With forced resignation, he waited for the reprimand he knew would come.