thought this cooperation between government and gangsters boded ill for the future.
'Well, now Jirocho is a possible witness in a crime rather than the perpetrator,' Sano said. 'Marume-san, you and Fukida-san will go to the stables and track down our oxcart driver. Hirata-san, you can question Jirocho and his daughter. I'll take the nun.'
The Zj Temple district was a city within the city, home to forty-eight subsidiary temples, the Tokugawa mausoleum, and thousands of priests, nuns, monks, and novices. The high stone walls of Keiaiji Convent shut out the noises from the marketplace, the traffic of pilgrims and peddlers in the streets, and the chanting of prayers in nearby monasteries. Pine trees cleansed the air in spacious grounds landscaped with mossy boulders and raked white sand. The large building resembled a samurai mansion rather than the typical convent in which nuns lived in cramped, impoverished austerity. The abbess received Sano in a room furnished with a pristine tatami floor and a mural that showed Mount Fuji amid the clouds.
'I've come to inquire about Tengu-in, your nun who was kidnapped,' Sano said.
The abbess wore a plain gray hemp robe, the uniform of Buddhist holy women. Her head was shaved; her scalp glistened with a thin fuzz of silver hair. She was as short and sturdy as a peasant, with broad features set in a square face and an air of authority.
'Ah, yes. It was a dreadful thing to happen,' she said. 'And to such a virtuous woman, yet.'
Sano inferred from her hushed tone that the nun had been raped as well as kidnapped. 'My condolences to her, and to you and her sisters,' he said. 'It must have been very upsetting for everyone here.'
The abbess shook her head in regret. 'Yes, indeed, especially since Tengu-in was such a favorite.'
Her use of the past tense didn't escape Sano. Had her community ostracized Tengu-in because she'd been violated? 'Is she still here?'
'Yes, of course,' the abbess said. 'She's a member of our order for life. What happened to her doesn't change that.'
But the abbess's manner suggested that she'd become an unwanted burden, Sano thought.
'Tengu-in has been with us for eight years,' the abbess said. 'She joined our order after her husband died. They had been married for forty-five years.'
Widows often did join convents, sometimes because they were devoutly religious, sometimes because their husbands' deaths left them impoverished and homeless. Tengu-in must be in her sixties, Sano deduced. That someone would kidnap and rape a woman who was not only a nun but so elderly!
'Her husband was a high-ranking official in Lord Kuroda's service,' the abbess went on. 'She came to us with a very generous dowry.'
That explained how the order could afford such a nice home. When a rich woman entered a convent, she brought with her gold coins, silk robes, and expensive artifacts. This order had been lucky to get Tengu-in.
'But that isn't why we were so fond of her,' the abbess hastened to say. 'She is a good woman. She never expected special treatment because she was from high society. She always had a kind word for everyone.'
Sano pitied Tengu-in, who hadn't deserved to suffer any more than Chiyo had. 'Exactly where was she kidnapped?'
'Outside the main temple. Some of our nuns had gone there to worship. She got separated from the group. When it was time to go home, they couldn't find her. All of us looked and looked, and I reported her missing to the police.'
Those circumstances sounded ominously familiar. 'Where did she turn up?'
'Outside the temple's main gate, early in the morning,' the abbess said. 'Some monks found her. They brought her back to the convent.'
Sano thought of the oxcart seen in the alley where his cousin had been dumped. 'On the day the nuns went to Zj Temple, were there any oxcarts in the area?'
'They didn't mention it.'
'What about near the gate on the day Tengu-in was found?'
'I don't know. But there has been work done on the temple buildings lately.'
The government supported religion and had probably furnished oxcarts to bring supplies for repairs to the temple. 'The reason I'm interested in Tengu-in is that the same thing recently happened to my cousin. I suspect that the same man is responsible for both crimes. I want to catch him, and I need Tengu-in's help. May I speak with her?'
'I'm afraid she won't tell you anything. She hasn't even told me. She's very upset.'
'That's understandable,' Sano said, 'but I must insist. She may be my only chance of catching the criminal.'
'Very well.' The abbess rose and said, 'I'll take you to her. But I beg you not to expect too much.'
13
Jirocho the gangster boss lived in Ueno, one of Edo's three temple districts. Ueno was situated in the northeast corner of the capital, known as the unluckiest direction, the 'devil's gate.' Its temples were supposed to guard the city from bad influences, but evil existed there as well as every place else.
At first glance Jirocho's street was no different from any other in an affluent merchant quarter. Between the neighborhood gates at either end stood rows of large two-story houses with tile roofs, their entrances recessed beneath overhanging eaves. Four men loitered, smoking pipes. A casual observer would never suspect that one of Edo's notorious gang bosses lived here. But Hirata, riding up the street, spotted the signs.
The men were tattooed with blue and black designs that showed at the edges of their collars and sleeves. Once the tattoos had been used by the authorities to brand outlaws; now they were insignias that represented wealth, bravery, and other desirable traits. They declared which clan a gangster belonged to and were worn as proudly as samurai crests.
When Hirata dismounted outside the largest house, the gangsters converged on him. 'Looking for something?' one gangster said. His manner was devoid of the respect usually shown by a commoner to a samurai. The tattoo on his chest depicted a dragon, symbol of Jirocho's clan. He was probably one of its low-level soldiers.
'I want to see Jirocho,' Hirata said.
'What makes you think Jirocho would want to see you?'
'Tell him Hirata is here.'
They froze at the sound of Hirata's name: His reputation had spread into the underworld. Gangsters hated to admit they were afraid of anybody; they would kill on the slightest provocation, and they fought savagely with rival gangs, but they were more inclined toward self-preservation than the samurai who constantly challenged Hirata. These four gangsters chuckled as if they'd been playing a joke on him. Three pretended an interest in reloading their pipes. The other ambled into the house. Soon he reemerged and beckoned Hirata inside.
Led down a corridor, Hirata saw rooms where gang members lounged, awaiting orders from their boss. They eyed him, silent and hostile. A group of them knelt in a circle, playing hana-fuda-the flower card game. They wore their kimonos down around their waists, displaying their tattoos. One man threw down his cards. The others laughed and exclaimed, 'Ya-ku-za!'
Eight-nine-three. It was the worst hand possible, but the gangsters seemed to feel an affection for it. Maybe they thought it symbolized their no-good selves, Hirata speculated.
His escort left him in a reception room. The tatami floor mats were bound with embroidered ribbon and so thick that they felt like cushions under Hirata's feet. The mural on the wall depicted a garden of brilliantly colored flowers beside a blue river highlighted with ripples of silver and gold paint. Black lacquer screens sported gold-inlaid birds. Brass lanterns suspended from the ceilings dangled gold pendants. Shelves held a collection of gold figurines. Hirata got the message: Jirocho was filthy rich. But he hid his wealth behind closed doors. Not even a top gangster boss dared violate the sumptuary laws that prohibited commoners from flaunting their wealth.
Two women brought refreshments to Hirata. They were as beautiful and stylishly dressed as the most expensive courtesans in the Yoshiwara licensed pleasure quarter. They wordlessly served the tea and food and departed. Hirata listened to the gangsters talking and joking at their card game. His keen ears also picked up the sound of distant sobs.
