upper eyelids, and a delicate mouth that lent him a vulnerable air despite his muscular heft.
“What’s your name?” Sano said.
“Wada,” the guard said, as if making a guilty admission.
“Don’t be afraid, Wada-san. I appreciate your coming to me,” Sano said.
They traveled some twenty paces before Wada said in an almost inaudible voice, “Family reputation is very important to my master. He loved his son and wants to preserve only the good memories of him.”
“But someone who cares less about appearances might reveal the truth about Lord Mitsuyoshi?” Sano suggested.
Wada hesitated, his gaze fixed on the ground as they walked. “My master has forbidden his family, retainers, and servants to talk to you. I don’t want to disobey him.”
And he certainly didn’t want to be punished, Sano thought. Was the man fishing for a bribe? Sano scrutinized Wada’s profile, but saw no avarice, only the worry of a man torn between loyalty and the desire to speak his mind. “Your ultimate duty is to the shogun,” Sano said. “His Excellency has ordered me to investigate Lord Mitsuyoshi’s murder, and you must cooperate by telling me everything you know that might be relevant.”
Wada’s frown relaxed, but he still looked perturbed. “My family has served the Matsudaira for five generations,” he said. “I was part of Mitsuyoshi-san’s retinue since the day he was born and looked after him all his life. He was as dear to me as a younger brother. I don’t want to lose my post, but I couldn’t bear it if the wrong man was punished for his murder and his killer went free because I kept silent.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to avenge Mitsuyoshi-san’s death,” Sano promised.
“Well…” Although Wada seemed reassured, hesitation inserted uneasy pauses between his words. “When Mitsuyoshi-san was very young, the clan’s fortune teller predicted that he would someday rule Japan. From that moment his life was a preparation for becoming shogun. His father hired teachers to make Mitsuyoshi-san study books and practice martial arts all day long, and priests to discipline his spirit. Eventually he was introduced to the shogun, who took a liking to him. It looked as if the prophecy would come true. So much was expected of him because he was going to inherit the regime… ”
“That he rebelled?” Sano said.
Nodding, the guard continued with reluctance: “He was a strong-willed boy. He craved adventure. When he was sixteen, he got tired of constant discipline and protection. He ordered me to help him sneak out of the castle. We would roam the town while his father thought he was studying. Mitsuyoshi-san loved the entertainment districts. He had good looks, charm, and money, and he made friends at the teahouses and gambling dens. Soon he discovered Yoshiwara, and the trouble started.
“One night when the shogun wanted his company, he was nowhere to be found. Lord Matsudaira learned he’d been visiting a courtesan. When Mitsuyoshi-san came home, they had a terrible argument. His father was furious that he’d disappointed the shogun and risked falling out of favor. Mitsuyoshi-san begged a little freedom in exchange for sacrificing himself to the clan’s ambitions. They both wanted him to be the next shogun, but Mitsuyoshi-san was the one who paid the price.”
Apparently, Mitsuyoshi had been the shogun’s sexual object, and disliked the role forced on him. “What happened then?” Sano said.
“The arguments continued,” said Wada. “Lord Matsudaira ordered Mitsuyoshi-san to dedicate himself to pleasing the shogun. Mitsuyoshi-san pursued his own enjoyment, and the shogun began to complain that he was never available when he was wanted. Eventually his father cut off his allowance so he couldn’t afford his habits.
“Mitsuyoshi-san began paying closer attention to the shogun because he didn’t want to lose his chance at the succession,” Wada said, “but we still went out together, to teahouses and brothels that often served him without payment because he was a Tokugawa samurai and the shogun’s favorite. But there was one place he ran into trouble. It’s a gambling den in Nihonbashi. The patrons are hoodlums and gangsters.”
Sano experienced the internal stir that signaled the advent of an important clue. “Did he lose money to them?”
Grimness hardened Wada’s features as he nodded. “He should never have gotten involved with them, but he loved the thrill of Edo ’s underside. He should never have put himself in their debt because they’re dangerous. The owner of the place is a wild, tough ronin who fears no one, not even the Tokugawa. One night while Mitsuyoshi-san and I were in town, he cornered us and demanded that Mitsuyoshi-san pay him and his friends their money. When Mitsuyoshi-san said he couldn’t, the ronin threatened to kill him unless he paid.”
Here, at last, was a possible suspect other than the three already executed. Elation flared in Sano. “When was the threat made?”
“About two months ago.” Wada pondered for a moment. “But even before Mitsuyoshi-san owed money, the ronin hated him. They had some sort of feud.”
“Did Mitsuyoshi-san pay what he owed?” Sano said as his excitement increased.
“Not to my knowledge.” After another pause, Wada said, “Even though Treasury Minister Nitta was convicted of the murder and now you’ve been accused of it, I can’t help wondering if the ronin was involved in Mitsuyoshi-san’s death.”
Nor could Sano. But there was still the matter of determining that the ronin could have killed Mitsuyoshi.
“I didn’t come forward earlier and tell you or the police about the ronin,” Wada said, “because I knew my master wouldn’t want his son’s reputation ruined. And later, when the treasury minister was convicted, I thought the killer had been caught and I needn’t speak.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
Sano couldn’t be angry at the guard for withholding information because he understood the code of loyalty that bound them both. He also understood the agonizing guilt Wada suffered because he’d violated that code for the sake of the truth.
“I want to make up for whatever trouble I’ve caused, by telling you everything I know, including one last thing,” Wada said earnestly. “The ronin was in Yoshiwara that night. When I went with Mitsuyoshi-san to the ageya for his appointment with Lady Wisteria, I saw the ronin in the crowd outside.”
Sano inhaled the fresh, invigorating atmosphere of joyous possibility; his heart soared because he now had a new suspect and a whole new line of inquiry.
“Who is the ronin, and where can I find him?” Sano said, wanting to fall on his knees and thank the gods for this new chance to prove he wasn’t a murderer or traitor.
“I can take you to the gambling den now, if you like,” Wada said, “but I don’t know the ronin’s proper name. Everyone calls him Lightning.”
29
The bathhouse where Yuya worked was located near a canal that ran through a slum in the Nihonbashi merchant district. Reiko peered out the window of her palanquin at ramshackle buildings where children flocked and screamed on balconies and old people huddled in doorways. Crowds of drab women separated to let the palanquin and Reiko’s mounted guards pass through a produce market. Bonfires of reeking garbage smoldered. The canal, a muddy stream that flowed sluggishly between stone embankments, teemed with houseboats. Beyond lay more ugly slums, blurred by smoke and sleety drizzle. Reiko smelled the powerful fishy stench of the canal and spied a roving gang of hoodlums carrying iron clubs. Stifling a shiver, she leaned out the window.
“Stop around the corner from the bathhouse,” Reiko ordered her escorts.
They obeyed. The procession halted, and the bearers set down the palanquin. Reiko pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and stepped out into the drizzle, hesitant to venture into such hostile territory. But if she wanted information that might save Sano, she must take a risk. The dagger strapped to her arm under her sleeve gave her confidence.
“Follow me at a distance,” she said to her guard captain. “Wait for me down the street from the bathhouse.” She thought Yuya might be more willing to talk if not intimidated by soldiers. “While I go inside, count quickly to five hundred. If I’m not out by then, come in and get me.
The captain bowed and nodded. Reiko set off alone, past archways that led to mazes of dank alleys in which buildings constructed of weathered planks and peeling plaster resounded with harsh babble from the inhabitants.
