Chidori regarded Hirata anxiously. “What if Lightning comes back? What if he finds out I told on him?”
“Don’t worry. He won’t be back,” Hirata said, determined to apprehend the man before he could do more harm.
After thanking Chidori for her help, he gathered his companions. They left the ageya and hurried down Nakanocho. The night sparkled with light, sizzled with the smells of cooking, resounded with gay music from teahouses. Ever more attuned to the past, Hirata followed the route that Lord Mitsuyoshi’s killer must have taken out of Yoshiwara. He could almost see ghostly footsteps on the road. When he and his party reached the gate, Hirata found the same guards he’d questioned during his first inspection of the crime scene.
“I want to talk about the night Lord Mitsuyoshi died,” Hirata said. “Tell me again who left Yoshiwara after curfew.”
“Treasury Minister Nitta,” said the lean guard.
Hirata was more interested in the others he’d disregarded while Nitta had been the focus of his inquiries. “Who else?”
“The oil merchant Kinue,” said the swarthy guard.
“And the Mori gangsters,” added his companion.
A flare of elation lit within Hirata. “Was one of the Mori gang a man named Lightning?”
“I don’t know,” the lean guard said.
“They’re thieves, brawlers, and killers,” the swarthy guard said. “It’s best not to know them.”
“The one I mean is short and muscular, with eyes that are always moving,” Hirata said.
The lean guard said, “That sounds like the leader.” His companion nodded.
Hirata’s elation flared higher because the guards had confirmed his theory that the gangsters were the friends Chidori had said always accompanied Lightning. Now that he’d linked them to Lady Wisteria and the murder, they represented a new chance to solve the case and exonerate Sano.
“Did they say anything to indicate where they were going?” Hirata asked. The Mori had lairs scattered all over Edo. When the guards shook their heads, he said, “Tell me exactly what you saw them do.”
“They came up to the gate,” said the swarthy guard.
“They were moving fast, shoving their way through the crowds,” said the other.
“The leader had his arm around one of the others-a boy who looked drunk.”
“He was pale and stumbling over his feet, and his eyes were closed. The leader held him up and whispered to him as they came near us. But I couldn’t hear what he said.”
“Then he ordered us to let the gang out. When we told him it was too late, he threw some coins at us and said, ‘Now open the gate.’
“So we did. And the gangsters hurried out.”
“They got on their horses. The leader helped the drunk boy into the saddle and climbed up behind him. They all rode away.”
Hirata felt a victorious swell of enlightenment as he fitted a crucial missing link into the sequence of events associated with Lord Mitsuyoshi’s death. He grew certain that both his luck and the investigation had taken a positive turn.
“I just remembered something,” the lean guard said. “When the Mori came into Yoshiwara early in the evening, I counted nine of them. But when they left, there were ten.”
“The tenth person was Lady Wisteria,” Hirata said, summarizing his discoveries for Sano and Reiko. “She was Lightning’s drunken boy.”
Sano nodded, accepting a cup of tea that Reiko handed him. Temple bells tolled midnight as they sat together in his office; coals hissed in the brazier. “It all fits,” he said. “The red cloth and the hairs by the dressing table in Wisteria’s room at the ageya, the fact that we couldn’t find any witnesses who saw her leave the quarter. She signaled Lightning to come. She cut her hair and put on male clothing to disguise herself as a boy. She walked right out of Yoshiwara with the Mori gang, and no one recognized her.”
Satisfaction and fresh hope banished the despair Sano had felt last night, even though the cloud of suspicion still hovered over him. Today’s discoveries were a ray of light that penetrated the nightmare he’d been living since the shogun accused him of murder and treason.
“What I learned this morning confirms that Wisteria escaped with the gangster,” Reiko said, her face aglow with excitement. She described her visit to Yuya the bathhouse prostitute. “Yuya wouldn’t tell me the name of the man who owns the bathhouse and brought Wisteria there, but she said, ‘Lightning strikes during storms,’ and mentioned gangsters. I didn’t know what she meant then, but now I understand that Yuya was giving me a hint. The man must be the same lover who sneaked into Wisteria’s room the night of the murder and took her away.”
“Now we know Lightning was involved in Lord Mitsuyoshi’s death, and one place where he and Wisteria hid.” As Sano beheld Reiko and Hirata, gratitude for their perseverance and loyalty overwhelmed him. “Thank you,” he said in a voice gruff with emotion.
He bowed to them, and they bowed back. After an awkward silence, Sano said, “Here’s additional evidence that Lightning is the killer,” and told Reiko and Hirata about his conversation with Mitsuyoshi’s retainer. “According to Wada, Lightning threatened to kill Mitsuyoshi if he didn’t pay his gambling debts, and they were enemies. Lightning had a motive for murder, as well as the opportunity.”
“He could have killed Wisteria, too,” Reiko said. “According to Yuya, they got into a terrible fight at the bathhouse. Maybe she took him to Fujio’s cottage to hide, they argued again, and he beat her to death.”
“The Mori are vicious beasts,” Hirata said. “When I was a police officer, I saw teahouse girls they attacked, and shopkeepers murdered for resisting extortion. A woman falls in love with one of them at her own peril.”
The mounting evidence that Wisteria was dead eroded Sano’s hope of finding her alive. He said, “We must find Lightning. Wada has already taken me to his gambling den. He wasn’t there. The place was shut down, and I spent the day trying to pick up his trail, without luck. But I can send men to watch the bathhouse in case he shows up there again. Right now he represents our best chance of solving the case.”
And Sano’s life might depend on capturing Lightning. “That he’s been identified as a member of the Mori gang is fortunate for us,” Sano said, “because we know where to start looking for him tomorrow.”
31
Edo ’s central fish market awoke to life before dawn. When Sano arrived early the next morning, fishermen had already moored their boats at the bank of the canal that ran beneath the Nihonbashi Bridge and begun unloading their catch. Dealers, servants from daimyo estates, and restaurant owners yelled bids. Inside the cavernous building that sheltered the market, porters hauled barrels of live, squirming fish to the stalls. Vendors arranged their wares and greeted hordes of customers. Sano trod paths already slick with slime and scales. Although women busily mopped and scrubbed, a powerful miasma of rotting fish tainted the air.
Sano approached a vendor who worked for him as a spy. “Good morning, Kaoru-san.”
“Good morning, Sosakan-sama.” The short, jovial man was cutting up a huge tuna, his knife moving so fast that the pink flesh appeared to slice itself. “What can I do for you today?”
“I’m looking for a man named Lightning,” Sano said. “He’s one of the Mori gang.”
When the vendor heard the name, his knife slipped. A line of blood welled on his finger and stained the fish, but he kept slicing. “I’m sorry, I don’t know any Lightning.”
“Have you seen him here recently?” Sano persisted.
“No, master.” Fear of the Mori apparently outweighed the vendor’s need for the salary Sano paid him. “I’m sorry.”
Down the aisle, Hirata was arguing with a tea-seller. “I know that everyone here pays extortion money to the Mori,” Hirata said. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them!”
Sano watched in frustration as his detectives questioned other people who shook their heads and looked
