Bundori: A Novel Of Japan

“Then he was entitled to stay in Yoshiwara until this morning. Why did he leave last night?”

The disappearance of the proprietor’s smile validated Sano’s suspicions. “I was only following standard procedure,” Uesugi huffed.

“You searched his possessions and found out that he hadn’t enough money to pay his bill. So you threw him out. After confiscating his swords, of course.” Sano’s ingrained disgust for the venal merchant class fed his anger. “You know there’s a killer on the loose, and you sent an unarmed man to his death!”

Uesugi folded his arms in defiance. “I would go bankrupt if I let customers get away without paying. And how was I to know he would die?”

Self-revulsion sickened Sano. He could despise Uesugi for valuing money over a man’s life, but the blame belonged to him alone. His failure to catch the killer had doomed Tozawa-as it might others. And part of his rage stemmed from the fact that Uesugi’s statement had weakened the scenario he’d begun to construct.

There had been no robbery; the missing swords would never prove a suspect’s guilt. The penniless Tozawa could have fallen prey to a predator who didn’t care-or even know-whom he killed. Furthermore, the likelihood of a connection between Kaibara and Tozawa seemed minimal. Tozawa was a lowly ronin, far beneath Kaibara’s status. Sano doubted whether Tozawa’s family records would reveal a relationship between two men from such different backgrounds, though they might link the ronin to Endo Munetsugu. But Sano had far too much work in Edo to make a long research trip to Omi Province.

Then he saw a way to eke value from this interview, punish Uesugi, and protect Yoshiwara’s guests.

“Give me Tozawa’s swords,” he said.

“But, sosakan-sama-”

“Now.” He would take them to Aoi, who might be able to divine some clues from them-and whom he longed to see again.

Fury hardened Uesugi’s eyes; his tongue rolled behind his compressed lips. Then he stood and opened a cabinet with an angry jerk that expressed his reluctance to part with valuable loot. From among at least twenty confiscated swords he selected a pair and thrust them at Sano.

“Thank you,” Sano said. “Also, you’ll convey this order to your Board of Administrators.” This governing body was composed of all the Yoshiwara pleasure house proprietors. “Until the Bundori Killer is caught, no swords will be confiscated as payment for debts. No guests will be forced to leave the quarter after dark. If you and your colleagues don’t comply, you’ll pay a large fine for each violation. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sosakan-sama.” Uesugi spoke politely enough, but his angry glance toward the door made clear his wish to throw Sano through it.

“Good. Now I’ll speak to everyone in the house who was here last night, starting with the courtesan who entertained Tozawa. As to those guests who’ve already left, give me their names.”

“That’s impossible!” Uesugi sputtered, his controlled courtesy shattered. “The privacy of the yujo and guests-”

“Is more important than catching the killer? I don’t think so.”

In a rapid about-face, Uesugi’s smile returned, and he conceded, “As you wish. I’ll write out the names for you. Then I’ll bring everyone to the parlor.”

Sano realized that Uesugi planned to give him phony names and smuggle the clients out the back door. “Excuse me a moment,” he said.

He walked to the front door and called to the security officers waiting in the street: “See that no one leaves this house.” Returning to Uesugi, he picked up the ledger from the proprietor’s desk and tucked it under his arm with Tozawa’s swords, then said, “Now I’ll help you collect your employees and their clients.”

His anger and frustration somewhat relieved by his exercise of authority, Sano accompanied the glowering proprietor on a tour of the Great Joy’s private rooms. These occupied the rear ground floor and the entire upper level of the house, forming a square around the garden, with servants’ quarters facing the alley. Sano covered every corridor, knocked on every door. Cries of surprise greeted his summons. Frantic scufflings followed. Doors slid open, and a disheveled parade of sleepy-eyed, hastily frightened men and women straggled toward the parlor.

In Uesugi’s office, which he’d appropriated for his interviews, Sano beheld with surprise the woman who knelt opposite him. Sparrow, Tozawa’s companion of last night, was clearly one of the house’s second-class courtesans, and hardly the delicate creature that her name suggested. Long past her prime, she’d lost whatever physical charms she’d once possessed. Her figure was heavy and shapeless under the blue and white cotton kimono, the skin beneath her eyes puffy. White strands dulled the hair piled sloppily on her head, and she had a double chin. The Great Joy certainly offered its clients a wide range of female attractions.

“You entertained Tozawa last night and the night before?” he asked.

“Yes, master, that’s right.”

Smiling, Sparrow arranged her skirts around her like a hen settling on a nest. Sano suddenly understood the allure Sparrow held for men, and why Uesugi considered her well worth keeping. She exuded maternal kindness. A client in need of solace could pillow his head on that soft bosom, take comfort from that warm, reassuring voice and smile, and sleep like a child in those cushiony arms. All for the same high price as the wildest sex. Sano was glad to find Tozawa’s last companion such a woman.

“Did Tozawa talk to you?” he asked her.

“Oh, my, yes. All my men do.” A cozy chuckle jiggled her body. “Because I like to listen.”

Just as he’d guessed. “What did Tozawa talk about?”

“Losing his position when his lord fell upon hard times and had to let many retainers go. The hardships and shame he’d faced. How he hoped he could find work in Edo.” Sadness clouded Sparrow’s eyes: She, unlike the Great Joy’s proprietor, sympathized with the unfortunate Tozawa. “He annoyed everyone with his loud clowning because he needed to make himself feel big and important. And when Uesugi told him to leave, he was angry, because everyone knew he was poor-that’s why he started a fight with Uesugi’s watchman and threw a tray of food against the wall. “ She clucked her tongue.”Poor man.”

That her years as a courtesan had given her insight into men, her next words further proved: “And yourself, sosakan-sama. You’re troubled, aren’t you? Would you like to tell me about it?”

Her query seemed like neither nosy impertinence nor an avaricious ploy, but genuine concern. Sano could see how she’d coaxed Tozawa’s life story from him. She would make an excellent police detective-or spy.

“No, thank you,” he said, smiling to take the edge off his refusal. “Did Tozawa mention having any enemies in Edo?”

Sparrow’s chin wobbled as she shook her head. “He said he was quite alone here.”

So much for the idea that the murderer had killed Tozawa out of hatred. “Did he speak of his family background?” Sano asked without much hope. He hardly expected Tozawa to have recited his lineage, complete with the names of ancestors going back four generations.

Therefore a shock of excitement ran through him when Sparrow said, “Oh, yes. He said that the disgrace of losing his master was even harder to bear because his ancestor was a great war hero. But then most samurai claim such ancestors, don’t they?” Her fond smile took the sting out of her implication that they were lying braggarts.

In Sparrow’s statement, Sano found supporting evidence for his theory that joined Tozawa with Endo Munetsugu and drew a parallel between this murder and Kaibara’s. Had both men been killed because of the murderer’s animosity toward their ancestors? Sano entertained the theory that the killer, stalking Tozawa, had seen the commotion at the Great Joy, guessed its outcome, and waited on the dark causeway for his victim. Sano put forth his next question in a deliberately nonchalant voice, as if by pretending indifference he could elicit the desired answer.

“The ancestor Tozawa mentioned. Was it Endo Munetsugu?”

“No, Tozawa-san didn’t tell me his ancestor’s name.”

Sano clung to the fragile hope that Endo could still be Tozawa’s unnamed family hero. But he had no evidence to confirm it, and even if a link between the two men existed, it shed no immediate light on the murderer’s identity-or his motive for killing the unrelated Kaibara.

Evidently perceiving Sano’s frustration, Sparrow leaned forward and placed a consoling hand on his arm. “Don’t be sad, sosakan-sama. Tozawa told me other important things about his ancestor. He said he was a brave general who won many battles for Lord Oda Nobunaga.”