Bundori: A Novel Of Japan

No, I have other concerns besides your late arrival. If I may speak frankly?”

Warily Sano nodded.

“My sources tell me you’ve somehow offended Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who has turned the shogun against you.” As the path wound beneath more cherry trees around a small hollow, Magistrate Ueda contemplated a merry group of men toasting one another with sake. “And that if you don’t solve the murder case, you’ll be exiled to Sado Island. Is this true?”

Sano, familiar with the upper-class custom of employing investigators to check on prospective in-laws, had feared that Magistrate Ueda would learn he’d lost the shogun’s favor before he could reclaim it. Now he owed an honest disclosure to this man who had entered negotiations for his daughter’s hand in good faith.

“Yes,” Sano said reluctantly. “It’s true.”

“Ah.” Magistrate Ueda nodded, seeming disappointed but not surprised.

“But my investigation is progressing,” Sano hastened to add, not wanting to lose this chance at the marriage his father had wanted for him. He summarized his findings, ending with: “I’ve identified four suspects, and one of them is the Bundori Killer.”

The magistrate didn’t reply immediately. In silence, they skirted a bevy of shrieking children. “I must say I’ve also heard much good about you, Sano-san,” he said at last. “You’ve acquired a reputation for courage, intelligence, and an impressive dedication to truth and justice. What you’ve just told me confirms it. There are also rumours of a valuable service you performed for His Excellency.”

Sano regretted that his pact with the shogun prevented his answering the magistrate’s unspoken question, and perhaps forestalling what he knew would come next.

“Because of these favorable reports-and Noguchi’s recommendation,” Magistrate Ueda said, “I agreed to this miai. And, I must admit, because of my daughter.”

An affectionate smile touched his lips as he glanced over his shoulder. Sano, following his gaze, saw that Reiko had abandoned her prim reserve to laugh at something Noguchi was saying. Her eyes met Sano’s for a moment. Before she again hid her face behind her fan, Sano saw that her beauty was different from Aoi’s: delicate and classic. But she was a more suitable match…

“Reiko overheard Noguchi telling me about you,” Magistrate Ueda continued. “She’s never before expressed interest in any marriage proposal, but she insisted on meeting you, despite my reservations. Sometimes she displays a most unfeminine strength of will.”

The pride in his voice softened his critical words. Then the smile left his face. “I love my daughter, Sano- san. She’s my only child, and the very image of my deceased wife. Her happiness means much to me. For that reason, I consented to the miai and gave you a chance to speak for yourself. But I can’t allow the marriage and let Reiko share your uncertain fate. I’m sorry, Sano- san.”

That Sano had anticipated rejection didn’t lessen his shame and disappointment. Suddenly he could no longer bear the beauty of the landscape, the laughter of happy revelers. Would the failure of his investigation follow this one?

Woodenly he said, “I understand, Magistrate Ueda.”

He found that he regretted more than the lost hope of an advantageous marriage with an attractive lady. He knew Magistrate Ueda’s reputation for fairness, which his willingness to hear both sides of a story had just proved. He meted out harsh sentences to the criminals he convicted, but showed mercy in extenuating circumstances; his mention of both the good and bad reports, as well as his considerate rejection, demonstrated his compassion. He was above bribery, untouched by scandal, and apparently incorruptible. Sano would have felt honored to deserve a family connection with a man of such character.

To hide his humiliation, he focused on his surroundings. They’d made a complete circuit of Kiyomizu Hall and reached the side overlooking the lake. And they’d gotten far ahead of Noguchi and the women.

Magistrate Ueda put a hand on Sano’s arm. “I wish you success in your investigation, and the best of luck in the future.”

The words were spoken with genuine sincerity, but Sano barely heard them. For just then, a familiar figure, standing on the hall’s balcony, caught his eye.

Dressed in brilliant robes, Chamberlain Yanagisawa contemplated the blossoming cherry trees below him. As Sano watched, he turned and spoke to a group of similarly attired men beside him. Among them Sano recognized several important officials: This was a combination business meeting and pleasure jaunt. As Sano gazed at Yanagisawa’s vivid figure, his muscles tightened and his mouth went dry.

Sooner or later he must confront Yanagisawa, if not to establish the chamberlain’s guilt or innocence, then to settle their differences. He tried to rationalize his reluctance by listing the reasons Yanagisawa couldn’t be the Bundori Killer. Despite his ancestry, character flaws, and attempts to halt Sano’s progress, the chamberlain was Tsunayoshi’s second-in-command, a respected bakufu official, and surely too occupied with government affairs to care about an ancient feud. But thoroughness, as well as Sano’s desire for the truth, dictated that he treat Yanagisawa as a suspect until cleared, no matter how much he wished otherwise. And if the chamberlain wasn’t the killer, Sano must propitiate him. Even if he solved the murder case and avoided exile, his future success depended on Yanagisawa.

“I’ll wait for our party here,” Magistrate Ueda said. “Perhaps you’d like to walk awhile?”

The magistrate was kindly allowing him time to recover from rejection before joining the others as if nothing had happened. Seeing Yanagisawa leave the veranda and disappear into the hall, Sano realized that this might be his only chance to speak with the chamberlain, who might refuse him a formal private audience.

“Thank you, Honorable Magistrate,” Sano said. No longer able to avoid the task that filled him with dread, he wandered down the path and waited.

Soon Yanagisawa came out of the hall and sailed down the steps. Leisurely he descended the hill and strode along the promenade. Sano followed him onto the narrow strip of land that extended into Shinobazu Pond. Yanagisawa walked between the teahouses that bordered it, toward the small island where the shrine to Benten, goddess of water, stood. With sinking heart and dragging footsteps, Sano trailed after him.

Chamberlain Yanagisawa reached the island and passed through the shrine’s torii gate. Inside, a small pine grove sheltered the outer precinct, which was momentarily deserted. Sano caught up and drew a deep breath.

“Honorable Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” he blurted. “May I speak with you?”

Yanagisawa turned. His half-smile vanished when he recognized Sano. His eyes began to smolder; hostility emanated from him in almost visible waves.

“I have nothing to say to you, sosakan.” Venom seeped through his suave tone. “How dare you intrude on my privacy in this brazen manner? Leave me at once!”

Sano’s courage waned, but he held his ground. Dropping to his knees, he said in a rush. “Honorable Chamberlain, please tell me what I’ve done to offend you. Whatever it was, it was unintentional. And I want to make amends.” If he did, then perhaps the chamberlain would agree to an interview that would undoubtedly clear him of all suspicion.

Instead of replying, Yanagisawa shot out his foot in a vicious kick. His thick-soled wooden sandal struck Sano’s shoulder. Sano sprawled backward, uttering a cry of pained surprise. Anger erupted within him; he longed to take his sword to this man whom Bushido dictated that he revere as his lord’s representative., He wished he could prove Yanagisawa the Bundori Killer… almost.

Yanagisawa stood over him, fists clenched at his sides. White lines of rage tightened the flesh around his mouth. “There is nothing you can say or do to compensate for trying to frame me for murder.”

“I’m not trying to frame you,” Sano protested, still shocked by the chamberlain’s uncharacteristic display of temper. Away from the shogun, he apparently felt no need to maintain his suave poise. Sano stumbled to his feet, realizing that the castle spies must have told Yanagisawa about Noguchi’s search for General Fujiwara’s descendants. “I was only investigating a lead. I had no way of knowing that your ancestry connected you to the murders. Any inquiries I make about you will be strictly formalities, for the sake of a thorough investigation. I haven’t told anyone that you’re a suspect, or tried to incriminate you. Because I can’t believe you’re the Bundori Killer.”

Even as he spoke, he tasted the doubt underlying his denial. Was Yanagisawa angry for the stated reason, or out of fear of exposure?

Yanagisawa appeared not to hear his words. He advanced, backing Sano up against the gate. “You seek to ruin