“Before you dismiss what I’ve said, at least investigate Lord Niu and his friends,” he pleaded. “For the shogun’s sake. If there’s even a chance of an assassination attempt, shouldn’t you tell him so he can protect himself?”
“The shogun is already well protected-against real threats. His military power is absolute, and a group of conspirators such as you describe-even if they do exist-could not hope to prevail. The days when uprisings like the Great Conspiracy had a chance of success are long past. Besides, I can assure you that the daimyo clans, Lord Niu’s included, have a strong stake in maintaining the present regime. They command their provinces and a large proportion of the country’s wealth. In a war against the Tokugawas, they could lose it all.”
With a sense of irony that almost made him want to laugh, Sano countered the arguments that he himself had used against Katsuragawa under different circumstances. “The conspirators are rash, ambitious young men who lack their elders’ instinct for self-preservation,” he said. “And from what I’ve seen of young Lord Niu, he is not one to let logic govern his behavior. Perhaps because of the madness that runs in his family.”
“We’re well aware of young Lord Niu’s tendencies. There is nothing you can tell us about him that we don’t already know. He is not a threat to the shogun.”
In spite of Toda’s condescending tone and unchanged expression, a sudden tenseness about the metsuke told Sano that he’d scored a point. Maybe he could win another.
He said, “Perhaps you underestimate Lord Niu because he’s a cripple.”
But Toda just looked even wearier and shook his head. Rising, he went to the shelf and took down a notebook. He knelt again, opening it upon his lap.
“Lord Niu Masahito.” He ran his finger over the columns of characters as he read. “Born with a deformed right leg, due to… ” He quoted the opinions of the doctors and astrologers who had attended the birth. “Resides with his mother in Edo because his father hates the sight of him.”
Toda turned a few pages. “At age fifteen, he killed a rōnin in a duel which he initiated. In the same year, he led a gang that raided an eta settlement and killed ten people. At age sixteen, he beat to death a boy prostitute and was banned from Yoshiwara.
Since then he has had boys brought to his family’s summer villa in Ueno. Prefers masturbation and superficial mutilation of a drugged partner to actual coupling. At age seventeen… “
The list went on and on. Incident after shocking incident, interspersed with the most personal details of Lord Niu’s life. Appalled by Lord Niu’s excesses, Sano was nevertheless impressed by the wealth of information that the metsuke had gathered. Had they managed to plant spies even among the Nius’ servants and retainers? Maybe they did know everything worth knowing about Lord Niu. Maybe the plot was nothing but a game of make-believe played by a group of idle young men.
“All of these incidents were suppressed with the Nius’ money and influence,” Toda finished. “But that didn’t keep us from learning of them. I think you can see that we have sufficient information by which to judge Lord Niu’s character. We don’t underestimate him-or overestimate him.”
Or maybe the metsuke assumed that, because Lord Niu hadn’t yet injured anyone who mattered to them, he never would. That assumption, plus their faith in the Tokugawa omniscience, blinded them.
“Can you be sure that your spy network is functioning as it should?” Sano asked. “It seems to me that by hiring blackmailers as informers, you run the risk that they’ll use the intelligence they collect for their own purposes instead of reporting it to you. As Noriyoshi did.”
“Noriyoshi was not an informer.” In response to the surprise that must have shown on Sano’s face, Toda explained, “You said so; I never confirmed it. He was merely an individual who came to our attention from time to time. We kept a watch on him, as we do upon all Yoshiwara inhabitants who deal with high-ranking citizens. But he was never in my employ. As you pointed out, blackmailers don’t make the most trustworthy informers.” His lips turned up in a humorless, insincere smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Sano stared at Toda in confusion. He was sure the metsuke was lying. But why? To save face? To protect the network? With Noriyoshi dead, what did it matter if anyone knew he’d been an informer?
“You granted me an audience because I knew Noriyoshi worked for you,” he reminded Toda. He couldn’t have been mistaken about that. But now he had the eerie sensation he experienced during minor earthquakes, when the subtle shifting of once-solid earth cast doubt upon his notion of reality. Toda’s bland denial shook his belief in his own story. Had he indeed fabricated it, for the reasons Toda gave? Was he such a self-deluding fool? Magistrate Ogyu and Katsuragawa Shundai would agree. As would the Council of Elders, if he went to them without O-hisa. A growing sense of despair provoked him to speak more sharply than he’d intended.
“You were willing enough to listen before you found out who I was. Do you serve the shogun by dismissing the news of a plot against him without even checking to see if it’s true?” He stood over Toda as he gestured with the rope and sandal that his hands had somehow picked up from the floor. “How can you fulfill your duties when you reject information that comes your way?”
“I granted you an audience because it would have been negligent of me to overlook the possibility that you had something of value to us,” Toda corrected him mildly. “Contrary to your opinion, we welcome factual information from all reliable sources. We run an efficient operation that has served the Tokugawas well and helped keep them in power for eighty-eight years. We investigate whatever warrants investigation.
“And now, Sano-san, I hope you will excuse me.” He clapped his hands to summon the guard. “Your moment is up. Good day.”
Cold, hungry, and almost ill with fatigue, Sano slowed his footsteps as he approached his parents’ district. Not wanting to face his father again, he still found himself drawn to the comfort and security of home. He couldn’t face the cheerless impersonality of an inn; besides, he lacked the energy to walk to one. The physical exhaustion that drained his strength brought with it a sense of defeat just as enervating.
He now had to admit that his own ambitions, for which he’d sacrificed his father’s, had come to nothing. He’d learned the truth, but failed to elicit value from it. He had discovered that Lord Niu planned to kill the shogun, but how could he stop him? Further attempts to warn the authorities would likely turn out no better than today’s. O-hisa’s broken promise had destroyed his hopes for a successful end to the murder investigation. Without her testimony, the Council of Elders would never act against Lord Niu-not on the strength of unsubstantiated theories, with a shoe and a rope as the only evidence. Tsunehiko’s death would go unavenged, as would Noriyoshi’s and Yukiko’s. Sano had already lost Katsuragawa’s patronage for good. And today he’d lost his belief in his own power to realize his desires-to expose the truth, reclaim his status and self-respect, deliver the guilty to justice, and save his father’s life. Standing outside the gate that led to the canal, bridge, and street he’d known forever, he faced the sum of his losses.
It can end here, he told himself. The danger, the frustration, the ambivalence, the uncertainty. All he had to do was go back to the life he’d lived before he’d become a yoriki. Let Magistrate Ogyu’s version of justice suffice; the real victims-Noriyoshi, Yukiko, Tsunehiko, and Raiden-were beyond caring. Let Toda and his kind protect the shogun however they chose. Such things need no longer concern him. But these consoling thoughts only increased his misery. His spirit sickened at the thought of giving up, even as reason told him it was his only choice. Bleakly he reflected that this episode of his life might end, but he would live with its consequences for the rest of his years. Then, because he had nowhere else to go, he passed through the gate and continued homeward. Maybe tomorrow he would think of a way to salvage his honor and make amends to his father-and somehow prevent the old man’s death.