“And Hirata, this earlier murder means that until we catch the killer, no one is safe. On my way here, I stopped at every gate and told each sentry to detain, search, and note everyone who passes after dark. I ordered every neighborhood headman to have armed citizens patrol the streets between dusk and dawn. I want you to do the same in as much of southwest Nihonbashi as you can before the gates close. We don’t want to panic the townspeople, but, we must warn and protect them.”
If Hirata minded following a hard day’s work with a busy night, he didn’t show it. He nodded briskly and said, “Yes, sōsakan-sama.”
They made their farewells, and Sano watched him sprint away through crowds of homebound samurai. Across the boulevard rose the high stone walls of the great daimyo estates. Was the killer behind them? Or was he prowling the streets in search of another victim? Sano’s hunter’s instinct stirred despite the inconclusive end to the day’s inquiries. Beneath the surface of Edo ’s controlled, orderly life, he sensed an evil presence, ready to wreak violence at any moment.
“Wherever you are, I’ll find you,” he vowed aloud.
As he crossed the bridge and entered the castle gate, bound for his meeting with the shogun, and, later, his rendezvous with Aoi, he wished he could believe his own words.
Armed guards admitted Sano to the shogun’s private reception room, where lanterns lit lavish gilded murals of blooming plum trees and blue rivers, brilliant floral designs filled the spaces between the ceiling’s cedar beams, and sunken charcoal braziers dispelled the evening chill.
“Ahh, Sōsakan Sano,” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi said from the dais where he reclined upon silk cushions. In the soft light, his rich robes gleamed, and his face looked younger and more animated. “Come, rest from your labors. This spring air can be as, ahh, fatiguing as it is exhilarating.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Sano knelt before the dais, awed and disconcerted to find himself alone with Tsunayoshi, except for three bodyguards who stood like silent shadows by the doors, and three equally quiet servants who awaited their master’s orders. Still, Sano recognized a unique opportunity to further his acquaintance with the lord who controlled his fortune. And Tsunayoshi’s conversation proved that he, too, welcomed the chance to develop their personal relationship.
“You are a scholar, are you not?” At Sano’s assent, the shogun went on to ask, “With whom did you study? And which subjects?”
“With the priests at Zōjō Temple, Your Excellency,” Sano answered, relaxing. His father, despite extreme financial hardship, had given him the best education possible. And considering the value that the shogun placed on scholarship, how fortunate that he had! Sano offered a silent prayer of thanks to his father’s spirit. “I studied literature, composition, mathematics, law, history, political theory, and the Chinese classics.”
“Ahh, a truly educated samurai.” Interest kindled in Tsunayoshi’s eyes, and he leaned forward with an eager smile. “I presume you are familiar with the Book of Great Learning.”
Having had long passages of it drilled into his memory by the strict priests, Sano could and did answer yes. He hadn’t expected a literary discussion, but he must follow his master’s lead. He’d heard tales of Tsunayoshi’s temperamental nature. One misstep could result in disaster.
However, the shogun apparently decided that it was time for business. “We shall have an enjoyable discussion about the classics someday soon.” He sat upright and assumed a stern expression. “Now. What progress have you made in your, ahh, investigation of Kaibara Tōju’s murder?”
Just then, footsteps sounded in the corridor. At a command from someone outside, the guards opened the door. Sano turned and saw Chamberlain Yanagisawa enter the room. With him came a young samurai about fourteen years of age. He wore his hair in a style that signified that he hadn’t yet had his manhood ceremony: the crown shaven, but with a long, dangling forelock tied back from his brow. His face was as delicate and lovely as a girl’s.
“Please forgive my interruption, Your Excellency.” Yanagisawa knelt beside the dais and bowed. The boy did the same, but kept his forehead to the floor and his arms extended while the chamberlain sat up and continued speaking. “But I took the liberty of assuming you wanted to see Shichisaburō tonight.” He gestured toward the boy, adding, “I believe you once expressed an interest in him.”
Sano had heard of Shichisaburō, current star of the Tokugawa No theater troupe. He came from a distinguished stage family, had great talent, and specialized in samurai roles, which explained his hairstyle. The shogun, an enthusiastic arts patron, would naturally want to meet him-but now? Surprised and disturbed by Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s ill-timed intrusion, Sano looked toward the dais.
The shogun was gazing at Shichisaburō as if entranced, eyes aglow, lips parted. Even before he’d come to the castle, Sano had heard stories about Tsunayoshi’s fondness for young men and boys, his harem of beautiful actors, peasants, and samurai. Now he saw the truth in those rumors. He felt a spasm of disgust, though not at the shogun’s sexual preference. Manly love was practiced by many samurai, who considered it an expression of Bushido. Rather, he was disturbed to learn that another rumor was also true: Tsunayoshi allowed erotic pursuits to distract him from official business. Sano fought his unfilial emotions as his father’s voice spoke from the past:
“A good samurai does not criticize his lord, even silently.”
Tsunayoshi seemed to have forgotten all about the murder investigation. “Rise, Shichisaburō,” he ordered huskily.
The boy stood, and the shogun looked him up and down. Prodded by a sharp glance from Yanagisawa, the young actor smiled tremulously. Tsunayoshi’s breathing quickened, and his throat contracted as he swallowed. Sano looked at the floor, embarrassed to witness this naked display of lust. Then, to his relief, Yanagisawa beckoned a guard.
“Take Shichisaburō to His Excellency’s chambers to wait until he finishes his business with Sōsakan Sano.” This casual mention of his name was Yanagisawa’s only acknowledgement of Sano’s presence.
As the door closed behind Shichisaburō and the guard, disappointment creased Tsunayoshi’s face. Sano squirmed inwardly until Yanagisawa’s smooth voice filled the awkward silence.
“Are you discussing Kaibara’s murder?”
“Murder? Ahh, yes.” Tsunayoshi blinked, and his eyes refocused on Sano, but a wistful sigh betrayed his lingering regret over Shichisaburō’s departure. “Sōsakan Sano was just about to report on his progress. Won’t you join us? I am sure we will both benefit from your, ahh, insight.”
Yanagisawa and Tsunayoshi exchanged a glance that Sano couldn’t read. He detected an emotional bond between them, but he couldn’t grasp the nature of their relationship. Were they really lovers? They didn’t touch, or appear to desire physical contact; Yanagisawa remained seated below the dais to Tsunayoshi’s right, turning sideways so he could see both the shogun and Sano. Beneath their formal manner, Sano sensed fond admiration on Tsunayoshi’s part; on Yanagisawa’s, something more intense and ambivalent. He must pay close attention to their every move, to the inflections of their speech when they addressed each other. If, as he’d begun to suspect, he must always deal with his two superiors as a team, then he wanted to understand the dynamics between them.