“I never believed Raiden was the killer,” he protested. His defense could no longer help the wrestler, except to clear his name, but he couldn’t let Ogyu close the investigation with the real killer still at large.
“Raiden told his jailers he didn’t remember committing the murders,” Hayashi said coolly, his anger under control now. “Which only means that the madness that prompted his crime also allowed him to conveniently forget it.”
The words gave Sano pause. Maybe Raiden’s “demon” had made Raiden kill, then forget. Could he have been so wrong? Had Tsunehiko died because he’d failed to see Raiden’s guilt and arrest him before the fatal trip?
“Raiden wasn’t the only one Noriyoshi blackmailed,” Sano said, fighting doubt and guilt by stubbornly sticking to his theory. “He had no reason to kill Niu Yukiko. And I think I know who did.”
“Mere supposition,” Yamaga scoffed. Hayashi murmured in agreement.
Although Sano was reluctant to reveal more of his findings after seeing how they’d just used his earlier ones, he needed the magistrate’s official sanction. Quickly he explained what he’d learned in Hakone. “I believe young Lord Niu merits scrutiny,” he finished. “And I should start by determining whether he or one of his men followed me to Totsuka and killed my secretary.”
Prudence kept Sano from accusing Ogyu outright of covering up for the Nius. To give in to the angry urge to demand explanations, to vent his fury in an outburst, would only offend his superior. He would have to be satisfied with laying out his guilty secrets and dangerous theory. With forced resignation, he waited for the reprimand he knew would come.
But Ogyu just sighed and shook his head. “The fantasies of a girl-child. And I am not sure that you are any less prone to fantasy yourself, if you attribute your secretary’s unfortunate demise to anything but a common highway murder. As to inflicting any more trouble on the Nius, that is out of the question. The true murderer has been… dealt with.”
“But-”
“The matter is closed.” As if to underscore his statement, Ogyu nodded to Yamaga and Hayashi. “You may go now.”
With a swish of silk robes, the two yoriki rose and made their bows. Sano could feel their contemptuous stares on him as they left the room.
“I wish to continue the investigation,” Sano said, although he knew that such open defiance could only worsen his position.
Ogyu exchanged an oblique glance with Katsuragawa before replying. “I am afraid you will not be investigating this or any other matter any longer, Sano-san. As of this moment, you are relieved of your post as yoriki of the city of Edo, and all its attendant duties and privileges.”
The words hit Sano like a physical blow. He actually swayed under its impact. Such a disgrace, both for him and his family! Ogyu’s face wavered before him. Sounds echoed; the room dimmed. Of the magistrate’s words he registered only a few-disjointed phrases.
“… insubordination… incompetence… disloyalty… mistake to appoint you in the first place… character unsuitable… If you would please vacate your office and your quarters at once… ”
He almost forgot the investigation that had seemed so important a moment ago. How would this affect his father?
“Sano-san. Do you understand why I am dismissing you?” Ogyu asked.
Sano opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Ogyu must have thought he intended to argue or plead, because he said, “My decision is final. There will be no appeals. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Honorable Magistrate,” Sano managed to whisper.
“And, if you would be so good as to leave Hamada Tsunehiko’s ashes with my clerk, an official representative will deliver them to his parents and offer condolences on behalf of the city.”
Sano felt no relief at being spared the task. How could Ogyu deprive him of the chance to fulfill even this responsibility? But the numbing paralysis of shock kept him from speaking. He nodded, obedient when it no longer mattered.
“Then you may go.” Ogyu paused, then added, “I hope you will find success in your future endeavors.”
Like a sleepwalker, Sano rose.
Katsuragawa spoke for the first time. “I’ll go with you.”
Sano looked at his patron in dismay. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted to clear out his office and rooms in the barracks and leave as quickly as possible. He needed time to plan what he would say to his father. But Katsuragawa stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder.
“We need to talk, Sano-san,” he said.
He firmly guided Sano to the entry way where they both retrieved their shoes. Once outside, he led the way down a quiet lane that ran between the mansion’s wall and its neighbor’s.
They walked in silence for a while. Sano glanced sideways at his patron, noticing again the features that had impressed him at their first meeting. The heavy shoulders that almost swallowed Katsuragawa’s short, thick neck. The distinctive profile, with its full lips, large-nostrilled nose, and wary, unblinking eyes. The great curve of his generous but firm belly. Katsuragawa’s posture exuded confidence; his controlled movements and slow, deliberate pace suggested power held in check. Beside him, Sano felt small and diminished, although he was taller than Katsuragawa.
“As your patron, I accept some degree of responsibility for what has happened to you,” Katsuragawa said, looking straight ahead. “Perhaps, in my eagerness to discharge a long-standing obligation, I acted too hastily. I should not have directed you into a position for which you are so unsuited. But the ultimate blame lies with you, does it not?”
He turned to face Sano. “Did you even try to conform to your superior’s requirements? Did you even try to make up for your lack of qualifications and aptitude with loyalty and obedience?”
Jolted out of numbness by Katsuragawa’s reproach, Sano retorted, “What have my shortcomings got to do with anything? I was dismissed not because I performed badly, but because I performed too well. I uncovered a murder that Magistrate Ogyu wanted to keep hidden. “ He flung out his hands.”How can you expect me to give my loyalty to a man so corrupt that he would sentence an innocent man to death in order to perpetuate this cover-up?“ He was shouting now, but he didn’t care who heard or if he offended Katsuragawa. His urge to defend himself- against his own as well as everyone else’s accusations-was too strong.”Do you deny that there is a cover-up?“
“Sano-san.” Katsuragawa stopped walking and folded his thick arms across his chest. In a condescending tone he said, “This is exactly what I mean by your lack of aptitude. Of course there’s a cover-up! And if you’d been the right man for your job, you would have immediately understood why it was necessary.”
Ignoring Sano’s shocked exclamation, he demanded, “What do you think would happen if it became known that someone in Lord Niu’s household had murdered Yukiko? And what if you proved that the ’someone’ was another member of the family? What if the shogun saw fit to put the entire clan to death and confiscate its lands as punishment? Imagine the effect this would have on the country!”
Katsuragawa lifted his hands skyward. “Thousands and thousands of rōnin, eager to avenge their master’s death. The Niu allies and other daimyo, restless after ninety years of Tokugawa rule, looking for a reason to start a rebellion. Put these together and what do you get?”
He leaned so close that Sano could see the pores in his swarthy skin. “Bloodshed. Another five centuries of war. You would have this? Just to satisfy your curiosity about the deaths of a common peasant and one insignificant woman? You would not sacrifice the life of a wrestler-a cretin who injures because he cannot control his temper-for peace?”