Sano watched Lord Niu rejoin the mourners at the funeral pyre. The flames had died down, although smoke continued to rise from the smoldering embers. As he started back toward the city center, a heady excitement stirred beneath his initial disappointment. Attending the funeral had endangered him, but not, perhaps, to no avail. Midori was in Hakone, a long, arduous journey west along the Tōkaido-the Eastern Sea Road that linked Edo with the imperial capital in Kyoto. This was bad news, but at least he knew where to find her. It wouldn’t be easy to justify a five-day leave of absence to Magistrate Ogyu; still, he could operate more freely once outside Ogyu’s domain.
Besides, the Nius’ continuing resistance to his investigation confirmed his suspicion that they wanted the mystery of Noriyoshi’s and Yukiko’s murders to remain unsolved. And their abrupt removal of Midori from Edo meant they were afraid that she might tell him why.
Chapter 13
Sano had departed from the Tōkaido’s starting point at the Nihonbashi Bridge at daybreak. Dressed in his winter traveling clothes-a wide, circular wicker hat, heavy robes, trousers, shoes and socks, and his warmest hooded cloak-he’d ridden southwest out of the awakening city. Now, as the sun burned the last of the dawn’s shimmering pink radiance from the sky, he approached Shinagawa, second of the fifty-three stations that marked the highway between Edo and Kyoto.
The wide, sandy road, banked in the middle and bordered on each side by regularly spaced tall firs, narrowed and began to climb. Sano could see ahead of him the many bent figures of pedestrians toiling toward Shinagawa. To his right, the land rose steeply toward the forested hills. On his left it dropped sharply away below a line of fishermen’s shacks to the sea. Small boats crowded the harbor. The faint shapes of larger ships floated on distant deeper water, against a hazy horizon. Seabirds wheeled and soared, filling the sky’s high blue bowl with darting wings and the air with their sharp, plaintive cries. The sibilant lap of the waves made a constant, gentler music. The clean, fresh salt breeze invigorated Sano, renewing his optimism and confidence. His journey was going to be a success. When he got to Hakone, Midori would give him proof that Noriyoshi and Yukiko had been murdered, and maybe even tell him the identity of the killer.
“Wait, Yoriki Sano-san! I have to stop!”
The shout that came from twenty paces behind him shattered Sano’s mood. With a sigh of irritation, he reined in his horse and looked over his shoulder. He watched as a smiling, wheezing Tsunehiko, mounted on a huge black steed, bounced up to him. For one blessed moment, he’d completely forgotten his traveling companion.
Tsunehiko scrambled off his horse. “I’ll be quick, I promise.” He hurried to the roadside, hiking up his cloak.
Shaking his head, Sano leaned over to grasp the reins of Tsunehiko’s horse before it could wander away. He watched his secretary urinate against a tree, wishing he were traveling alone and blaming himself for the fact that he wasn’t.
After Yukiko’s funeral yesterday, he had gone straight to Magistrate Ogyu’s mansion. He’d wondered whether he should wait awhile to ask for a leave of absence. If Ogyu had seen him at the funeral, it would be better to allow the magistrate’s anger time to cool. But a growing sense of urgency made Sano reluctant to postpone his journey. If he didn’t solve the mystery soon, he feared he might never do so.
He’d waited until after dark. At last two bearers rounded the corner with a palanquin. Magistrate Ogyu stepped out at the gate.
Sano greeted his superior, who, to his relief, didn’t mention the funeral. Then he said, “Honorable Magistrate, I must beg you to allow me a five-day leave of absence. As you know, my father is not well. His doctor has advised me to make a pilgrimage to the shrine at Mishima to pray for his recovery.”
Fabricating an excuse had presented him with a moral dilemma. He hated lies and subterfuge, but for the past few days, he’d dealt constantly in both. Now he’d come to realize that his investigation was compromising not only his career, but also his principles. He tried to justify the lies by telling himself that small truths must fall sacrifice to his pursuit of a larger one. Justice-for the murder victims, as well as for Wisteria and Midori and others who had loved them-must take priority. Still, he felt a deep unhappiness that he couldn’t deny. His personal quest was carrying him into a disturbing and unfamiliar world, away from the radiant path of duty, obedience, filial piety, and integrity defined by the Way of the Warrior. Finally he’d settled on the pilgrimage story after discarding several others, because it was plausible and contained elements of truth. He would go to Mishima, which was the station just after Hakone. If spies at the highway checkpoints reported his movements to Ogyu, he would at least appear to be doing exactly as he’d proposed. A doctor had recommended the pilgrimage, and Ogyu, always a champion of duty, couldn’t refuse to let him go.
Ogyu stroked his chin thoughtfully. “A pilgrimage on your father’s behalf. Such an admirable expression of filial piety. Of course you may have your leave of absence, Yoriki Sano. When do you propose to begin your journey?”
“Thank you, Honorable Magistrate. Tomorrow morning, if I may.” Sano bowed, surprised that Ogyu had conceded so easily. Did the magistrate really believe his story? Maybe Ogyu was just ready to seize any chance to get rid of him for a while. He wondered whether Ogyu knew about Midori and saw that his sudden need for a pilgrimage coincided with her departure from Edo. If so, did Ogyu not care if he visited the nunnery? Perhaps he’d wrongly imagined a criminal collusion between the magistrate and the Nius.
“I am much obliged for your kindness,” he added, telling himself he was lucky to get a leave of absence at all, whatever the reason.
Then Ogyu said, “You will, of course, take your secretary with you.” His tone made it not only an order, but a condition of Sano’s leave.
Sano felt his mouth drop open in dismay. Tsunehiko! What a terrible encumbrance! The secretary was no horseman; he would make the journey last even longer. And how could Sano afford to feed him for five days? There would be other expenses, too: lodging, stable fees, tolls at each of the ten checkpoints between Edo and Hakone.
“I value your advice, Honorable Magistrate,” Sano faltered, “but I shan’t require a secretary’s services.”
Ogyu dismissed his objection with a shake of his head. “A traveling companion is necessary for a man in your position,” he said sternly. “Do not worry about the cost.”
Then Sano understood. Ogyu was sending Tsunehiko along to spy. Now his suspicions about the magistrate’s motives returned, and he regretted revealing his travel plans. But it was too late for regrets.
“Please come inside, Sano-san,” Ogyu said with a benign smile. “I will write up two official travel passes and distribute to you the funds to cover your secretary’s expenses. Then you had better go directly to his home and tell him to prepare for the journey.”
Now Sano controlled his annoyance as Tsunehiko remounted the black steed. The secretary put his foot in the stirrup and heaved himself up, wheezing as he arrived, belly down, on the saddle.
“Easy.” Sano calmed the horse as it began to buck. He held the reins firmly until Tsunehiko could sit up. To Tsunehiko, he said, “If you didn’t drink so much, you wouldn’t have to stop so often.”
The reproach didn’t bother Tsunehiko. Beaming, he said, “But Yoriki Sano-san, riding makes me thirsty. And hungry, too.” He took another swig of water from his flask, then pulled a parcel of dried plums from his overloaded saddlebag. He began to munch, his cheeks bulging around his smile. “This is so much fun. Many, many thanks for taking me with you!”