“Dancing sushi, best in town,” he barked, zinging a plate down the counter toward Sano. “Eat up now.”
“Thank you.” Sano picked up a still-wriggling prawn with his chopsticks and ate it, wishing the chef would keep quiet. He’d missed Fat Man’s entire reply.
“Easy for you to say do not worry,” Cherry Eater railed. “You are not running for your life!”
Sano ate the rest of his prawns without tasting them. Now he grasped the significance of Cherry Eater’s bulky bundle, his panicky flight, his need for money, and the boat. Something or someone had frightened him into an abrupt departure from Edo. Was it Lord Niu? Maybe Cherry Eater hadn’t gotten money from him, but a death threat.
Mumble mumble was all Sano heard from Fat Man.
“I must leave immediately,” Cherry Eater said. “Now where is the money you owe me?”
The chef slid Sano two more plates, announcing loudly, “Tuna and sea bream.”
Sano raised a hand to signal that he wanted nothing more. He saw Fat Man take a pouch from inside his baggy cloak and give it to Cherry Eater. Then he frowned as Fat Man’s hands caught his attention. Too white and slender and graceful to belong to such a gross person, they also looked familiar. Sano had a sudden image of them holding a fan instead of a pouch. He took a closer look at Fat Man-and froze with his chopsticks held halfway to his mouth.
The gray wig and padded clothing effectively changed the man’s age and shape. He’d plumped his face, probably by stuffing cloth in his cheeks and nostrils. But he couldn’t disguise the hands, which tipped Sano off to his real identity.
Fat Man was none other than Kikunojo, the great Kabuki actor-in male attire for another secret rendezvous.
Sano looked away before Kikunojo could recognize him. He’d more or less dismissed Kikunojo as a suspect, but the actor’s sudden reappearance raised strong questions in his mind. Kikunojo had evidently lied about refusing to pay blackmail, and perhaps about other things as well. Had his forbidden affair been with a married woman-or Yukiko? Could he have killed her and Noriyoshi because he feared that either might reveal the affair to the Nius, who would have destroyed him if they’d learned of it? Had he worn a disguise to follow Sano along the Tōkaido and kill Tsunehiko?
These questions went unanswered as Cherry Eater dominated the conversation, apparently out of a reckless desire to confide.
“… shouldn’t have asked him for more money… didn’t know how dangerous… he’ll have my head if I don’t get away fast… ”
Cherry Eater’s voice had dropped to a fretful mutter, but Sano understood his meaning. Lord Niu had refused to tolerate more extortion. Did Cherry Eater believe-as Sano still did, despite Kikunojo’s reemergence as a suspect-that Lord Niu had killed Noriyoshi, Yukiko, and the samurai child and would not hesitate to kill again to protect himself? The shunga dealer’s fear suggested that he did. But then why had he risked blackmail? Sano felt a certain admiration for Cherry Eater’s nerve and enterprising spirit. The ugly little man was quick to seize opportunities to make money wherever he found them.
Kikunojo mumbled something else.
“But it did not seem like a bad idea at first!” In his agitation, Cherry Eater forgot to keep his voice low. “Do you think I am so stupid as to follow in my miserable employee’s footsteps?” He gave a shrill, hysterical laugh. “No. I merely suggested that an increase in my commission was called for. Because of that boy who died. I had to pay his family a fortune not to tell the police. How was I supposed to know that Lord-” He caught himself. “That a certain person would misunderstand my intentions and assume that I, too, am a metsuke informer who wants money in exchange for not telling the authorities about his conspiracy?”
Sano nearly choked on a mouthful of sea bream. It didn’t surprise him that Noriyoshi had learned about the conspiracy, or that he’d attempted to use his knowledge for personal gain. But never had he guessed that Noriyoshi was an informer for the Tokugawa spies. This unexpected piece of information strengthened Lord Niu’s motive immeasurably. How much more dangerous was the knowledge in an informer’s hands than in those of a simple blackmailer! Sano conjectured that the self-serving Noriyoshi had first used the secrets he learned for his own benefit, reporting them to his employers only after he’d wrung enough money out of his victims. This time, however, it appeared that Lord Niu had made sure Noriyoshi didn’t live long enough to report the conspiracy.
“The Conspiracy of Twenty-One… all twenty-one years old.” Increasingly hysterical, Cherry Eater released a flood of babble. “All younger sons of daimyo. Noriyoshi said they want to restore their clans to the glory of the old days. Dangerous, yes, because Lord Niu is crazy and will stop at nothing to reach his goal.” Cherry Eater paused. “Do you mind?” he asked Kikunojo, pointing to a bottle of sake on the counter.
At Kikunojo’s nod, he picked it up, drained it, coughed, wiped his mouth. “Noriyoshi said that, impossible as it seems, they might even succeed! He said… ”
Come on, come on, Sano urged silently. You’ve told me who they are, and I might have guessed, anyway, because of the crests, I already know what they want. Now tell me what they’re going to do!
Cherry Eater said, “They truly intend to commit this murder- the ultimate treason!”
The impact of his words sent a spasm of horror through Sano’s body. His hand locked convulsively around his chopsticks. If he interpreted Cherry Eater’s meaning correctly, then the Conspiracy of Twenty-One planned to assassinate the shogun! And to what terrible end? At best, to bring down the wrath of the Tokugawas upon their clans. At worst, to usher in a new era of civil war, if the great daimyo each tried to claim the vacant post of supreme military dictator. Madness! Then, before Sano could think or hear anything else, a hand clapped his shoulder.
“Sano-san!”
Sano dropped his chopsticks, wincing at the sound of his own name. As he turned toward the speaker, he saw Cherry Eater’s head snap around.
“And what brings you here, master?” It was the cheerful, wizened peddler who sold fish in Sano’s parents’ neighborhood. “I thought you worked for the magistrate now. A yoriki, aren’t you?”
“Shhh!” Sano waved his hands to silence the peddler, at the same time throwing a backward glance at Cherry Eater and Kikunojo. With dismay, he saw that the damage had been done.
Cherry Eater and Kikunojo were both looking straight at him, alarmed recognition written on their faces. Then, simultaneously, they bolted in opposite directions. Kikunojo shot past Sano and out the front door. He threw off his cumbersome cloak as he ran, leaving it on the floor along with the cushions that had made him look fat. Cherry Eater snatched up his bundle, scurried around the counter, and disappeared beyond the curtain hanging over the kitchen door.
“Talked to your mother yesterday,” the peddler went on, looking bewildered by Sano’s peculiar greeting. “Your father’s not feeling too good, eh? That’s too bad. I’ll bring him some whale liver next time I come… Sano-san, where are you going in such a hurry?”
Sano flung some money on the counter to pay for his food. He hated to let Kikunojo get away; he had questions for the actor. But he had to go after Cherry Eater and learn more about Lord Niu’s plot against the shogun, to whom he owed his first duty and loyalty. He beat aside the curtain and burst into the kitchen. A woman stood at a table, gutting fish. She screamed as Sano collided with her on his way to the back door.
“Sorry, excuse me!” he shouted.
Outside, he found himself in a fetid alley. He saw Cherry Eater’s hurrying figure heading toward the canal.