There a man dressed in black stood before a wall of shelves. At the sound of their footsteps, he paused in the act of straightening a row of books and turned.
“What is it?” he asked the guard. “Who is this man?”
“One of your informers, Toda-san,” the guard answered, looking surprised.
Sano gazed with curiosity at Toda Ikkyu, the first metsuke he’d ever encountered. Seldom had he seen anyone so nondescript. Toda was neither tall nor short, fat nor thin. Of indeterminate age, he had thick black hair that might have given him a youthful appearance, if not for the weary expression in his eyes. His regular features, without particular flaws or beauty, could have belonged to any of a thousand men. Although Sano studied Toda’s face carefully, he doubted whether he would remember it when he left. Perhaps this utter lack of distinction was an advantage for someone in Toda’s profession.
“He is not one of my informers,” Toda was saying in a voice as tired as his expression, “and I have never seen him before in my life.”
“But-but he said-”
Toda broke into the guard’s blustering defense. “I don’t care what he said. Take him away. And see that I receive no more callers today. Can you manage that, or must I speak with your superior?”
The guard’s face darkened. “Come on, you,” he said, shoving Sano toward the door. “I’ll deal with you outside.”
“Wait,” Sano said. “Toda-san.” He bowed. “Please allow me a moment of your time. I have important information for you. It concerns a plot against the shogun.” Seeing the skepticism on Toda’s face, he added, “And it involves your informer, the late Noriyoshi.”
A glimmer of interest enlivened Toda’s eyes. “All right,” he said. “But one moment only.” To the guard: “Wait outside.”
When they were alone, Toda knelt and gestured for Sano to do the same. “First your name and antecedents,” he said, “in order that I may know with whom I am speaking.”
Or whether to believe me, Sano thought as he recited his name and lineage.
To his dismay, Toda frowned and said, “Are you not the yoriki who was recently dismissed by Magistrate Ogyu?”
Bad news traveled fast; there went all his credibility. “Yes,” Sano admitted. “But I ask that you suspend any prejudice against me until you hear what I have to say. Then you can decide whether I’m telling the truth, and whether or not to relay my information to the shogun.” Without waiting for permission, he plunged into his story, beginning with his assignment to the shinjū case.
The nondescript Toda did have one distinctive mannerism. With the tip of his right forefinger, he absently stroked each nail on his left hand, one after the other. He did this in silence while Sano spoke and for a small eternity afterward, his unwavering stare fixed on Sano’s face. From somewhere in the castle grounds came the rapid pop-pop of firecrackers and the more regular percussion of drums. Sano squirmed inwardly.
Finally Toda said, “So. You say that Niu Masahito-not the executed wrestler Raiden-killed Noriyoshi, to prevent him from exposing the Conspiracy of Twenty-One.”
“That’s correct.” Was the metsuke convinced? His neutral tone conveyed nothing. Sano tried to draw hope from the fact that Toda had not thrown him out of the palace. Realizing that he’d forgotten the sandal and rope, he laid them on the floor for Toda’s inspection, and explained their significance. “Here is my proof.”
“You think that young Lord Niu also killed his own sister, either because she, too, had discovered the conspiracy, or because she witnessed a murder. And that the murder of your secretary was actually an unsuccessful attempt on your own life, also perpetrated by Lord Niu?”
“Yes.”
Toda nodded slowly as he began stroking his fingernails again. “A most ingenious piece of fiction,” he murmured.
Sano’s heart sank. “You don’t believe me.” Silently he berated himself for his unrealistic hopes. High-ranking officials achieved their positions by flowing with the current, not resisting it. He should have expected this.
“My apologies if you think that I mean to question your veracity, Sano-san,” Toda said. “I do not. I can see that you truly believe your story. But your motives are clear to me, if not to yourself. First, you seek revenge upon the Nius for what you see as their part in your ill fortune. Second, you wish to prove that you know better than your former superior how to solve a murder case. And third, you wish to assuage your guilt over your secretary’s death. Given your position, how can you expect anyone to believe you?”
“No!” The protest burst from Sano. “I didn’t make this up, and you’re wrong about-”
He caught himself as he realized that Toda’s mind had closed against him the moment he’d given his name. The injustice filled him with outrage. But he tempered his emotions, knowing that right now there were concerns more important than his hurt pride. He couldn’t afford to alienate Toda further.
“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.