"None that I can't get around."
Her painted eyebrows rose in surprise; she shook her head. "I always knew you were ruthless, but until this moment I didn't realize how much so."
"Well, what do you think?" Yanagisawa said. "Shall we be partners?"
"I say yes," Lady Chocho said, ready to join him in anything he proposed whether she understood it or not.
But Lady Setsu said, "I refuse to make a major decision in such a hurry. There are other people whose future is at stake."
"Of course," Yanagisawa said. "I didn't mean to imply that the interests of all parties wouldn't be taken into account. Forgive me if I gave you that impression. I was about to suggest that everyone involved should meet and have a chance to approve of the plan."
For a moment Lady Setsu beheld him with silent outrage that he would forsake all sense of propriety and ask her to be his accomplice. But they both knew how much she dreaded the future, the unknown. Better to ally herself with a demon who was familiar than to depend on the whim of strangers.
"I will take the next step, but that is all I will commit to now," she said.
"Good enough," Yanagisawa said. "Shall we have a drink?"
"Oh, yes," Lady Chocho said.
Yanagisawa poured cups of sake from a decanter on the table. Lady Setsu covertly removed a vial from her sleeve and dosed her sake with opium potion. Yanagisawa said, "Here's to our joining forces in the near future."
"I can't wait," Lady Chocho said, batting her eyes at Yanagisawa.
"We'll see about that," Lady Setsu said.
They drank and bowed. The women left the teahouse first. Then Yanagisawa and his men took their leave. As they rode home in the rain, he congratulated himself on a mission almost accomplished.
In the alley outside the teahouse, beneath the window of the room where Yanagisawa had met the two women, a pile of trash stirred. Broken planks shifted; an old bucket foul with rotten fish entrails rolled free as a man dressed in beggar's rags emerged. Toda Ikkyu stood and flexed his cramped muscles. He'd overheard everything Yanagisawa and the women had said. The paper panel that covered the window had blocked out sights but not sound. Now Toda had interesting news to report to Chamberlain Sano-or not.
12
Below the highway between Asakusa and Edo, raindrops pattered into the rice fields. Sano and his entourage rode past pedestrians who looked like moving haystacks in their straw capes. Ahead Sano saw Hirata galloping on horse back toward him from the city.
"Any luck?" Hirata said as he turned his mount and rode alongside Sano.
"Yes and no," Sano said. "We located the place where my cousin Chiyo was dumped by her kidnapper. An oxcart was seen there, but we couldn't find it."
"When you don't want oxcarts, they're all around, blocking the streets and stinking up the city," Marume said. "When you do, there's not a single blessed one in sight."
Sano had led his men back to the construction site where they'd seen oxcarts yesterday, only to find the site deserted due to the rain. Sano and his men had combed the Asakusa district, but all the oxcarts seemed to have vanished.
"We'll have to go to the stables and track down the drivers who were working in Asakusa yesterday and when Chiyo was kidnapped," Sano said.
"Maybe I can save you the trouble," Hirata said.
Sano had figured that Hirata must have good news or he wouldn't have come looking for him, but he was surprised nonetheless. "Don't tell me the police actually investigated Chiyo's kidnapping and turned up some suspects?"
"No," Hirata said, "but their chief clerk says that two other women were kidnapped before your cousin was. Both were missing for a couple of days. Both were found near the places where they were taken."
Sano felt a mixture of excitement and dismay. He hated the thought that two more women had suffered, but the other crimes might provide clues. "Who are these women?"
"One is an old nun named Tengu-in," Hirata said. "She lives in a convent in the Zj Temple district."
"Merciful gods," Fukida said. "Who would rape a nun?"
"She was taken on the first day of the third month and found two days later," Hirata said. "The other is a twelve-year-old girl."
That shocked the detectives speechless. Sano, thinking of his own young daughter, felt sick with horror.
"She was kidnapped on the third day of last month, found two days later. Her name is Fumiko," Hirata said. "I happen to know her father. His name is Jirocho."
"The big gangster?" Sano said.
"None other."
The gangster class had proliferated since the civil war era some hundred years ago, when samurai who'd lost their masters in battles had become rnin and wandered Japan, raiding the villages. Brave peasants had banded together to protect themselves. Today's gangsters were descendants of these heroes. But times had changed. The Tokugawa government enforced law and order throughout Japan. No longer needed to protect the villages, the gangsters had turned to crime. Their ranks had swelled with thieves, con artists, and other dregs of society.
"When I was a police officer, I arrested Jirocho a few times," Hirata said, "for extorting money from market vendors." There were two distinct types of gangster-the bakuto, gamblers who ran illegal gambling dens, and the tekiya, who were associated with trade and sold illicit or stolen merchandise. Jirocho belonged to the latter type. "He made them pay him for not stealing their goods, driving their customers away, and beating them up."
"Why's he still on the loose?" Marume asked.
"Friends in high places," Fukida said.
Hirata nodded. Sano knew that Jirocho and other gang bosses bribed government officials to let them carry out their business. As chamberlain, Sano tried to discourage this corrupt practice, but it was hard to catch the officials colluding with the gangsters, and the gangsters actually benefited the government. They helped to keep the growing merchant class under control and provided public services such as money-lending and security. Still, Sano thought this cooperation between government and gangsters boded ill for the future.
"Well, now Jirocho is a possible witness in a crime rather than the perpetrator," Sano said. "Marume-san, you and Fukida-san will go to the stables and track down our oxcart driver. Hirata-san, you can question Jirocho and his daughter. I'll take the nun."
The Zj Temple district was a city within the city, home to forty-eight subsidiary temples, the Tokugawa mausoleum, and thousands of priests, nuns, monks, and novices. The high stone walls of Keiaiji Convent shut out the noises from the marketplace, the traffic of pilgrims and peddlers in the streets, and the chanting of prayers in nearby monasteries. Pine trees cleansed the air in spacious grounds landscaped with mossy boulders and raked white sand. The large building resembled a samurai mansion rather than the typical convent in which nuns lived in cramped, impoverished austerity. The abbess received Sano in a room furnished with a pristine tatami floor and a mural that showed Mount Fuji amid the clouds.
"I've come to inquire about Tengu-in, your nun who was kidnapped," Sano said.
The abbess wore a plain gray hemp robe, the uniform of Buddhist holy women. Her head was shaved; her scalp glistened with a thin fuzz of silver hair. She was as short and sturdy as a peasant, with broad features set in a square face and an air of authority.
"Ah, yes. It was a dreadful thing to happen," she said. "And to such a virtuous woman, yet."
Sano inferred from her hushed tone that the nun had been raped as well as kidnapped. "My condolences to her, and to you and her sisters," he said. "It must have been very upsetting for everyone here."
The abbess shook her head in regret. "Yes, indeed, especially since Tengu-in was such a favorite."
Her use of the past tense didn't escape Sano. Had her community ostracized Tengu-in because she'd been violated? "Is she still here?"
"Yes, of course," the abbess said. "She's a member of our order for life. What happened to her doesn't change that."