The Cloud Pavilion Read online

  Chiyo gasped. “Is that the girl who was kidnapped?”

  “Yes,” Reiko said. “Her name is Fumiko.” She explained what had happened to the girl.

  “The poor thing.” As Chiyo beheld the girl, the misery on her own face was leavened by compassion.

  “What are we waiting for?” demanded Major Kumazawa. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Sano looked across the bridge and said, “We’ve got company.”

  Reiko saw a pudgy, gray-haired man with sagging jowls stalk up to Sano and Hirata. His sharp, gleaming eyes and the cruel curve of his lips brought to mind a hungry wolf. Three big, muscular fellows with tattoos accompanied him.

  “It’s Jirocho,” Reiko said.

  “Who is he?” Chiyo asked.

  “A big gangster boss. He’s also Fumiko’s father.”

  “Papa!” Fumiko cried.

  Her wild eyes lit with happiness. She stumbled toward him, hobbled by the rope around her ankles, and threw herself at Jirocho. He pushed her away as if she were a stranger who’d dared bump into him. He didn’t even look at his child.

  “Papa,” Fumiko said, her voice broken by tears.

  In the palanquin, Chiyo murmured in sympathy.

  “Honorable Chamberlain. Ssakan Hirata. Good afternoon.” Jirocho bowed in respectful yet perfunctory greeting. “I heard that you arrested the two kidnappers.”

  “You get news quicker than anybody else in Edo,” Hirata said dryly. “But the men we arrested are only suspects at this point.”

  “What are you doing here?” Sano asked Jirocho. His manner was cool and calm, but Reiko sensed his anger at this man who’d broken the law many times and punished his daughter for a crime that wasn’t her fault.

  “I want to see the suspects,” Jirocho said.

  “Why?” Sano said. “So that you can kill them?”

  Jirocho didn’t answer, but his jowls tightened and his predatory eyes glittered. His men grouped around him, his wolf pack.

  “Stay out of this,” Sano said. “If they’re guilty, I’ll see that they’re punished according to the law.”

  “Maybe I can help you figure out whether they’re guilty,” Jirocho said. “Maybe I know them. Maybe I’ve seen them hanging around my daughter.”

  Sano hesitated, and Reiko could feel him thinking that even though he distrusted the gangster, perhaps he needed Jirocho. He’d told her that the suspects had refused to confess and he had no evidence to prove their guilt. “All right,” Sano said. “You can come with us. But keep quiet and don’t interfere.”

  He signaled the prison guards, who opened the gate. He and Hirata led the way inside. As the women climbed out of their palanquin, Chiyo whispered to Reiko, “I don’t know if I can bear this.”

  Reiko took Chiyo’s cold, trembling hands in her own warm ones. “I’ll be with you. We’ll get through it together.”

  She’d been inside Edo Jail before, and she knew what a terrible place it was, but she didn’t see much of it now. When she crossed the threshold, Sano, Major Kumazawa, and their troops closed protectively around her and Chiyo and Fumiko. On the walk through the prison compound, the men blocked Reiko’s view of everything except the upper story of the dungeon. But she heard cries from the prisoners, and the stench was overpowering. Reiko and Chiyo held their sleeves over their noses. Fumiko growled under her breath, like a threatened animal. She kept looking over her shoulder for a glimpse of her father.

  The group moved into a plain wooden building and down a passage. There were chambers furnished with desks, some occupied by samurai officials. Sano ushered Reiko, Chiyo, and Fumiko, Major Kumazawa, and Jirocho into a vacant room. Detectives Marume and Fukida followed. Sliding doors along one wall stood open to a veranda that overlooked a courtyard with gravel strewn on muddy earth around a fireproof store house with mossy plaster walls. Sano positioned a lattice screen across the doorway.

  “Stand close to the screen,” Sano told Chiyo and Fumiko. “Look outside.”

  Chiyo and Fumiko obeyed. Reiko stood between them. They peered through gaps in the lattice. Jirocho, Major Kumazawa, and Sano stationed themselves behind the women. Into the courtyard walked Hirata, escorting the two oxcart drivers. Hirata positioned the men side by side, near the veranda, facing the screen. Chiyo uttered a faint moan and recoiled.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Sano said. “They can’t see you.”

  Avid curiosity filled Reiko as she beheld the suspects. The big, muscular man looked at the ground, his heavy shoulders slumped, his low-browed face sullen. His comrade, slight and wiry, smoothed his long, disheveled hair and grinned nervously. Gaps from missing teeth were ugly black holes in his mouth. Reiko had seen many criminals, and her instincts told her that these men were of that breed.

  “Do you recognize them?” Sano asked. “Be honest.”

  Chiyo gazed at the suspects. Her eyes shone with fearful fascination. “. . . I don’t know.”

  “Well? Which one kidnapped you?” Jirocho barked at his daughter. These were the first words he’d spoken to her.

  Fumiko turned to him, and Reiko could see on her face her longing to please him, to earn her way back home. She looked through the lattice and slowly pointed at the big man.

  Reiko felt her breath catch. Behind her, Sano, Major Kumazawa, and Jirocho stirred. Fumiko’s hand moved hesitantly sideways. Her finger pointed at the other suspect. Then she let her hand drop. She shrugged and frowned hard, as if trying not to cry.

  “She doesn’t know, either,” Jirocho said in disgust.

  Sano called, “Turn them around.”

  Hirata gestured his hand in a circular motion at the suspects. They rotated slowly, then faced the women again. Reiko looked from Chiyo to Fumiko. Their faces were devoid of recognition. She sensed their wish to identify their attackers vying with their duty to be honest.

  “Maybe if we could get a closer look?” Chiyo murmured.

  Sano gave the order. Hirata prodded the two men up the steps, onto the veranda. They stood close enough to touch. Reiko could see the pores in their tanned, weathered skin and smell their odor of urine, sweat, and oxen.

  Fumiko shook her head. Chiyo shuddered, her nose and mouth muffled in her sleeve. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if it was one of them or not.”

  The two men exchanged glances. They’d heard Chiyo. The slight one’s grin broadened; the big one smirked.

  Anger swelled in Reiko. If they were responsible for the kidnapping and rapes, she didn’t want them to get away with it. She didn’t want Chiyo and Fumiko to have suffered this ordeal for nothing. But what could she do?

  A thought occurred to her. “Let us hear their voices,” she said to Sano. “Make them say, ‘Dearest mother, beloved mother,’ and ‘naughty girl.’ ”

  Sano gave the order through the screen. “Dearest mother, beloved mother. Naughty girl,” the big man said in a deep, thick, scratchy voice. The other man echoed him. Chiyo turned to Reiko in despair.

  “I don’t think it’s either of them,” she said. “They both sound too young.”

  “What do you think?” Reiko asked Fumiko.

  The girl shook her head unhappily. Jirocho said, “Well, that’s that.” His face was grim; so were Sano’s and Major Kumazawa’s. The two suspects swaggered with glee.

  “Have you ever seen them before?” Sano asked Jirocho and Major Kumazawa.

  “No,” they said.

  Reiko tried to hide her own disappointment. She didn’t want to make Chiyo and Fumiko feel worse.

  Fumiko suddenly said, “Make them take off their clothes.”

  “What?” Jirocho said, incredulous. He grabbed her arm and yanked her around to face him. “What’s the matter, didn’t you get enough pleasure while you were kidnapped? Do you want some more men? You little whore!”

  He raised his hand to strike her, but Sano shoved him toward the door and said, “I warned you. Get out!”

  As Marume and Fukida led the gangster away, Fumiko whimpered, “Papa!” then,
“I didn’t mean it the way he said.”

  Chiyo moved to the girl’s side. “I understand,” Chiyo said, putting her arm around Fumiko. “You want to see if we can recognize the men’s bodies. Isn’t that right?”

  To Reiko’s surprise, Fumiko leaned into Chiyo’s embrace as she nodded. Reiko saw a tenuous bond form between these two women from different worlds. They had experiences in common that no one else they knew could fully understand.

  Sano ordered the suspects to undress. They dropped their garments onto the veranda. Major Kumazawa said to Chiyo, “You don’t have to look.”

  Her expression was resigned. “Yes, Father, I must.”

  The men stood naked. The big man slouched, surly with embarrassment. The other’s nervous grin took on a lascivious cast. His organ began to curve erect.

  Reiko averted her eyes, sickened by a sudden, unpleasant memory. She’d seen naked men before—beggars on the streets, youths swimming in the river—but only once had she had such a close observation of any except her husband. That had been the man who’d called himself the Dragon King, who’d kidnapped and nearly raped her. Now she felt her heart race and nausea roil her stomach. She kept her gaze on Chiyo and Fumiko.

  Chiyo frowned, pondered the men, and said unhappily, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just can’t remember.”

  Fumiko turned away, her face miserable with disappointment. “He had a big black mole,” she said. “They don’t.”

  It was true: Both suspects’ penises were devoid of moles.

  The big man guffawed and his friend tittered with relief. Fumiko ran out the door. Major Kumazawa said, “We’ve had enough,” and left with Chiyo.

  “Take them back to their cell,” Sano told Hirata.

  The suspects picked up their clothes, and Hirata marched them off. Sano turned to Reiko. “Well.”

  Sharing his frustration, Reiko voiced the thought on both their minds: “The real kidnapper is still at large. What if it’s not one man but three? And how many more women will they hurt before they’re caught?”

  When Sano emerged from Edo Jail with Reiko, he heard screaming and weeping. Jirocho was planted outside the gate with Fumiko on the ground before him, her arms wrapped around his legs. “Papa, please don’t be mad at me,” she cried as she sobbed.

  “Let go, you dirty little animal!” Jirocho shouted, trying to kick her away.

  Chiyo stood near them, watching, her hands clasped under her chin. Beside her, Major Kumazawa said, “Let’s go.”

  His face was stiff with disgust at the scene that Jirocho and Fumiko were making. But Chiyo didn’t move. At the bridge waited Sano’s troops, Jirocho’s gangsters, and the palanquins and bearers that had brought the women to the jail. Prison guards peered out of the watch towers.

  “Papa, why don’t you love me anymore?” Fumiko wailed. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “You couldn’t identify the bastard,” Jirocho said, his face purple with ugly rage. “Are you trying to protect him? Or have you had so many men that you can’t remember what they look like?” He seized Fumiko by her hair, pulled her head up, and slapped her face. “Whore!”

  “Stop that!” Sano commanded.

  As he strode toward Jirocho, the gangster pried Fumiko’s arms off his legs. “Papa, forgive me, I want to go home with you,” she pleaded.

  Jirocho beckoned his men. As they all stalked off, Jirocho threw Sano a baleful glance. Fumiko lay curled on the ground and wept. Even though Sano was furious at Jirocho for punishing the girl, he felt responsible for her suffering. If Sano had caught the culprit, maybe Jirocho would have been willing to reconcile with his daughter. A familiar guilt, heavy and sickening as a physical illness, plagued Sano. Another of his investigations hadn’t produced quick enough results, and people had suffered.

  Chiyo gently lifted Fumiko to her feet, held her, and murmured soothing words. “You can come home with me. Would you like that?”

  Fumiko sobbed brokenheartedly, but she nodded. Major Kumazawa exclaimed, “She’s not setting foot in my house!”

  Chiyo responded with an obstinacy that matched his. “Yes she is, Father.” For the first time Sano saw a family resemblance between them. Chiyo helped Fumiko into the palanquin. The bearers carried the women away.

  “I’m glad Fumiko has someplace safe to live,” Reiko said. “But it must be awful for her to realize that her father isn’t going to take her back.”

  Sano thought of Akiko and couldn’t understand how a man could treat his daughter in such fashion, but he’d never walked in Jirocho’s shoes. “Maybe Fumiko and Chiyo will be good for each other,” he said hopefully. One had lost her parent, the other her children. They might find solace together.

  Major Kumazawa glared after the palanquin, then at Sano. “I don’t like how your investigation is proceeding.”

  Sano didn’t like how his uncle was speaking to him, and if Major Kumazawa were anyone else, Sano would put him in his place without hesitation. Yet Major Kumazawa was the father of a crime victim, and Sano felt guilty because he hadn’t done better by his family.

  “I warned you,” Sano said. “No promises.”

  “You never warned me that my daughter would be dragged to Edo Jail to look at naked men. That’s unheard of.”

  “One can’t predict what will need to be done during an investigation,” Sano said. “Having Chiyo view the suspects was the only way to determine whether I had her kidnapper.”

  “Well, it didn’t work, did it?”

  “I explained to you and Chiyo, beforehand, that either of those men could be guilty or not. And she wanted to come.”

  “And now I have to give room and board to a gangster’s brat.” Major Kumazawa laughed, a sour, rasping chuckle. “Asking you for help was a mistake. I should have known better than to expect anything good from a son of your mother.”

  The outright insult stung Sano and drew a gasp from Reiko. He heard Marume and Fukida grumble under their breath. His forbearance toward Major Kumazawa snapped.

  “I should have known better than to help a man who’s so small-minded that he values pride and convention above his own family.” Sano tasted rage, hot as a fire in his throat. “My mother is fortunate that you cast her out. And so am I.”

  Major Kumazawa started as if Sano had hit him. His features swelled bloodred with fury as he absorbed the implication that Sano had risen higher than anyone brought up in the bosom of the clan. “How dare you—”

  “I dare,” Sano said, reminding his uncle that he was chamberlain, the shogun’s second-in-command. He had another sudden flash of memory. He’d seen his uncle this angry before, on that long-ago occasion at the Kumazawa house. But he couldn’t remember why Major Kumazawa had been angry then. “I suggest you improve your attitude toward me. Otherwise, you might find yourself serving the regime in a much lower capacity, far from Edo. Or maybe not serving at all.”

  Now the blood drained from Major Kumazawa’s face: He understood that Sano had threatened to demote him or banish him from the regime to live in disgrace as a rnin unless he showed Sano due respect. Without a word, he turned, mounted his horse, and galloped across the bridge so fast that his troops had to hurry to catch up.

  Sano’s sense of victory was minimal; he felt as much depleted by the quarrel as angry at his uncle for goading him into showing off his power. Their relationship was going downhill as fast as his investigation was.

  Reiko, Marume and Fukida, and Sano’s other troops tactfully pretended that nothing had happened. No one spoke until Hirata came out of the jail.

  “What do you want to do with the prisoners?” Hirata asked Sano. “Keep them locked up?”

  Sano thought a moment, then said, “No. Let them go.”

  “Let them go?” Reiko regarded him with disbelief. “Even though Chiyo and Fumiko couldn’t identify the suspects, don’t you think those men are guilty? I do.”

  “Let them go, but have them watched,” Sano clarified. “Do you have any detectives who are g
ood at secret surveillance?”

  “Yes,” Hirata said. “I’ll get them over here.”

  “If our suspects are guilty, maybe we can catch them in the act of another kidnapping,” Sano said.

  He looked at the clouded, darkening sky. The guards lit lanterns inside the turrets of the jail. Flames and smoke diffused in the moist air. Sano said to Reiko, “I’ll take you home. We’ve had enough for one day.”

  Sano and Reiko arrived at their estate as the temple bells tolled the late hour of the boar. Stone lanterns glowed along the path to the mansion. The misty air vibrated with the sound of crickets and frogs in the garden, dogs barking and castle patrol guards calling to one another in the distance, and water trickling. Sano, Marume, Fukida, and the troops dismounted from their horses; Reiko climbed out of her palanquin. Sano’s secretary called from the doorway, “Honorable Chamberlain, Toda Ikkyu is waiting to see you.”

  “Maybe our luck is about to change,” Sano said.

  He and Reiko went to the reception room. There, Toda knelt in the light from a metal filigree lantern suspended from the ceiling. Toda said, “I know this is a bit late for a call, but I thought it best not to wait.”

  “Have you brought some information?” Sano asked.

  “Yes. I’ve also brought something that belongs to you.”

  Toda pointed to the corner, where Masahiro sat in the shadows. His expression combined chagrin and fright. His shoulders were hunched up to his ears, as if in expectation of a blow.

  Reiko exclaimed, “Masahiro! Are you all right? Where have you been?”

  “You’d better explain,” Sano told Toda.

  “I was spying on Yanagisawa today. Imagine my surprise when I caught your son doing the same thing.”

  Sano felt shock drop his mouth. Reiko gasped.

  Toda smiled. “I doubted that you would approve. So I brought him home.”

  Sano strode over to Masahiro and crouched in front of him. “Is this true?”

  Masahiro hung his head. “Yes, Father.”

  “You went outside the castle?” Reiko was aghast. “By yourself?” When Masahiro nodded sheepishly, she said, “You know you’re not supposed to do that!”