Sano Ichiro 6 Black Lotus (2001) Read online

  Yet Hirata had seemed wonderfully oblivious to the financial, political, and class concerns that shadowed every relationship. He behaved as though he liked Midori for herself, and her friendship with Reiko gave her the perfect opportunity to further her acquaintance with him. She spent all her free time at the sōsakan-sama s estate so she could see Hirata whenever his work permitted. They shared a fondness for games, and often played cards together in the evenings. During their talk, laughter, and flirtation, Midori had fallen in love with Hirata. Now she hoped with all her heart to see him today.

  A buzzing noise interrupted Midori's thoughts. Something whizzed past her ear.

  "A wasp!" O-hana cried. The insect swooped down upon her, and she shrieked, covering her head with her arms.

  Her panic was contagious. Midori screamed as the wasp veered straight at her face. She and O-hana clung to each other, running in circles, with the wasp in hot pursuit.

  "Help! Help!" they cried.

  The wasp caught in Midori's long hair, fluttering and buzzing furiously against her neck. "Get it off me!" she screamed. Anticipating the sharp sting, she fell to her knees.

  O-hana stared in terror and backed away. Then a male voice said, "What's going on here?"

  Midori looked up to see Hirata, sturdy and youthful at age twenty-three, his two swords at his waist, regarding them with curiosity. Joy leapt within Midori. "There's a wasp in my hair!" she cried.

  'â– â– ' Hirata knelt beside her. Carefully he picked out the wasp by its wings, carried it across the garden, and tossed it up into the air. The wasp flew away. Hirata returned to Midori and O-hana.

  "You're safe," he said, laughing.

  Midori scrambled to her feet, gazing upon him in bliss. He was so brave and wonderful. It didn't matter that his face was too wide and his mouth too large for him to be called handsome. She yearned for his love and longed to marry him, even though her family would shun a match with a former policeman, while Hirata's position merited a better bride than the daughter of an outside lord. However, one evening two years ago, something had happened to make her believe that her dreams could come true.

  She and Hirata had been walking here in the garden together when a summer storm descended. They took refuge in the covered pavilion and stood side by side, listening to the thunder, watching the lightning flash through the dark clouds and curtains of rain.

  "This is pleasant," Hirata said.

  "Yes," Midori murmured. Look at me, she pleaded silently. Tell me you love me!

  Hirata turned and smiled down at her. "I always feel happy when I'm with you, Midori-san. You're so easy to talk to, and you make life so bright."

  Thrilled by his words, Midori couldn't speak. She looked down so that. Hirata wouldn't guess what a stir he'd caused in her. Then his strong, warm hand closed around hers. The thunder boomed and rain streamed down while Midori waited in breathless anticipation.

  Then Hirata spoke softly, as if to himself: "The sōsakan-sama and Lady Reiko are so happy together and so right for each other that it's as if theirs wasn't an arranged marriage but a love match. That's what I'd like someday. I wonder…"

  Did he love her? Was he thinking that he'd like to marry her? Wild hope dizzied Midori. But Hirata fell silent. Perhaps he wasn't ready to declare his intentions, and she was too shy to encourage him. Soon the storm ended; Hirata went back to work. Several days later, before Midori could see Hirata again, fate sabotaged her dreams.

  The shogun sent Sano to investigate a murder in the imperial capital. Sano had left Hirata in charge of the detective corps during his absence, and the responsibility had driven any thoughts of love from Hirata's mind. He labored night and day, overseeing the estate, investigating crimes. The shogun began to rely upon Hirata for companionship and counsel. Hirata still sought out Midori during moments in his busy schedule, but all he talked about was his work.

  Then the shogun spent a few days at his villa in the hills, taking Hirata along as a bodyguard. Late one night, the shogun heard strange noises outside and became hysterical with fright. Hirata went to investigate and found burglars breaking into the house. After a bloody swordfight, he arrested them, winning the shogun's fervent gratitude. News of the incident spread. Bakufu officials who'd once ignored Hirata as Sano's mere assistant began cultivating his friendship. The Edo Castle women took new notice of him. Whenever he came to the palace, Midori saw him surrounded by fawning maids and ladies.

  Now O-hana minced up to Hirata. "A million thanks for saving us from that awful wasp," she said, smiling coyly.

  "It was a pleasure." Hirata beamed at the maid.

  "To what do we owe the honor of your company?" O-hana said.

  "I was just delivering some reports to the sōsakan-sama's office," Hirata answered, "when I heard you screaming and stopped to see what was the matter."

  O-hana giggled; Hirata laughed. Midori could almost see their mutual attraction sparkle in the air. Her spirits plummeted. These days Hirata was always flirting with someone else instead of her. Even worse, he'd received marriage proposals from prominent clans who sought to wed their daughters to him. Sano acted as Hirata's go-between, and Midori overheard them planning miai, meetings with prospective brides. This competition for her beloved's favor horrified Midori, as did the change in Hirata.

  All the attention had swelled his head, and on the rare occasions when Midori saw him, he seemed to have forgotten whatever he'd once felt for her. He would greet her casually, then dash off to work, a party, or another miai. Now, a year later, Hirata was still riding the wave of popularity.

  "Look out, there's another wasp!" he exclaimed, pointing at the sky. When O-hana looked up, he made a buzzing sound and tickled her arm. The maid shrieked. Hirata laughed, and she pouted prettily at him.

  Suddenly Midori couldn't bear for Hirata to ignore her. "O-hana!" she said sharply. "You're supposed to be taking care of Masahiro-chan, not playing around. Go!"

  O-hana gave Midori a resentful look and flounced into the house. Hirata's grin told Midori that he knew why she'd sent the maid away, and enjoyed having two women vying for his attention. Midori felt ashamed of her jealousy and his vanity. '

  "Well, I must be on my way." Hirata radiated self-importance. "Lots of things to do, people to see."

  Midori believed that deep inside his spirit he still cared for her. How could she restore him to his senses?

  "When will you be back?" she said wistfully.

  "Not until very late, I expect."

  Midori resisted the urge to ask when she would see him again. How could she persuade him that she was as right for him as Reiko was for Sano, and that a marriage between them would be the love match he'd claimed to desire?

  "Good-bye," Hirata said.

  As he walked away, sudden inspiration struck Midori. "Wait," she called.

  "What is it?" Impatience shaded Hirata's tone, but he stopped and faced her.

  "This… this new case is important, isn't it?" Midori faltered. Her idea seemed brilliant, yet perhaps too bold.

  "Very important," Hirata said. "Arson is a serious crime, especially at the shogun's family temple."

  Taking a deep breath, Midori mustered her courage. "Maybe I could help you investigate."

  Hirata stared in amazement. "You?" Then he threw back his head and laughed. "That's a good joke. You almost fooled me."

  "It's not a joke," Midori said. A flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Hirata's laughter hurt, but at least she'd gotten his attention, and all she had to offer him was her willingness to do anything for him. "I really want to help."

  "How? What could you do?" Hirata's expression betrayed skepticism.

  "Um…" Not having thought beyond her initial idea, Midori improvised, "Whatever you wish of me?"

  He regarded her with an affectionate mockery that deepened her hurt. "Detective work is too difficult for a lady."

  "But Reiko helps the sōsakan-sama," Midori said. Reiko's work with Sano appeared to be a key element in the
ir happy marriage; it had given Midori the idea that she and Hirata might develop a similar arrangement.

  "Reiko is the daughter of a magistrate," Hirata countered. "She learned about crime in the Court of Justice, while you know nothing about investigating a murder."

  "I could learn by working with you." Midori had conceived her plan as a way for them to spend time together, so she could impress him with her devotion. She had no real desire to be a detective, but she resented Hirata's comparing her unfavorably to Reiko, because she felt inferior to her beautiful, clever friend. Now Midori wanted to prove herself as good as Reiko.

  She said, "You could teach me what to do."

  Hirata shook his head in exasperation. "Detective work is also dangerous," he said. "Reiko is an expert swordswoman; she can defend herself, but you wouldn't stand a chance in a fight." With gentle but unflattering scrutiny, Hirata appraised Midori's soft, slender body, which rarely performed physical activities more strenuous than fetching and carrying for Lady Keisho-in; her dainty hands, which had never held a weapon. "You could get hurt, or even killed. Did you think of that?"

  Midori hadn't. She knew Hirata was only being practical, not deliberately cruel, but her spirits sank. He wouldn't accept her help, and she couldn't think of any other way to get closer to him. As her hopes for winning Hirata's love dwindled, Midori bowed her head, blinking away tears.

  "Why, you're afraid of a tiny little wasp," Hirata teased. "How could you dare to go out in the world of evil criminals?" Then his voice turned gentle: "Oh, come on. Don't look so sad. You don't really want to play detective, do you?" Hirata touched Midori's chin. "Let me see your pretty smile."

  Midori's lips trembled as she tried to comply.

  "That's better," Hirata said. "Now you just put those silly thoughts out of your mind, all right?"

  Reluctantly, Midori nodded.

  "I'll see you soon." Hirata patted her head as if she were a child, or a dog. Then he strode away.

  As Midori stared after him, a spark of anger burned through her humiliation. That he should patronize her this way! Now she decided to show Hirata that she was worthier than he thought. Wiping away her tears, she tossed her head defiantly. She would do whatever it took to prove herself as good as Reiko, and win Hirata's love.

  Through the crowded streets of the Nihonbashi merchant district, Hirata rode upon his dappled white horse. Peasants scurried out of his way. Passing samurai, noting the Tokugawa crests on his silk garments, bowed respectfully. Hirata felt as though he owned the narrow alleys and open marketplaces; the wares colorfully arrayed in the shops; the noisy throngs; the cloudless blue sky. Beneath his wide-brimmed wicker hat, a satisfied smile broke through his dignified poise. Life had turned out much better than he'd ever believed possible.

  Four years ago, Hirata had walked these same streets as a doshin --- patrol officer, the lowest rank of the police force. He'd expected to spend his entire career breaking up brawls and arresting petty criminals, living in cramped barracks, marrying a woman from another doshin family, and raising a son who would inherit the humble station that he'd inherited from his own father. Then chance had brought him and the shogun's sōsakan-sama together. His loyalty and skill had earned him his current position as Sano's chief retainer.

  Yet his early days at Edo Castle had been plagued by fear of making a mistake and disgracing himself while supervising a hundred other retainers who were mostly older, more experienced, and from better backgrounds than he. The pressure to perform well had kept Hirata in a perpetual state of anxiety, but hard work had brought eventual success and increased confidence. Now he was no longer the diffident, overly serious self upon whom he looked back with amusement. The shogun doted on him; everyone courted his favor; prominent clans vied for the privilege of marrying a daughter to him. As soon as he and Sano finished the investigation into the crimes at the Black Lotus Temple, they would decide which beautiful, wealthy lady would be his wife.

  The thought of women provoked a memory that disturbed Hirata's complacency. What had gotten into Midori today? She'd always been a sweet, lighthearted girl, but now she was acting so strangely. Why did she suddenly want to be a detective? Hirata liked Midori; they'd had good times together, but her foolishness baffled him. While he dismounted outside the high stone walls and ironclad gates of police headquarters, Hirata shook his head. Women! Who could understand them?

  Guards bowed to him; a groom took charge of his horse. A doshin, arriving with a trio of civilian assistants and a shackled prisoner, said, "Welcome, Hirata-san," and let him enter the compound first. As he walked past barracks and stables, former colleagues bowed greetings to him. In the reception room of the main building, square pillars supported a low ceiling hung with unlit paper lanterns. Sun filtered through the open skylights and barred windows into a haze of smoke from the tobacco pipes of citizens gathered around a raised platform. Upon this, four clerks knelt at desks, receiving visitors and dispatching messengers.

  "Good afternoon, Hirata-san," said the middle-aged chief clerk, Uch-ida. His mobile, comic features stretched in a wide smile. "What can we do for you today?"

  Hirata often used police headquarters as a source of information, and Uchida was the central repository for news and gossip. "I need your help in identifying the woman and child from the fire at the Black Lotus Temple," Hirata said.

  "Then you wish to know whether any missing persons have been reported?" Uchida said. At Hirata's assent, the clerk's expression turned doleful. "Unfortunately, it's not easy to trace individuals in this city."

  "I know," Hirata said. The townspeople belonged to groups of households, each with a headman in charge of recording births, deaths, arrivals, and departures among his group. Officials at Edo Castle monitored daimyo and bakufu households. The huge volume of data was stored at various temples that kept census records. Within the police department, two hundred forty doshin reported incidents in their patrol districts to their supervisors, fifty yoriki who maintained archives at their offices. Thus, the information Hirata sought existed, but wasn't easily accessible. "That's why I'm hoping you know something useful."

  "Well, I have heard of a few disappearances." Uchida's face arranged itself into an exaggerated frown of concentration. "A sixteen-year-old courtesan escaped from the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter in the spring."

  "She's too young to be the woman in the fire," Hirata said. Sano had sent him a message from Edo Morgue, describing the mystery victims.

  "A dock worker from Radish Quay came in last month and begged us to find his senile mother, who'd wandered off."

  "Too old."

  "There was a woman who ran away from the Suruga Hill district a few days ago. She's thirty-four. Her husband is a grocer."

  "That's a possibility." After getting the husband's and wife's names, Hirata said, "Have any little boys gone missing?"

  "One in Kyobashi." Hirata's hopes rose, but then Uchida said, "He's nine years old." The child in the cottage had been much younger, according to Dr. Ito. "And the only other missing persons I know of are all men."

  "Oh, well," Hirata said, undaunted.

  He had supreme confidence in himself and his luck, and a bright idea that could save him long hours of perusing dusty archives. He thanked Uchida and walked to a large office at the rear of the building, where twenty clerks sat at desks, preparing memoranda and reports. When Hirata entered the room, they all ceased working and bowed.

  "I order you to draft a notice," Hirata said. He was gratified by the alacrity with which the clerks laid out fresh paper and took up their writing brushes. When he'd been a lowly doshin, these snobbish sons of high officials had begrudged him any attention. " 'The shogun's sōsakan-sama wishes to learn the identities of a woman and child found dead in a fire at the Black Lotus Temple,' " he dictated. After reciting Sano's description of the victims, he continued, " 'Persons with information must immediately report it to Edo police headquarters.'

  When the clerks finished writing, Hirata said, "M
ake a thousand copies of that. But first, write this memorandum and send copies to every yoriki: 'Each doshin shall post the notice on every public notice board and deliver the order to every neighborhood headman in his district.' "

  Brushes flew as the clerks reproduced the notice. Hirata took a few copies to post along his way to Suruga Hill. As he walked through the reception room, Uchida beckoned to him. "If I may be so bold as to offer some advice?" The chief clerk spoke in a low voice so no one else would hear, his expression grave: "The higher one rises, the farther the distance to fall. By succumbing to pride and ambition, one may end up losing everything that really matters."

  Hirata laughed. "Thank you for the warning, but you needn't worry about me."

  He left police headquarters with a feeling of accomplishment. If the grocer's runaway wife was the murdered woman, perhaps he could soon solve the mystery of who had killed her and the other victims and set the fire. If not, he would begin searching the archives. In the meantime, public response to his notices would surely produce some useful information.

  And if he had a chance, he would find out why Midori was behaving so strangely.

  * * *

  7

  I seek living beings consumed by the suffering

  Of birth, old age, sickness, and sorrow.

  To all who accept my truth, I give supreme delight.

  -----FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA

  Police Commander Oyama's residence was located southeast of Edo Castle in Hatchobori, near the yoriki compound where Sano had lived while serving in the police force. The Hatchobori district was also known for its many carpenters. Sano rode his horse past workshops where the carpenters sawed, pounded, carved, and polished raw wood into doors, rafters, floorboards, pillars, and furniture. Sawdust scintillated like motes of gold in the warm afternoon sunlight. Behind high fences stood the mansions of merchants grown wealthy by supplying timber to a city where fires necessitated regular rebuilding. Up and down the canals floated barges heaped with wood.