"Fujio, you are accused of the murder of the courtesan Lady Wisteria," said Magistrate Aoki.
Hirata wasn't surprised; knowing how Aoki had rushed Treasury Minister Nitta to trial, he'd anticipated this. But as he and his men knelt at the side of the room, he noticed a woman on the shirasu near Fujio. She, too, wore a hemp robe and chains. Her drab hair hung in a braid down her thin back. Her elegant profile seemed carved by despair. It was Lady Wisteria's yarite, Momoko. Shock jolted Hirata. Why was the chaperone here?
"Momoko, you are accused of abetting Fujio in the murder." Magistrate Aoki's wrinkled bitter-melon face wore a prideful, smug look. "The pair of you shall therefore be tried together."
Hirata and his detectives exchanged glances of amazed consternation. The corpse in the cottage still hadn't been definitely identified as Wisteria. The evidence against Fujio had weakened when his family and friends confirmed that he'd been far from the cottage during the crucial time period. And there was no evidence at all to implicate Momoko in the crime. What on earth was Magistrate Aoki doing?
Then Hirata understood. Aoki had had second thoughts about convicting the treasury minister, and believed he might have erred. As long as other suspects existed, Aoki faced the chance that Sano would prove one of them guilty of Lord Mitsuyoshi's murder and him guilty of subverting justice. Aoki wanted to eliminate Fujio and Momoko so that even if the shogun decided Nitta had been wrongly condemned, Magistrate Aoki would have already executed the only other possible culprits. He would be safe because Sano's investigation would have no reason, to continue. And the second murder had given Aoki the opportunity to fulfill his corrupt aims at the expense of two people who might be innocent. Outrage filled Hirata.
"In the interest of saving trouble, I shall dispense with the usual formalities and summarize the relevant facts of the case," Magistrate Aoki said to the assembly.
"Fujio had a love affair with Wisteria that continued in secret after he married a daughter of the man who owns the Great Miura brothel. Wisteria threatened to tell Fujio's father-in-law about the affair unless Fujio got her out of Yoshiwara. But he didn't have enough money to free her, and he didn't want to lose his wife, his home, and his livelihood, as he would if his father-in-law learned he was an adulterer. Hence, Fujio decided to kill Wisteria to keep her quiet."
Hirata listened, incredulous. However likely a story this sounded, Magistrate Aoki offered no evidence whatsoever that it was true. And he apparently didn't intend to present any witnesses. None existed, as far as Hirata knew.
"Fujio told Wisteria he would help her escape," Magistrate Aoki continued. "He hired a palanquin and bearers to wait outside Yoshiwara. He planned to sneak Wisteria out of the ageya, and the sentries at the gate would let her through if he bribed them. The palanquin would carry her to his secluded cottage, where he could murder her."
But of course, Magistrate Aoki had the authority to dispense with legal protocol if he chose, Hirata realized. Watching the defendants, he pitied them even while he acknowledged the possibility that they were guilty. Fujio sat quiet and composed, but Momoko looked shrunken like a wounded animal, and Hirata could hear her quick, rasping breaths. This was a mere case of two commoners accused of conspiring to kill another. Fujio and Momoko were powerless to resist, and the bakufu didn't care what happened to them.
From outdoors came shrill yells, and thumps against the wall of the building. Magistrate Aoki ignored the sounds. "However," he intoned, "Fujio couldn't manage his crime by himself. He had to perform at the ageya that night. He couldn't risk getting caught helping his father-in-law's courtesan run away because his secret would come out. And performing would give him an alibi for Wisteria's disappearance. So he engaged an accomplice."
The magistrate gestured his wizened hand at Momoko. "This yarite was jealous of Wisteria and hated her. Momoko was also a friend of Fujio, and when he told her his plan, she was glad to help him. While he sang at the party, Momoko crept upstairs to the room where Wisteria was entertaining Lord Mitsuyoshi. The hour was late, and the lovers had been drinking. Momoko arrived to find them both asleep-or so she thought, until she saw that Mitsuyoshi was dead. Treasury Minister Nitta had sneaked into the room and stabbed him while Wisteria slept."
Momoko whimpered, shivering; her chains clinked.
"She was horrified," Magistrate Aoki said, "but she went through with Fujio's plan. She awakened Wisteria and dressed the frightened courtesan in a hooded cloak she'd brought to disguise Wisteria. Then Momoko hurried Wisteria downstairs, out the back door, and through the streets to the gate."
Shrieks erupted outside the courtroom. The door shuddered under furious banging. On the far side of it, female voices pleaded; male voices threatened. The audience and guards turned in alarm.
"What is that infernal racket?" Magistrate Aoki demanded.
"It seems that the women from the crowd outside have gotten into the building," one of his secretaries said, "and they want to see the accused man."
Fujio looked over his shoulder and gave Hirata a rueful but proud grin: Even when he was facing certain doom, he enjoyed his celebrity.
"Well, they shan't interrupt this trial." Magistrate Aoki pitched his voice over the rising din: "Momoko bribed the gate sentries with money Fujio had given her. They let Wisteria out of the pleasure quarter, and she rode away in the palanquin. Then Momoko rushed back to the ageya. She told Fujio that Wisteria had escaped safely, but Lord Mitsuyoshi had been murdered. She was terrified that she would be blamed because her hairpin was the weapon.
"Fujio cleverly told Momoko to go back upstairs, then come running down, screaming that Lord Mitsuyoshi was dead, as if she'd just discovered the body. Momoko was later arrested, but Fujio had evaded suspicion and was free to do as he pleased. He traveled to the cottage where Wisteria was hiding. He beat her to death and left her body to rot."
The story was plausible enough that Fujio and Momoko might really have contrived the murder as Magistrate Aoki claimed. Yet Hirata wouldn't believe it without proof that Aoki hadn't invented the whole tale.
Now the magistrate gazed sternly at the accused pair. "Have you anything to say in your own defense?"
Hirata lost all tolerance for this travesty of justice. Before Fujio or Momoko could answer, he rose and strode toward the dais. Everyone stared. "Honorable Magistrate, I'm stopping this trial until you show some real evidence that these people did what you say they did," he said.
Magistrate Aoki's eyes glittered like dark, flinty pebbles as he gave Hirata a contemptuous look. "Your master tried to stop one of my trials. You won't succeed where he failed. And unless you want a reputation for interfering with the law, you'd best keep quiet."
The door burst open. A horde of women stampeded into the courtroom. "Fujio-san! Fujio-san!" they screamed. Possessed by hysteria and ardor, samurai ladies, nuns, merchant women, and servant girls rushed toward the hokan. Fujio waved and beamed at them.
"Stop!" Magistrate Aoki shouted at the women, then ordered the guards, "Get them out of here!"
The guards pushed back the mob. Women moaned, struggled, tore their hair, and wept. They overwhelmed the guards and fell to their knees, occupying every empty space on the courtroom floor. Magistrate Aoki grimaced in disgust, then returned his attention to Fujio and Momoko.
"Have you anything to say in your own defense?" he asked, clearly determined to ignore the interruption.
"I didn't do it!" Momoko's desperate wail rose over the noise.
Hirata, still standing near the dais, watched with horror and pity as the yarite simpered at Magistrate Aoki. Fluttering her eyelids, she wriggled her body in a grotesque attempt to seduce, and cried, "Please believe that I'm innocent!"
The magistrate's flinty gaze was merciless. "I pronounce you guilty as an accomplice to murder. You are sentenced to death."
Guards bore the weeping, swooning Momoko through the crowd, out of the room. Magistrate Aoki addressed Fujio: "What do you say for yourself?"
The room fe
ll silent as the women waited for their idol to speak. Fujio said in a clear, ringing voice, "I confess."
An uproar of screaming and weeping burst from the women. Young girls beat their heads on the floor; the nuns chanted prayers. Magistrate Aoki yelled orders for the women to be quiet and the guards to remove them. Fujio struggled to his feet, weighted by the shackles. Slowly he turned toward the crowd. His noble, somber mien quieted the women. Tearful adoration shone on their faces as they beheld him.
"Thank you, Hirata-san, for trying to help me," Fujio said. "Thank you, honorable ladies, for your favor. But I know when I'm beaten, and I'd like to leave this life with grace. Therefore, I will sing my confession in a song I've written."
He looked to Magistrate Aoki, who frowned but nodded. Inhaling deeply, Fujio donned a look of intense concentration. He paused on the verge of the performance of his career, as suspense hushed the court. Then he sang in a stirring, melancholy voice:
"Love is a garden of many flowers,
Where the rose, peony, and iris unfurl their petals to the sun.
My life was a garden of beautiful women,
Which I wandered to my heart's delight, sampling every blossom.
But in the garden hides a flower of death,
Whose sap is poison, and its thorns sharp as knives.
Into my life came the Lady Wisteria
Whose charms lured me to my downfall.
We loved each other with a passion as hot and bountiful as summer
Until anger and hatred poisoned our paradise.
I bruised the soft petals of her skin, I crushed the fragile stem of her body, I drew the sap of her blood,
Until my Wisteria lay dead before me.
Now love is an empty wasteland,
Where harsh winds blow over weeds, rocks, and bones.
My life is a road to the execution ground,
Which I walk in hopeless misery toward my death."
Hands upturned, body slumped, and his expression tragic, Fujio let his last note fade in the silence. Then a thunder of cheers, applause, and sobbing burst from the women. Fujio bowed. Magistrate Aoki looked irritated by the spectacle.
"I pronounce you guilty of murder and sentence you to death by decapitation," he said.
As the guards escorted Fujio out of the room, the women followed him in a wailing, sobbing procession.
Hirata dreaded telling Sano that their last two suspects would be dead before they could resume the investigation.
27
Line up the soldiers, Masahiro-chan," said Reiko.
Squatting on the nursery floor, the little boy carefully positioned his toy horsemen, archers, and swordsmen as Reiko and his old nurse O-sugi watched.
"That's very good." Reiko smiled at her son, but her mind was on Sano. Ever since he'd left for the palace, she'd waited in fearful suspense for him to return from his meeting with the shogun. She longed to know what was happening.
A loud crash from outside startled her and Masahiro and O-sugi. It sounded as if someone had broken down the garden gate. Then Reiko heard muttering and stomping. Puzzled, she rose, opened the door, stepped onto the veranda, and saw Sano in the garden. Head down, fists clenched, he stalked around trees. His feet trampled flowerbeds; his gait was unsteady.
"I can't stand it," he muttered. Breath puffed from him in white vapor clouds that rapidly formed and dispersed in the cold, sunlit air. "I can't stand it anymore!"
Alarmed by his strange behavior, Reiko hurried across the garden to Sano. "What's happened?" she cried.
Sano whirled toward her, his eyes wild and face contorted by fierce emotion. "Lady Yanagisawa brought the pillow book too late." He continued prowling the garden while Reiko ran after him. "The shogun had already read it. He now suspects me of murdering Lord Mitsuyoshi!"
"Oh, no." Reiko stopped, and her hand clasped her throat as horror and comprehension flooded her. She'd never seen Sano this upset because nothing this bad had ever happened before.
"That despicable, scheming, foul Hoshina got hold of the book. He made sure His Excellency saw it." As Sano poured out a disjointed account of the meeting, his arms lashed out at bushes that got in his way. Reiko realized that he wasn't just upset, but furious. "Hoshina branded me a traitor! I barely managed to convince the shogun to give me a chance to prove I'm innocent!"
Reiko caught up with Sano and reached for his arm. "Everything will be all right," she said, trying to soothe him despite her own terror.
But Sano careened backward across the grass, shouting, "For four years I've done everything the shogun has asked of me. I've shed my blood for honor!" Sano halted and tore open his garments to reveal the scars on his torso. "I know His Excellency owes me nothing in return, and I wish for nothing except for him to see me as the loyal retainer that I am!"
Reiko noticed O-sugi and Masahiro standing on the veranda, gaping as Sano raved. "Go back inside," she called to them, then urged Sano, "Please calm yourself. Come in the house before you freeze."
He appeared not to hear her. "You'd think that once-just once-His Excellency could have faith in me and disregard the slander of my enemies," Sano said, addressing the world at large. "But no-he was quick to believe everything Hoshina said against me. He was ready to condemn me on the spot, without even hearing my side of the story!" Sano gave a bitter laugh. "The only thing that saved me is that I've been in these situations enough times to know how to talk my way out of them."
Although the shogun's frequent injustices toward Sano pained her, Reiko had never heard him complain. The Black Lotus case had taxed his endurance, and this outrage had finally shattered it. Frightened for her husband, and frightened of him, Reiko crept toward Sano.
"You'll get out of this one, too," she said. "The shogun will trust you again."
"Oh, no. He won't." Eyes dark with anger, Sano backed away from her. "Because I'm finished. I've had enough violent death, enough dirty politics, enough of trying to please a master who always threatens to kill me." He pumped his fists at his sides and threw back his head. "I can't stand any more!"
Reiko gasped. "What will you do?" she said, and heard her voice quaver with fear. If Sano renounced his servitude to the shogun, he would lose his livelihood and home as well as his honor. Her cold hands pressed her cheeks. "Where will we go?"
"I don't know." Sano resumed his blind, furious strides around the garden. "I don't care, as long as it's far from Edo Castle and everyone here!"
"But you can't just give up everything," Reiko said, following him in panic. "Please think about Masahiro's future." Sano knew the hardship of growing up the son of a ronin. Surely he wouldn't want the same for Masahiro.
"I am thinking of it! I won't have my son trapped in the same impossible circumstances as I!"
A branch of an azalea bush snagged his sleeve. With a cry of rage, Sano drew his sword and began hacking viciously at the bush. Branches and twigs flew at every touch of his blade, while he shouted curses. Reiko shrank away from him in stark, wide-eyed terror. This wasn't her husband; it was a demon who'd possessed him.
Suddenly Sano halted. With an anguished groan, he flung away his weapon. He sagged to his knees before the mutilated bush, his temper spent. Shudders convulsed him. Reiko's terror dissolved. She went to Sano and put her arms around him.
Inside his private chamber, Sano sat wrapped in a quilt, drinking a hot herbal infusion that Reiko had given him to restore his spirits, while she knelt watching anxiously.
"I'm sorry," he said.
And he was sorry-for saying deplorable things; for succumbing to emotion and displaying weakness; for destroying the bush in a fit of undignified temper; for scaring Reiko. He hadn't realized how much bad will had built up inside him. Releasing it had given him an exhilarating sense of freedom; but now, although he felt more peaceful than he had in ages, he was deeply ashamed. And nothing had changed. The shogun still suspected him of murdering Lord Mitsuyoshi; Police Commissioner Hoshina was still determined to incriminate him. If he w
anted to survive, Sano mustn't lose his self-control again.
"Do you really mean to give up your post?" Reiko asked, her manner still troubled.
"No." Sano's moment of rebellion had passed. He had nowhere to go, and he couldn't sacrifice his honor or his family's future. Nor could he sacrifice the vocation that was his path along the Way of the Warrior, the strict code of duty, obedience, and courage by which samurai lived.
"Then what will you do?" Reiko said.
"I'll find the real killer, prove my innocence, and regain the shogun's trust." Determination and a desire for justice rekindled in Sano. "It will be hard, because all the clues have so far led nowhere, but there's still hope."
Laura Joh Rowland - Sano Ichiro 07 - Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria Page 25
