Junko's humming stopped. There was a loud crash. Sano looked over and met the girl's stricken eyes. Quickly she bent and began picking up broken pieces of the vase she'd been holding. The Chinese vendor assailed her with angry shouts.
oClumsy girl, Urabe fumed. oNow I'll have to pay for that vase. What were you saying?
Sano noticed a furtive, listening air about Junko. Why was she interested in this part of the conversation? He repeated his comment, then added, oDo you have any idea what's causing the lights?
Urabe picked at his mole. oNever bothered to go look. I'm too busy to waste time on things with no profit in them.
Realizing he would get no further with Urabe at present, Sano took his leave. Outside the settlement, he pondered his next move. The day was drawing to a close. Smoke rose from chimneys; orange-robed priests filed uphill toward the temples for evening rites. But for Sano, much work remained. He must requestion Chief Ohira and the Deshima guards, confront Peony with Urabe's statement, and ask the barbarians about Spaen's relations with Japanese citizens.
He'd mounted his horse and started toward the harbor, when someone ran out the settlement gate past him. It was Junko. Pulling a shawl over her head, she dashed uphill.
Sano considered her odd reaction to his mention of the mysterious lights. Perhaps she knew something about Urabe's dealings with the Dutch. And, in spite of himself, he felt drawn to Junko because of her fleeting resemblance to Aoi.
He turned his horse and rode after her.
Chapter 12
UP THE HILL Junko hurried, weaving through the crowds. Soon she began to pant. Unaccustomed to vigorous exercise, her slender legs ached. She dreaded the consequences should her father learn that she'd again defied his orders, but her yearning heart propelled her toward her forbidden lover.
Until recently, she'd accepted the idea of marriage to a man chosen for his wealth and business acumen. She'd endured countless meetings with unattractive potential husbands. Then, at the town's last autumn festival, she'd met a man with whom she'd fallen instantly and deeply in love.
oHe's too young, too poor, and has no business experience, her father had scoffed when she voiced her preference. oAnd his family would never consent to your marriage anyway; they'll want him to marry into an important samurai clan. Forget him.
But Junko had cast aside fourteen years of proper upbringing and rebelled. They'd been meeting secretly for almost a year now, whenever his work schedule allowed and she could sneak away from home "until two months ago, when her father had caught her climbing out the window.
oI won't have my daughter whoring around, he raged; chasing her through the house, a bamboo cane in hand.
Junko sobbed as he rained blows upon her back. oPlease, Father, I love him! We want to be married.
oYou'll marry the man I choose!
Afterward Urabe had hired a chaperone to watch Junko. He intensified his search for an appropriate match for her. Junko hid her heartbreak, praying that her father would reconsider her request. Today, desperation had forced her to approach him again. What she'd overheard between him and the ssakan-sama had driven her to seek her lover. Escaping her chaperone, Junko had fled the Chinese settlement.
Now she ran past the walled daimyo estates above the merchant district. Soon she left behind the summer villas that clung to the hills, following a narrow, winding road up into the forest. The air grew cooler and thinner. Junko's heart thudded and her lungs heaved, but she didn't slow her frantic pace. Taking a shortcut through the woods, she scaled bluffs, climbing over rocks and tripping on fallen branches until at last she reached her destination.
A tall, thin structure with a pointed tile roof, the watchtower was one of several that crowned Nagasaki's hills. Narrow, barred windows pierced the weathered plank walls; from the room at the top, a larger, unobstructed window overlooked the harbor. There Junko saw a glint of light. Joy shot through her. He was there, watching through his spyglass for approaching ships.
Out of breath and belatedly cautious, Junko hesitated beneath the trees at the base of the tower. Evening's chill darkness seemed to rise from the loamy, fragrant earth, absorbing the daylight. Crickets and locusts shrilled; birds twittered; the cool wind rustled the leaves. But Junko detected no sign of human presence. Quickly she slipped through the tower doorway and ascended the stairs that spiraled upward into the shaft.
From the top, a young, male voice shouted, oWho goes there?
oKiyoshi, it's me! Junko cried eagerly.
His footsteps pounded down the stairs. Almost sobbing with happiness, Junko climbed faster. They met halfway up, beside a window that admitted light into the narrow stairwell. Junko halted two steps below Kiyoshi. She drank in the sight of him.
He looked as beautiful as ever, but his sensitive face had somehow aged since they'd last met. New shadows in his eyes lent him a somber maturity far beyond his fifteen years. In his gray uniform, he seemed an unapproachable stranger. A chord of alarm reverberated in Junko's breast. Then Kiyoshi smiled, and the familiar youthful exuberance animated his features. Junko's alarm yielded to joy, and she smiled too.
oIts good to see you, Junko, Kiyoshi said, obut you took a big risk coming here. Your father will beat you if he finds out. There are hoodlums in the streets, outlaws in the hills. You could have been hurt. Promise me you'll be more careful in the future.
oI promise, Junko said happily, taking his hand.
This was what she loved most about him: the way he cared more for others than for himself. He defended peasants against bullying samurai, though his comrades mocked his compassion. He worked long hours in the watchtower and the harbor patrol, and studied martial arts and the Dutch language, not for personal advancement but to bring honor to his father, Deshima Chief Ohira; his patron, Governor Nagai; and his teacher, Interpreter Iishino. He could lose his position for neglecting his duties to receive a forbidden visitor now. But his first concern was her safety. Couldn't her father see that his kind consideration had more value than wealth? And couldn't Chief Ohira see that she would be a more loyal, devoted wife to Kiyoshi than any highborn samurai woman?
Together they climbed the stairs to the small, square room at the top of the tower. Beneath the window lay Kiyoshi's spyglass, his folded cloak and wicker hat, an oil lamp, and the Dutch dictionary he studied during his lonely shift. Suddenly shy in his presence, Junko walked to the window. City and sea glowed with the warm, diffuse radiance of late afternoon. Then a drifting cloud mass obscured the sun, rendering the landscape cold and colorless. Junko sensed a difference, a remoteness about Kiyoshi, who showed none of his usual eagerness to share his thoughts and experiences with her. Junko turned to him; anxious to reestablish their connection.
oKiyoshi, she began hesitantly.
oWhat? His brief smile didn't brighten his somber face. Now he looked away and said, oYou can't stay long, Junko. The lieutenant will be coming by on his rounds soon. We'll both get in trouble if he finds you here.
For the first time, Junko felt insecure in Kiyoshi's love. Had absence weakened his affection for her? oWhat's wrong? she asked, a tremor of fear playing along her spine. She reached for Kiyoshi, then dropped her outstretched hand. She didn't want to lose her dignity by pleading or clinging, so she sought another way to reassure herself that he still cared. She remembered what she'd come to tell him.
oThe shogun's ssakan talked to my father, she said. oHe's interested in the mysterious lights. If we're to catch them before he does, we must hurry. Have you learned anything yet?
At first Kiyoshi didn't speak. Then, still without looking at her, he said reluctantly, oI know what the lights are.
Joy burst like a bright fountain in Junko, washing away her doubts. oYou mean you've seen the ghost? Oh, Kiyoshi, all our problems will be solved! Gleefully she clapped her hands. Then, to her dismay, she saw sadness and pity in the gaze Kiyoshi turned on her. oWhat is it?
He took her in his arms, holding her head against his chest so she couldn't see his face
. oYou must forget about the lights, Junko, he said. oEspecially now that the ssakan-sama knows about them.
Junko pulled away, puzzled. oBut why? The fortune teller said they're the key to our happiness.
During their last rendezvous, they'd gone to consult Nagasaki's best fortune teller. The old crone had told them, oThe strange lights in the harbor hold the key to your happiness. They're the ghosts of Dutch barbarians. Catch one, and it will pay you a fortune in gold to be set free.
oEnough gold to make our families agree to our marriage? Junko had asked eagerly.
oEnough to make all things possible.
Now Junko tried to remind Kiyoshi of the fortune tellers advice. oThe mysterious lights "
oI said, forget them! Kiyoshi shouted, eyes blazing.
He'd never before raised his voice to her in anger. Silently Junko turned away, blinking back tears.
oI'm sorry, Kiyoshi said. The anger had left his voice, and he sounded weary. oI didn't mean to hurt you. But this is what's best, you have to believe me.
The cold draft from the window made Junko shiver. Sniffling, she said, oBut what about the money? Our plans?
Kiyoshi hovered beside her, his hand clasping her shoulder. With a forced laugh, he said, oThat old fortune teller was just repeating town gossip and saying what we wanted to hear. There's no ghosts or treasure. We were fools to believe it.
Disturbed by the forlorn note in Kiyoshi's voice, Junko glanced sideways at him. He was watching her with concern, but a part of him remained separate, preoccupied.
oIf the lights aren't Dutch ghosts, then what are they? Junko asked, loath to relinquish their dream.
Kiyoshi's hand dropped from her shoulder, leaving behind a fleeting warmth. oI can't tell you.
His recalcitrance destroyed Junko's fragile dignity. She whirled to face him. oPlease, tell me what's wrong, she pleaded, clutching his sleeve. oI want to help!
Holding her, Kiyoshi stroked her hair. She felt his hand tremble, his ragged breath on her forehead, his warm strength. But his body stayed rigid. oThere's nothing you can do, he said hopelessly. oI have to handle it alone. After a long pause, he continued, though more to himself than her, oI have to decide whether to do what's right, even if it hurts... someone.
Then he released her. He swallowed hard, then said, oI don't want to say this, Junko. But... I think we should stop seeing each other.
oStop seeing each other? Why? Junko could no longer hide her insecurity. oDon't you love me anymore? she cried. oIs there someone else?
oThat's not what I mean! Kiyoshi seized her hands, crushing them to his chest. oI love you. There will never be anyone else for me. But this is for the best. Please, believe me.
oNo!
A sound paralyzed them both: footsteps on the stairs.
oIt's the lieutenant, Kiyoshi said. He pushed Junko toward the window, where a ladder extended to the ground. oGo! Before he sees you.
oWait, Kiyoshi, Junko pleaded. They couldn't part like this, with matters left unresolved.
The footsteps grew louder, closer. Much as Junko wanted to stay, she couldn't endanger Kiyoshi's career. She let him help her out the window. Her hands and feet found the ladder's rungs. As she descended, she peered upward through the rapidly fading daylight for one last glimpse of Kiyoshi.
After a quick wave and a brief, strained smile, he turned away from the window and vanished from sight.
oHELLO! IS ANYONE up there? Sano called, ascending the stairs inside the watchtower.
Encumbered by his horse, he'd lost track of Junko in the forest. Still, the tower seemed the only place where she might have gone. He called out his name and title so the guard on duty wouldn't mistake him for an attacking enemy. Emerging through the opening in the floor of the room at the top of the tower, he faced a young man who stared at him in speechless dismay.
oIt's Kiyoshi, isn't it? Sano asked, remembering him from the beach yesterday. oChief Ohira's son?
Kiyoshi gulped. oI... was expecting the lieutenant, he said, then bowed hastily. oMy apologies for this rude greeting, ssakan-sama. Please allow me to be of service.
oI'm looking for a young lady named Junko, Sano said, wondering why Kiyoshi was so nervous. oShe's the daughter of the merchant Urabe. Have you seen her?
oNo! Kiyoshi backed toward the window and picked up a spyglass from the floor. He clutched the long metal tube as if eager for something to hold. oI mean, I haven't seen anyone.
oI heard voices up here, Sano said.
oThat was me, talking to myself. I'm learning the Dutch language. Kiyoshi gestured to a book that lay on the floor. oI was just practicing.
From below came a muffled thump. Seeing the boy's worried glance out the window, Sano joined him there. He looked down and saw the ladder. A brief, fluttering movement disturbed the forest beneath.
oDo you know Junko? Sano asked.
oNo! That is, I may have seen her in town. But I'm not actually acquainted with her, no.
He lied bravely, looking straight into Sano's eyes, yet Sano easily pieced together the truth. Kiyoshi and Junko were illicit lovers who'd just stolen some time together here. Feeling the loss of Aoi, Sano pitied the young couple. He said, oI wanted to ask Junko what she knows about the mysterious lights in the harbor. Seeing panic flare in Kiyoshi's eyes, he thought he might learn something after all. oDo you ever work the night watch?
oSometimes. Kiyoshi's long-fingered hands toyed with the spyglass. oNot often. I usually work in the harbor patrol then.
oPerhaps you've seen the lights, Sano suggested. oDo you know what causes them?
Kiyoshi stole a glance out the window. oNo. I mean, I've never seen the lights. Actually, I don't believe there are any. I think a drunk must have imagined he saw something, then told his friends. Now everyone in Nagasaki thinks he's personally seen the lights, and has ideas about what they mean. His laugh was a sickly croak. oYou know how it is.
Sano knew how gossip could spread and turn fantasy into apparent reality, but he couldn't see why Kiyoshi was so eager to deny that the lights existed, or discourage his interest in them. Looking out the window, he saw that the tower was a perfect place from which to monitor the vast panorama of sky, city, and sea.
oMay I look through your spyglass? Sano asked Kiyoshi.
oYes, of course, ssakan-sama.
Obviously glad for a change of subject, Kiyoshi handed over the instrument and explained how to operate it. Sano aimed the long tube out the window, peering through the lens while scanning the landscape. He turned the focusing ring, and blurred scenes leapt into brilliant clarity. In a sky of cool, glowing azure that shaded to gold in the west, clouds drifted, every whorl and puff distinct. Birds soared over trees down the hillside; palanquins and tiny figures filed through the streets. Ships in the harbor appeared so close that Sano instinctively raised his hand to touch them. On open sea floated the Dutch vessel, masts and sails clearly defined. Sano experienced a pang of foreboding even as he admired the technology that had produced the spyglass. The ship's captain and crew must have received his message by now. What would be their response?
Sano trained the spyglass on Deshima. He saw guards patrolling the perimeter and main street. He could almost read the warning signs on the poles around the island.
oYou have a wonderful view, he remarked, handing the spyglass back to Kiyoshi. oTell me "were you on duty the night Director Spaen disappeared?
The young man fumbled and almost dropped the instrument. Holding it across his chest like a shield, he said, oYes. I guess I was.
oDid you notice anything unusual on Deshima then?
Eyes wide and alarmed, Kiyoshi shook his head. His Adam's apple jerked.
oAny suspicious activity; any strange comings or goings? Any boats around the island?
More negative responses. Then Kiyoshi blurted, oPlease forgive me, but the harbor is very dark at night. It's hard to see what's going on from here, especially when there's a storm, like there was then. And I "I might have fallen
asleep. Or gotten too interested in my studies. I'm sorry I can't help you.
Unconvinced, Sano probed harder for information, but met with more disclaimers. Finally he took his leave of Kiyoshi. The youth definitely knew something, his denials notwithstanding. Sano recalled how upset he'd seemed while viewing the corpse on the beach. He was beginning to believe that the lights were somehow linked to the murder, if only because the mention of either provoked similar reactions from Kiyoshi.
If other leads didn't point to the killer, Sano must question Kiyoshi again, and push him harder.
Chapter 13
WHEN SANO RETURNED to town, the western sky was an intense orange. Framed by masses of lavender and pink clouds, the setting sun cast a lustrous red sheen upon the ocean, where ships floated as if in a sea of blood. In the streets, lamps flared above gates and behind windows. Hills and cliffs lost their definition, becoming lofty but insubstantial barriers against the oncoming night. Sano rode up to the Deshima guardhouse just as ten divers swam ashore.
SI3 The Way of the Traitor (1997) Page 13
