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Authors: Laura Joh Rowland
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The Way of the Traitor: A Samurai Mystery (27 page)
BOOK: The Way of the Traitor: A Samurai Mystery
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The other Dutchmen spoke their pieces. The gravediggers placed ropes under the coffin and lowered it into the hole. Each barbarian cast a handful of dirt onto the coffin. Then the diggers shoveled earth into the grave. Sano's skin crawled at the thought of the corpse slowly rotting underground. How much cleaner and more final was the Buddhist custom of cremation. But Sano had no time to ponder the differences between Japanese and Dutch funerary rites, or Dr. Huygens's possible guilt. Interpreter Iishino was edging toward the road leading down the hill.
Sano cut through the circle of troops, pushed past spectators, and hurried after Iishino. The interpreter ran down the road, shoulders hunched, sandals flapping. Sano caught up with him, seized his arm, and swung him around.
oNot so fast, Iishino, he said.
Grinning, Iishino shrugged. He let out a high, nervous titter, and said, oExcuse me, ssakan-sama, excuse me. When none of these ploys broke Sano's hold on him, he whimpered.
oWhy did you tell those lies about me? Contempt roughened Sano's tone. He flung Iishino up against a tree. oI never asked the Dutch captain for weapons, or conspired with Dr. Huygens to overthrow the government, and you know it. When Iishino cringed and trembled, Sano shouted, oSpeak up! I want an answer, now. Why did you lie?
Surprisingly, the interpreter's toothy grin reappeared. oI didn't lie, ssakan-sama, I didn't lie, he said. oI only told my version of the truth, which is different from yours. The tribunal will decide which version to believe.
Of all the incredible nerve! oThere's no one here but you and me, so you might as well drop the act, Sano said, locking a hand over Iishino's throat and pinning him to the tree. oYou're going to explain why you lied. Then we're going to Governor Nagai so you can retract your statement.
Iishino kicked, thrashed, and managed to choke out, oMy statement has already been entered into the official record. I couldn't retract it even if I wanted to. And if you kill me, it will only convince the tribunal of your guilt.
Much as Sano hated to admit it, the interpreter was probably right on the first point as well as the second: If Governor Nagai and Chamberlain Yanagisawa intended to destroy him, they wouldn't let Iishino change his statement. Reluctantly Sano released the interpreter, who collapsed to the ground with a moan of relief.
oWhere were you the night Jan Spaen disappeared? Sano demanded.
Clambering to his feet, Iishino made an exaggerated show of wiping mud from his garments, avoiding Sano's gaze. oI went to the governor's mansion in the afternoon to translate some Dutch documents. By the time I finished, it was so late that the city gates were closed, and I couldn't go home. I slept in the office, and didn't know the barbarian was missing until I reported for work on Deshima.
Sano thought that Iishino must be confident that the governor's staff would confirm his story, either because he really had been there, or because they had orders to protect him. oWhat about the night before last? Sano asked, curious to see what alibi Iishino would present for Peony's murder and the attack on himself.
oI was at home with my wife. Iishino beamed. oShe is Governor Nagai's niece.
And the unimpeachable source of another unbreakable alibi. oAnd last night? Were you on Deshima?
Iishino sidled up the road. oI should go back to the funeral, he said. oMy services might be needed. Of course I was not on Deshima last night. The junior interpreters cover the late shift. I was at home until the governor's messenger summoned me to your hearing.
oI'm not through with you yet, Sano said, blocking Iishino's path. oWhat was your relationship with Jan Spaen?
Iishino tried to step around Sano, failed, then grimaced in resignation. oI know you're thinking maybe I killed the barbarian, ssakan-sama. But I didn't. I liked Spaen the way I do all the Dutch "they're my friends. At Sano's surprised look, he amended hastily, oOh, not in any improper way; I never favor barbarians. But I enjoy being with them. You see, they have no choice but to accept my company. They have to listen to me and talk to me. They can't run away when they see me coming, or brush me off the way other people do.
He sighed, and his face took on a mournful cast. oAll my life I've had difficulty making friends. When I was young, the other boys at the temple school shunned me and played cruel jokes on me. One night they carried my bed outside while I was sleeping and put it beside the river. When I got up, I fell in the water and almost drowned. Learning the Dutch language was my salvation, my salvation. If not for the barbarians, I would be a very lonely man. And Jan Spaen was nice to me. He told me about his adventures. He followed my advice when I taught him how to behave in this country. I would never have done anything to hurt him.
Hearing the pained sincerity in Iishino's voice, Sano felt an unexpected rush of pity for the interpreter. He hadn't realized how much Iishino minded being disliked; some obnoxious men were unaware of the antipathy they inspired, or indifferent to it. How sad that a Japanese should turn to foreigners for friendship because his countrymen shunned him.
oYou might be more popular if you stopped being so bossy and critical, Sano suggested.
The interpreter's wide eyes blinked in surprise. oBut it's my duty to correct people when they're doing something wrong, he said with self-righteous pomp. His head bobbed emphatically. oIf they don't appreciate my advice, it's because they're too sensitive or proud to benefit from my superior wisdom.
oMaybe you shouldn't always assume that your wisdom is superior, Sano said, though he saw the futility of trying to change Iishino's attitude. The interpreter seemed destined to remain friendless. oYou can't be right all the time.
oI beg to differ "at least in your case, ssakan-sama. Iishino grinned smugly. oBecause you should have heeded my warning against getting too close to the barbarians. Maybe then you wouldn't be in all this trouble.
He dodged around Sano and scurried up the hill toward the burial ground. As Sano watched him go, he glimpsed other possible motives for Iishino's actions. Did the interpreter so greatly resent the universal rejection of his advice and friendship that he'd taken revenge on Sano, a convenient target? Were both Iishino and Ohira pawns of Governor Nagai and Chamberlain Yanagisawa?
Or was Iishino a criminal, trying to hide his guilt by destroying a man who might expose and destroy him?
Sano retrieved his horse and started down the road toward town. It was afternoon now; Kiyoshi would have had plenty of time to reflect on his dire situation. Perhaps he was ready to tell the truth about why he'd been in the cove last night, and supply answers that the suspects had not.
Chapter 24
YOU CAN SEE Kiyoshi if you want, but don't expect him to talk, said the warden, leading Sano through Nagasaki Jail. oHe hasn't spoken a word to anyone since he arrived.
In the prison's dim corridors, ironclad doors studded dingy plaster walls. From behind these issued the wails of inmates, most of whom were convicted criminals awaiting execution. The air reeked of excrement, rotten food, and sickness. Patrolling jailers banged on the doors, ordering the inmates to shut up and behave. Sano tried not to picture himself and Hirata as prisoners. He would clear their names, and Kiyoshi was going to help him.
oHe's in here, the warden said, unbarring a door. oJust call when you're done, and I'll come let you out.
Sano entered the cell; the warden secured the door behind him. Except for a wastebucket in one corner, the room was unfurnished. Rain streaked past the single window at ceiling level and dashed the tile roof. A tray of rice and pickles sat beside Kiyoshi, who knelt in the middle of the dirty floor. Stripped of his swords and shoes, he wore a ragged muslin kimono and didn't react when Sano spoke his name.
Sano squatted across from the youth, shivering in his wet garments and the unpleasant chill exuded by the prison walls.
oKiyoshi? Sano repeated. oCan you hear me?
The boys face seemed made of ivory, the handsome features sharp, pale, and devoid of animation. A split lip and bruised cheekbone added touches of livid color. His eyes focused inward; his hands lay motionless, palms down, upon his thighs. Yet Sano perceived an aura of agony radiating from Kiyoshi. All thought of using verbal or physical aggression to force the truth out of him fled Sano in a rush of sympathy. The boy's lies had incriminated Sano, but also condemned himself to a disgraceful death.
oHow are you feeling, Kiyoshi? Sano asked quietly. oAre the jailers treating you well?
No answer. The youth's expression registered no sign that he even knew anyone was in the room with him. Sano, seeking a way to reach him, turned to the tray of food.
oIt doesn't look as if you've eaten, he said. oWould you like to now?
Then, seeing the condition of the food, he grimaced in disgust. The rice was burnt, the radish pickles moldy. A stale, sour smell arose from the mess.
oWarden! Sano shouted. The man opened the door so fast that Sano guessed he'd been eavesdropping outside. oTake this garbage away and bring something better.
The warden frowned. oHe's supposed to be treated the same as the other prisoners "he eats what they eat; no special privileges of any kind. Governor Nagai's orders.
How quickly and completely the governor had withdrawn favor from his former protAcgAc, Sano thought. Did he really believe in Kiyoshi's guilt, or want to distance himself from an accomplice turned scapegoat?
oBring hot soup, fresh rice, and sake, Sano told the warden. oI'll take the responsibility.
oSuit yourself. Shrugging, the warden took the tray and left.
When the new provisions came, Sano set them in front of Kiyoshi, but the youth made no move to eat. Sano held a spoonful of soup to Kiyoshi's mouth.
oDrink this, he coaxed. oYou'll feel better.
The soup trickled down Kiyoshi's immobile lips and onto his kimono, as did the liquor Sano offered next. Sano wiped the young man's face with his own sleeve, then spoke in a calm, quiet tone, feeling his way.
oFrom what I can tell, you're a dutiful, hardworking samurai. And you must be intelligent to learn Dutch.
Sano paused, waiting for a response, but Kiyoshi didn't even blink. Sano continued, oI don't believe you would ever want to break the law, or intentionally hurt anyone. Isn't that why you're suffering now? Because even though you didn't commit the crime you confessed to, you've hurt so many people. Not just me, but the people to whom you owe your highest loyalty: your father, Governor Nagai, Interpreter Iishino... and Junko.
Though the young samurai's face retained its icy pallor and stillness, Sano detected a faint reaction to Junko's name: The atmosphere around Kiyoshi vibrated like a taut samisen string when touched too lightly to make a sound.
oJunko must love you very much, to disobey her father by meeting you secretly, Sano said. oShe would be heartbroken if you should die "especially for something you didn't do.
Seeing Kiyoshi's throat contract, Sano continued, oI'm sure Junko must be desperate to know how you could sacrifice your honor and betray her love this way. Sano hated exploiting the boy's weakness, but his own life and honor, as well as Hirata's, might depend on what he learned from Kiyoshi. oIf you tell me what happened last night, I'll deliver a message to Junko so she'll know you're innocent, and that you still love her.
The blank surface of Kiyoshi's gaze rippled like water during an earth tremor, but he kept his silence. Had he lost the ability to speak?
oI'll tell you what I think happened, Sano said, hiding his hope and worry. oYou needn't talk; just nod if you agree, and shake your head if you don't. All right?
No reaction. Sano persisted: oYou somehow discovered the smuggling when you went to Deshima to practice conversing with the Dutch. Or did you see it from the watchtower? Maybe you followed the mysterious lights, the way I did "ghost stories wouldn't frighten a brave samurai like you, would they?
oYou tracked the smugglers to the cove. Last night, did you try to catch them and become a hero? Or was there another reason you were in the cove? Kiyoshi. Answer me!
Sano expelled his breath in a gust of frustration. The young samurai hadn't responded to any of his statements or questions. Yet Sano felt sure he had at least the framework of the truth. With increasing desperation, he tried to build it into a structure that would support his defense before the tribunal.
oWhom did you expect to find in the cove, Kiyoshi? The Deshima guards? Iishino "or your father? Of the possible culprits, Chief Ohira was not only the one with the easiest chance to smuggle, but the closest to Kiyoshi. This factor supported Sano's belief in Ohira's guilt. oDid you incriminate yourself and me to protect him? Do you know who killed Jan Spaen?
This was useless. No matter how logical an explanation Sano offered the tribunal, it wouldn't save him or Hirata without confirmation from Kiyoshi... who apparently intended to take his knowledge to the grave.
Then Kiyoshi's lips moved in a hoarse whisper so quiet that Sano had to move closer to hear him over the rain. oThe death march begins. At first, everything is just the way it really happened. It's dawn, and the soldiers are leading the condemned man, Yoshid Ganzaemon, into the hills. He's been convicted of treason for insulting the shogun. I'm in the procession with the other witnesses. Executions frighten me... but I don't have anything to worry about. I've done nothing wrong.
His eyes took on a haunted look, as if beholding the grim vision he described; his whisper quavered. oBut when we reach the execution ground, suddenly I'm not in the audience anymore... I'm the prisoner. Sweat dripped off his forehead; the stink of terror wafted from him. oI can feel the ropes cutting into my wrists... Slowly he moved his hands behind his back and held them there as if bound. oI feel the heavy shackles around my legs. I see everyone watching me. My father is there. So are Governor Nagai and my comrades from the harbor patrol.... They despise me, because I'm a traitor.
Sano cut through the circle of troops, pushed past spectators, and hurried after Iishino. The interpreter ran down the road, shoulders hunched, sandals flapping. Sano caught up with him, seized his arm, and swung him around.
oNot so fast, Iishino, he said.
Grinning, Iishino shrugged. He let out a high, nervous titter, and said, oExcuse me, ssakan-sama, excuse me. When none of these ploys broke Sano's hold on him, he whimpered.
oWhy did you tell those lies about me? Contempt roughened Sano's tone. He flung Iishino up against a tree. oI never asked the Dutch captain for weapons, or conspired with Dr. Huygens to overthrow the government, and you know it. When Iishino cringed and trembled, Sano shouted, oSpeak up! I want an answer, now. Why did you lie?
Surprisingly, the interpreter's toothy grin reappeared. oI didn't lie, ssakan-sama, I didn't lie, he said. oI only told my version of the truth, which is different from yours. The tribunal will decide which version to believe.
Of all the incredible nerve! oThere's no one here but you and me, so you might as well drop the act, Sano said, locking a hand over Iishino's throat and pinning him to the tree. oYou're going to explain why you lied. Then we're going to Governor Nagai so you can retract your statement.
Iishino kicked, thrashed, and managed to choke out, oMy statement has already been entered into the official record. I couldn't retract it even if I wanted to. And if you kill me, it will only convince the tribunal of your guilt.
Much as Sano hated to admit it, the interpreter was probably right on the first point as well as the second: If Governor Nagai and Chamberlain Yanagisawa intended to destroy him, they wouldn't let Iishino change his statement. Reluctantly Sano released the interpreter, who collapsed to the ground with a moan of relief.
oWhere were you the night Jan Spaen disappeared? Sano demanded.
Clambering to his feet, Iishino made an exaggerated show of wiping mud from his garments, avoiding Sano's gaze. oI went to the governor's mansion in the afternoon to translate some Dutch documents. By the time I finished, it was so late that the city gates were closed, and I couldn't go home. I slept in the office, and didn't know the barbarian was missing until I reported for work on Deshima.
Sano thought that Iishino must be confident that the governor's staff would confirm his story, either because he really had been there, or because they had orders to protect him. oWhat about the night before last? Sano asked, curious to see what alibi Iishino would present for Peony's murder and the attack on himself.
oI was at home with my wife. Iishino beamed. oShe is Governor Nagai's niece.
And the unimpeachable source of another unbreakable alibi. oAnd last night? Were you on Deshima?
Iishino sidled up the road. oI should go back to the funeral, he said. oMy services might be needed. Of course I was not on Deshima last night. The junior interpreters cover the late shift. I was at home until the governor's messenger summoned me to your hearing.
oI'm not through with you yet, Sano said, blocking Iishino's path. oWhat was your relationship with Jan Spaen?
Iishino tried to step around Sano, failed, then grimaced in resignation. oI know you're thinking maybe I killed the barbarian, ssakan-sama. But I didn't. I liked Spaen the way I do all the Dutch "they're my friends. At Sano's surprised look, he amended hastily, oOh, not in any improper way; I never favor barbarians. But I enjoy being with them. You see, they have no choice but to accept my company. They have to listen to me and talk to me. They can't run away when they see me coming, or brush me off the way other people do.
He sighed, and his face took on a mournful cast. oAll my life I've had difficulty making friends. When I was young, the other boys at the temple school shunned me and played cruel jokes on me. One night they carried my bed outside while I was sleeping and put it beside the river. When I got up, I fell in the water and almost drowned. Learning the Dutch language was my salvation, my salvation. If not for the barbarians, I would be a very lonely man. And Jan Spaen was nice to me. He told me about his adventures. He followed my advice when I taught him how to behave in this country. I would never have done anything to hurt him.
Hearing the pained sincerity in Iishino's voice, Sano felt an unexpected rush of pity for the interpreter. He hadn't realized how much Iishino minded being disliked; some obnoxious men were unaware of the antipathy they inspired, or indifferent to it. How sad that a Japanese should turn to foreigners for friendship because his countrymen shunned him.
oYou might be more popular if you stopped being so bossy and critical, Sano suggested.
The interpreter's wide eyes blinked in surprise. oBut it's my duty to correct people when they're doing something wrong, he said with self-righteous pomp. His head bobbed emphatically. oIf they don't appreciate my advice, it's because they're too sensitive or proud to benefit from my superior wisdom.
oMaybe you shouldn't always assume that your wisdom is superior, Sano said, though he saw the futility of trying to change Iishino's attitude. The interpreter seemed destined to remain friendless. oYou can't be right all the time.
oI beg to differ "at least in your case, ssakan-sama. Iishino grinned smugly. oBecause you should have heeded my warning against getting too close to the barbarians. Maybe then you wouldn't be in all this trouble.
He dodged around Sano and scurried up the hill toward the burial ground. As Sano watched him go, he glimpsed other possible motives for Iishino's actions. Did the interpreter so greatly resent the universal rejection of his advice and friendship that he'd taken revenge on Sano, a convenient target? Were both Iishino and Ohira pawns of Governor Nagai and Chamberlain Yanagisawa?
Or was Iishino a criminal, trying to hide his guilt by destroying a man who might expose and destroy him?
Sano retrieved his horse and started down the road toward town. It was afternoon now; Kiyoshi would have had plenty of time to reflect on his dire situation. Perhaps he was ready to tell the truth about why he'd been in the cove last night, and supply answers that the suspects had not.
Chapter 24
YOU CAN SEE Kiyoshi if you want, but don't expect him to talk, said the warden, leading Sano through Nagasaki Jail. oHe hasn't spoken a word to anyone since he arrived.
In the prison's dim corridors, ironclad doors studded dingy plaster walls. From behind these issued the wails of inmates, most of whom were convicted criminals awaiting execution. The air reeked of excrement, rotten food, and sickness. Patrolling jailers banged on the doors, ordering the inmates to shut up and behave. Sano tried not to picture himself and Hirata as prisoners. He would clear their names, and Kiyoshi was going to help him.
oHe's in here, the warden said, unbarring a door. oJust call when you're done, and I'll come let you out.
Sano entered the cell; the warden secured the door behind him. Except for a wastebucket in one corner, the room was unfurnished. Rain streaked past the single window at ceiling level and dashed the tile roof. A tray of rice and pickles sat beside Kiyoshi, who knelt in the middle of the dirty floor. Stripped of his swords and shoes, he wore a ragged muslin kimono and didn't react when Sano spoke his name.
Sano squatted across from the youth, shivering in his wet garments and the unpleasant chill exuded by the prison walls.
oKiyoshi? Sano repeated. oCan you hear me?
The boys face seemed made of ivory, the handsome features sharp, pale, and devoid of animation. A split lip and bruised cheekbone added touches of livid color. His eyes focused inward; his hands lay motionless, palms down, upon his thighs. Yet Sano perceived an aura of agony radiating from Kiyoshi. All thought of using verbal or physical aggression to force the truth out of him fled Sano in a rush of sympathy. The boy's lies had incriminated Sano, but also condemned himself to a disgraceful death.
oHow are you feeling, Kiyoshi? Sano asked quietly. oAre the jailers treating you well?
No answer. The youth's expression registered no sign that he even knew anyone was in the room with him. Sano, seeking a way to reach him, turned to the tray of food.
oIt doesn't look as if you've eaten, he said. oWould you like to now?
Then, seeing the condition of the food, he grimaced in disgust. The rice was burnt, the radish pickles moldy. A stale, sour smell arose from the mess.
oWarden! Sano shouted. The man opened the door so fast that Sano guessed he'd been eavesdropping outside. oTake this garbage away and bring something better.
The warden frowned. oHe's supposed to be treated the same as the other prisoners "he eats what they eat; no special privileges of any kind. Governor Nagai's orders.
How quickly and completely the governor had withdrawn favor from his former protAcgAc, Sano thought. Did he really believe in Kiyoshi's guilt, or want to distance himself from an accomplice turned scapegoat?
oBring hot soup, fresh rice, and sake, Sano told the warden. oI'll take the responsibility.
oSuit yourself. Shrugging, the warden took the tray and left.
When the new provisions came, Sano set them in front of Kiyoshi, but the youth made no move to eat. Sano held a spoonful of soup to Kiyoshi's mouth.
oDrink this, he coaxed. oYou'll feel better.
The soup trickled down Kiyoshi's immobile lips and onto his kimono, as did the liquor Sano offered next. Sano wiped the young man's face with his own sleeve, then spoke in a calm, quiet tone, feeling his way.
oFrom what I can tell, you're a dutiful, hardworking samurai. And you must be intelligent to learn Dutch.
Sano paused, waiting for a response, but Kiyoshi didn't even blink. Sano continued, oI don't believe you would ever want to break the law, or intentionally hurt anyone. Isn't that why you're suffering now? Because even though you didn't commit the crime you confessed to, you've hurt so many people. Not just me, but the people to whom you owe your highest loyalty: your father, Governor Nagai, Interpreter Iishino... and Junko.
Though the young samurai's face retained its icy pallor and stillness, Sano detected a faint reaction to Junko's name: The atmosphere around Kiyoshi vibrated like a taut samisen string when touched too lightly to make a sound.
oJunko must love you very much, to disobey her father by meeting you secretly, Sano said. oShe would be heartbroken if you should die "especially for something you didn't do.
Seeing Kiyoshi's throat contract, Sano continued, oI'm sure Junko must be desperate to know how you could sacrifice your honor and betray her love this way. Sano hated exploiting the boy's weakness, but his own life and honor, as well as Hirata's, might depend on what he learned from Kiyoshi. oIf you tell me what happened last night, I'll deliver a message to Junko so she'll know you're innocent, and that you still love her.
The blank surface of Kiyoshi's gaze rippled like water during an earth tremor, but he kept his silence. Had he lost the ability to speak?
oI'll tell you what I think happened, Sano said, hiding his hope and worry. oYou needn't talk; just nod if you agree, and shake your head if you don't. All right?
No reaction. Sano persisted: oYou somehow discovered the smuggling when you went to Deshima to practice conversing with the Dutch. Or did you see it from the watchtower? Maybe you followed the mysterious lights, the way I did "ghost stories wouldn't frighten a brave samurai like you, would they?
oYou tracked the smugglers to the cove. Last night, did you try to catch them and become a hero? Or was there another reason you were in the cove? Kiyoshi. Answer me!
Sano expelled his breath in a gust of frustration. The young samurai hadn't responded to any of his statements or questions. Yet Sano felt sure he had at least the framework of the truth. With increasing desperation, he tried to build it into a structure that would support his defense before the tribunal.
oWhom did you expect to find in the cove, Kiyoshi? The Deshima guards? Iishino "or your father? Of the possible culprits, Chief Ohira was not only the one with the easiest chance to smuggle, but the closest to Kiyoshi. This factor supported Sano's belief in Ohira's guilt. oDid you incriminate yourself and me to protect him? Do you know who killed Jan Spaen?
This was useless. No matter how logical an explanation Sano offered the tribunal, it wouldn't save him or Hirata without confirmation from Kiyoshi... who apparently intended to take his knowledge to the grave.
Then Kiyoshi's lips moved in a hoarse whisper so quiet that Sano had to move closer to hear him over the rain. oThe death march begins. At first, everything is just the way it really happened. It's dawn, and the soldiers are leading the condemned man, Yoshid Ganzaemon, into the hills. He's been convicted of treason for insulting the shogun. I'm in the procession with the other witnesses. Executions frighten me... but I don't have anything to worry about. I've done nothing wrong.
His eyes took on a haunted look, as if beholding the grim vision he described; his whisper quavered. oBut when we reach the execution ground, suddenly I'm not in the audience anymore... I'm the prisoner. Sweat dripped off his forehead; the stink of terror wafted from him. oI can feel the ropes cutting into my wrists... Slowly he moved his hands behind his back and held them there as if bound. oI feel the heavy shackles around my legs. I see everyone watching me. My father is there. So are Governor Nagai and my comrades from the harbor patrol.... They despise me, because I'm a traitor.
BOOK: The Way of the Traitor: A Samurai Mystery
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