just to show you that I bear no hard feelings toward you, I shall give you a bit of advice. If you’re looking for a likely culprit, you might consider a hokan named Fujio.”
A hokan was a male entertainer who sang and played music for guests in Yoshiwara and for wealthy nobles and merchants around Edo. “Why should I?” Sano said.
“Fujio was a client of Lady Wisteria when she first became a courtesan. His love for her is the subject of his most popular songs. But when Wisteria rose to the rank of taju , she rejected him in favor of samurai clients. This made Fujio very angry at her, and jealous of her new lovers, who included Lord Mitsuyoshi.”
The treasury minister spoke in a tone heavy with significance, as if to make sure Sano understood that Fujio had reason for killing Mitsuyoshi and Wisteria. However, it was obvious to Sano that Nitta sought to divert suspicion from himself by implicating the hokan .
“Fujio performed at the party in the Owariya,” Nitta continued. “He could have slipped into the bedchamber, stabbed Lord Mitsuyoshi, and abducted Lady Wisteria.”
Yet perhaps Nitta had killed Lord Mitsuyoshi himself, and now wished to destroy another man who’d enjoyed the favors of his courtesan.
“Thank you for the information,” Sano said, keeping his expression neutral. Though he didn’t trust Nitta, he desperately needed leads. He intended to pay Fujio a visit, whatever Nitta’s motive for casting suspicion on the hokan .
As Sano rode down the street with his men, a clatter of hoofbeats caused him to look backward. He saw Police Commissioner Hoshina and a squadron of troops arriving outside Treasury Minister Nitta’s gate.
----
8
The Saru-waka-cho theater district had been selected as the location of the miai .
Hirata and his father, wearing their best silk robes and finest swords, walked up the street with Segoshi, a palace guard captain whom Sano had engaged as a substitute go-between. Behind them followed two family retainers, Hirata’s mother, and her maid.
The district sparkled with life in the bright, clear weather. Theater buildings sported colorful banners that announced the current plays. Bursts of song and applause emanated from windows. In towers on the roofs, men beat drums to attract customers. People jammed the teahouses or queued at ticket booths, lugging quilts to keep them warm during the performances that lasted all day. Fragrant smoke wafted from outdoor braziers where vendors roasted chestnuts. But Hirata and his party walked in somber quiet. As they neared their destination, anxiety clenched his stomach tighter and tighter.
They stepped aside to let a wedding procession pass. A palanquin carried the bride in her white kimono. Friends, relatives, and lantern-bearers accompanied the palanquin.
“What an auspicious sign for the day of a miai ,” said Captain Segoshi. A good-natured older samurai, he obviously wanted to lighten the mood of his companions.
“As far as I’m concerned, the sight of a wedding procession is a bad-luck omen,” Hirata’s father said in a grumpy tone. He walked with a severe limp, caused by an accident that had necessitated his retirement from the police force. “I attend this miai against my wishes, and I’d rather turn around and go home before we take a step we’ll regret.”
“But everything has been arranged,” Hirata said, alarmed by his father’s attitude. “Backing out now would be a terrible breach of courtesy. And you won’t regret beginning my marriage negotiations. Midori- san is a good, honorable match for me, for our family.”
This was but another argument in the dispute which had begun three months ago, when Hirata had told his parents that he wished to marry Midori and asked their permission. They opposed the idea, and had only consented to the miai because the formal request had come from Sano, whom they couldn’t refuse.
Disapproval darkened the broad, lined face of Hirata’s sire. “Honorable matches
A hokan was a male entertainer who sang and played music for guests in Yoshiwara and for wealthy nobles and merchants around Edo. “Why should I?” Sano said.
“Fujio was a client of Lady Wisteria when she first became a courtesan. His love for her is the subject of his most popular songs. But when Wisteria rose to the rank of taju , she rejected him in favor of samurai clients. This made Fujio very angry at her, and jealous of her new lovers, who included Lord Mitsuyoshi.”
The treasury minister spoke in a tone heavy with significance, as if to make sure Sano understood that Fujio had reason for killing Mitsuyoshi and Wisteria. However, it was obvious to Sano that Nitta sought to divert suspicion from himself by implicating the hokan .
“Fujio performed at the party in the Owariya,” Nitta continued. “He could have slipped into the bedchamber, stabbed Lord Mitsuyoshi, and abducted Lady Wisteria.”
Yet perhaps Nitta had killed Lord Mitsuyoshi himself, and now wished to destroy another man who’d enjoyed the favors of his courtesan.
“Thank you for the information,” Sano said, keeping his expression neutral. Though he didn’t trust Nitta, he desperately needed leads. He intended to pay Fujio a visit, whatever Nitta’s motive for casting suspicion on the hokan .
As Sano rode down the street with his men, a clatter of hoofbeats caused him to look backward. He saw Police Commissioner Hoshina and a squadron of troops arriving outside Treasury Minister Nitta’s gate.
----
8
The Saru-waka-cho theater district had been selected as the location of the miai .
Hirata and his father, wearing their best silk robes and finest swords, walked up the street with Segoshi, a palace guard captain whom Sano had engaged as a substitute go-between. Behind them followed two family retainers, Hirata’s mother, and her maid.
The district sparkled with life in the bright, clear weather. Theater buildings sported colorful banners that announced the current plays. Bursts of song and applause emanated from windows. In towers on the roofs, men beat drums to attract customers. People jammed the teahouses or queued at ticket booths, lugging quilts to keep them warm during the performances that lasted all day. Fragrant smoke wafted from outdoor braziers where vendors roasted chestnuts. But Hirata and his party walked in somber quiet. As they neared their destination, anxiety clenched his stomach tighter and tighter.
They stepped aside to let a wedding procession pass. A palanquin carried the bride in her white kimono. Friends, relatives, and lantern-bearers accompanied the palanquin.
“What an auspicious sign for the day of a miai ,” said Captain Segoshi. A good-natured older samurai, he obviously wanted to lighten the mood of his companions.
“As far as I’m concerned, the sight of a wedding procession is a bad-luck omen,” Hirata’s father said in a grumpy tone. He walked with a severe limp, caused by an accident that had necessitated his retirement from the police force. “I attend this miai against my wishes, and I’d rather turn around and go home before we take a step we’ll regret.”
“But everything has been arranged,” Hirata said, alarmed by his father’s attitude. “Backing out now would be a terrible breach of courtesy. And you won’t regret beginning my marriage negotiations. Midori- san is a good, honorable match for me, for our family.”
This was but another argument in the dispute which had begun three months ago, when Hirata had told his parents that he wished to marry Midori and asked their permission. They opposed the idea, and had only consented to the miai because the formal request had come from Sano, whom they couldn’t refuse.
Disapproval darkened the broad, lined face of Hirata’s sire. “Honorable matches
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