The Way Of The Traitor Part 23

A collective gasp rose from Sano's comrades. Diplomatic protocol forbade the practice of bribing barbarians, which could be used to court military allegiance. Sano saw Governor Nagai's faint smile and knew he'd just compounded the treason charges. Yet after Iis.h.i.+no translated the offer, he watched with jubilation as his ploy achieved the desired effect. Oss shook his head and roared a defiant negative, but his men turned on him, abandoning their posts to argue and gesticulate. Elation burst the iron band of worry around Sano's chest. His offer to Captain Oss had been a token bribe; it was the crew he'd meant to reach. Dutch seamen earned a pittance; to them, even one silver coin represented a small fortune. For a moment, mutiny seemed likely. At last Captain Oss nodded, conceding defeat. He shouted at Sano. Iis.h.i.+no translated.

oHe'll hold fire for two more days, two more days.

Murmurs of cautious relief swept the wars.h.i.+p's crew. Sano's spirits lifted.

oBut he refuses to leave the harbor until he's satisfied that the true killer of Jan Spaen has been punished.

No amount of negotiation would induce Captain Oss to capitulate. The j.a.panese wars.h.i.+p turned back while barges still surrounded the Dutch s.h.i.+p, the troops remained on the waterfront and cliffs, and Sano prayed that the tentative truce would hold.

oWe'll pay the bribe, but maintain all forces on alert, Governor Nagai told his men. oWhen the Dutch s.h.i.+p fires, they are to destroy it; we have no choice now. Evidently he trusted neither Captain Oss's promise nor Sano's abilities. Turning to Sano, he said coldly, oThis could be the beginning of the greatest catastrophe our land has ever known. How fortunate for you that you'll not live to suffer the consequences of your foolhardy actions... traitor.

The insult enflamed Sano's anger even as his conscience acknowledged his culpability "after all, hadn't he promoted Dutch interests above j.a.panese by leaving the barbarian s.h.i.+p armed? He should never have indulged the curiosity that had drawn him to the barbarians. How much was he compelled by the demands of honor and right; how much by the thrill of adventure?

oWe'll soon see which of us is the traitor, he retorted, turning his anger at himself on Governor Nagai. oI intend to learn your role in the smuggling, and in Director Spaen's murder. When I tell the tribunal magistrates, they may decide to remain in Nagasaki for another trial " where I shall give evidence against you, Honorable Governor.

Nagai's laugh poured over him like poisonous oil: smooth, rich, corrosive. oYou'll never find any evidence, or anyone willing to testify against me.

Rain and wind cloaked Sano in chill misery as he beheld the approaching sh.o.r.e with its ma.s.sed troops, and the red war banners in the hills. Governor Nagai was smart enough to cover his tracks and powerful enough to command unfailing loyalty. Who among his subordinates would dare accuse him?

Nagai added, oIn case you still harbor any illusions about your detective talents, let me relieve you of them. Two days before Director Spaen's disappearance, the Des.h.i.+ma guards reported a violent argument between Spaen and another barbarian "the doctor, Nicolaes Huygens.

Sano's stomach recoiled from the shock; his mind went numb. Then, as Nagai continued, hurt outrage flooded him.

oThe guards heard angry voices coming from Spaen's office. They entered and saw Huygens lunge at Spaen and start choking him. When Huygens saw they had an audience, he ran out of the room. The guards didn't know what the fight was about, but they claimed that Huygens looked angry enough to kill Spaen. Governor Nagai laughed again. oYes. Well. If you were a competent investigator, surely you would have discovered the animosity between your Dutch friend and Jan Spaen before you conspired with Huygens.

The story had the ring of truth. Yet far from doing him a favor by relating it, Sano knew the governor had done so just to torment him because he couldn't get onto Des.h.i.+ma to confirm it. But Sano's anger at Nagai paled in comparison to the rage he felt toward Dr. Huygens. If Huygens had lied about his relations.h.i.+p with Spaen, what else had he lied about? Had he pretended to help examine Spaen's corpse, all the while falsifying the results of the dissection? Bitterly Sano wondered whether their friends.h.i.+p had been a sham, meant to deflect his suspicion.

oNow if you'll excuse me, Governor Nagai said, oI have a city to defend.

He gathered his aides into the cabin for a strategy session. Iis.h.i.+no had vanished; Sano was alone with his fears and doubts. Had he risked treason and compromised the investigation by unknowingly collaborating with the killer he sought?

Chapter 26.

IN THE DUTCH traders' common room on Des.h.i.+ma, Dr. Nicolaes Huygens sat with a.s.sistant Director deGraeff and their three colleagues. They'd been there for six hours, since the East India Company s.h.i.+p had entered the harbor. Now the remains of their noon meal littered the table; the air was foul with tobacco smoke, burning lamp oil, and the stench of a wastebucket in the corner. The guards stationed outside wouldn't let them leave the room. As Huygens watched deGraeff get up to pace the floor, dread sickened him; sweat drenched his clothing.

oWhy must they keep us locked up like this? the trade secretary whined for what must have been the hundredth time. oWhen are they going to tell us what's going on? What was that big bang a while ago? What will become of us?

DeGraeff snorted. oAs I've said before, it's safe to a.s.sume that our s.h.i.+p entered the harbor without permission and fired on the j.a.panese. We can also a.s.sume that we're prisoners of war.

At times when Huygens couldn't ease his homesick misery with nature studies, he drew comfort from the past. Now, to calm his fear of what was to happen, he pictured his old laboratory at Leyden University, the world's greatest inst.i.tution of learning, with faculty and students from all over Europe. He envisioned walls lined with shelves of books, anatomical models, and preserved specimens; the gla.s.sware, lamps, microscopes, and other scientific apparatus; caged animals; his research notes on the pathology and treatment of diseases. The laboratory was always crowded "Huygens's reputation attracted scientists who came to consult him, and scholars seeking tutorials.

Next Huygens conjured up the great, echoing Anatomical Theater, its tiers packed with doctors, medical students, and curiosity seekers. He recalled lecturing on the physiology of the dissected corpse on the table beside him, answering questions spoken in German, English, French, Swedish, and Hungarian accents.

For last he saved the image of his narrow stone row house beside a tree-shaded ca.n.a.l. On fine summer evenings, he and his wife Judith relaxed on a bench by the door. At their feet played Pieter, aged eight. Tiny-eyed, thick-featured, he acted like a toddler; he couldn't speak clearly, or dress and feed himself. Huygens, with all his scientific expertise, could find neither explanation nor cure for this malady, and he'd worried about Pieter's future. But Pieter's angelic nature had given his parents a joy that compensated for the sorrow....

Today the happy memories seemed faded and remote. Like a medicine taken too often, they'd lost the power to ease pain. Now Huygens's thoughts carried him back farther, to the youthful days he kept sealed off in a corner of his mind.

He was the son of a wealthy Amsterdam merchant who'd paid a fortune to send him to Leyden University. But the seventeen-year-old Nicolaes Huygens had cared nothing for studies. He drank in taverns with a gang of rowdy comrades. They ravished maidens and brawled in the streets. When Huygens bothered to attend cla.s.s, he heckled his teachers. The university threatened expulsion; his father raged. Yet Huygens continued his debauchery, until it culminated in the act that had bound him to Jan Spaen.

This had happened during kermis "the Dutch annual rite of celebration. Beneath colorful tents, vendors sold food and trinkets; acrobats and clowns entertained; gypsies told fortunes. A curiosity show boasted two-headed pigs and limbless men; a theater troupe presented plays. Revelers led a flower-wreathed ox to the marketplace to be slaughtered, roasted, and served at an outdoor banquet. Musicians fiddled; men, women, and children danced. Drinkers filled every tavern.

Through the crowds swaggered Huygens and his friends, drunk and boisterous. In search of a rival student gang, they carried pocketsful of flour and crocks of melted wax to smear on the offenders' faces in proper kermis tradition.

oCome out, Franz Tulp, you coward, Huygens called to the rival gang's leader.

His comrades hooted. oWe need another drink!

They piled into a tavern. And there, among the patrons, sat Franz Tulp, a burly blond lout with a scornful grin, his friends cl.u.s.tered round him.

oGet them! Huygens shouted to his gang.

They a.s.saulted their rivals, hurling flour and wax. The opposition flung the ale from their cups. Then suddenly, somehow, the fun changed to serious combat. Fists flew; sticks flailed. Laughter turned to cries of pain. Huygens, mad with rage, chased Tulp outside, cornering him alone in an alley. Drunken bloodl.u.s.t swept Huygens's mind clear of reason. He reached for the short clay pipe he always carried in his pocket....

Suddenly the Des.h.i.+ma common-room door slammed open. Huygens snapped back to the present. The hawkfaced second watch commander burst into the room, breathless and agitated, directing an order to the guards. To Huygens's dismay, it sounded like, oThe doctor's services are needed. Had Investigator Sano learned about his argument with Spaen and returned to question him about the murder again?

When the guards protested, citing the governor's orders to keep the barbarians locked up together, Nirin ignored them and hustled Huygens from the room. This didn't surprise him; on Des.h.i.+ma, rules were frequently broken, by both staff and residents. He should know, with his learning of the native language, his clandestine work with the Dutch-j.a.panese underground, his illicit trips off the island....

Huygens fought panic while Nirin led him through the drizzly twilit street, which was guarded by twice as many sentries as usual. On the mainland, he saw red banners in the hills. j.a.pan and his country must indeed be at war. Silently Huygens rehea.r.s.ed the statements he must convince Sano to believe: I didn't kill Jan Spaen. I know nothing about any smuggling. I'm not the enemy; I'm innocent!

They reached the surgery. Lamps burned in the windows. Nirin opened the door and shoved Huygens inside, ordering, oSave him, barbarian!

Instead of Investigator Sano, four guards and a scared-looking junior interpreter occupied the room. Huygens experienced a rush of relief. Then he saw, lying on the table, the still, blanket-covered body of a young samurai. His face was white, his eyes closed.

Speaking too fast for Huygens to understand, Nirin whipped the blanket off the boy. Huygens's heart jumped when he saw the deep gash on the naked thigh, still oozing blood despite the tourniquet someone had applied.

oHis son, the interpreter translated. oHurt when Dutch s.h.i.+p sink barge. Please, honorable doctor, you heal?

The Des.h.i.+ma staff often defied the rules and came to Dr. Huygens for medical treatment. Now Huygens forgot Jan Spaen, Sano, and the past as his professional self took command. Hurrying over to the youth, he touched the cold neck and felt only a weak pulse.

oBring hot water, he said.

The interpreter translated; the guards obeyed. Was.h.i.+ng the blood from the injury, Huygens saw that it was deep and serious. A slit artery leaked precious blood into the mangled tissue. Cauterization "the usual method of burning a wound shut with a hot poker "wouldn't work. From his medical kit, Huygens took a thin needle and a long human hair. Using a technique he'd developed at Leyden University, he sewed the cut artery with tiny st.i.tches. He closed the flesh around it with a thicker needle and a strand of horsetail. The j.a.panese murmured in awe. Huygens removed the tourniquet, then cleaned and bandaged the wound.

oYour son has lost a lot of blood, he told Nirin. oTo live, he'll need more. You must bring me a dog.

Suspicious queries greeted the interpreter's translation: The men wanted to know if Huygens meant to violate the Dog Protection Edict, their bizarre law that favored animal life over human.

oI don't have time to explain, Huygens said impatiently. oGet the dog, or the boy will die.

The guards ran out the door. Huygens, Nirin, and the interpreter stood around the patient. Glancing from the son's deathly white face to the father's grim one, Huygens experienced a thrill of fear. If he failed to repair the damage done by his people, would the j.a.panese kill him for revenge? Beneath his fear rose the hope of release from a life worse than death....

Into the aftermath of his confrontation with Tulp had walked Jan Spaen. Yet despite the experience they'd shared, they didn't meet again until after Huygens's life had totally changed.

The Tulp incident had shocked him to his senses. Dreading the arrival of the police, he'd hidden in his rooms, physically ill with fear and guilt, and expecting some sort of demand from Spaen. But when weeks pa.s.sed and nothing happened, he dared to believe he'd escaped punishment. He had another chance.

He'd spent the next twenty years atoning for his sin. Dropping his gang, he quit drinking, studied hard, and graduated first in his cla.s.s. He won a coveted professors.h.i.+p at Leyden University; he also taught in Rome and Paris. At his private clinic, he treated both prominent citizens and charity patients. He married Judith, the rich girl his father had chosen for him, and fell in love with her. As time went on, Huygens gave less and less thought to his past evil, or the man who'd colluded in it.

Then, while attending a medical conference in Amsterdam, Huygens had left the lecture hall one evening with a group of colleagues, and spied, standing in the vestibule, a ghost from the past. Shock burst like a geyser of cold, foul water in Huygens's chest. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Jan Spaen smiled. oThat was a brilliant lecture you just gave, Dr. Nicolaes Huygens, he said.

His features were still handsome, his body strong, his hair still golden, his gaze bold and knowing. Huygens would have recognized him anywhere. Now he was horrified to hear Spaen's use of his name and t.i.tle: Though Spaen hadn't known his ident.i.ty on that long-ago day, he did now. And Huygens realized that Spaen had at last come to collect on his debt.

oAfter all this time, we have much to talk about. Spaen led Huygens outside to a deserted street. oI'm a trader with the East India Company, in town until my s.h.i.+p sails again. I could use a good medical man on my staff. From your lecture, I know you're an expert on traumatic injuries and tropical diseases. How about it?

An awful rus.h.i.+ng sensation came over Huygens, as if an invisible tide were receding from him, taking along everything and everyone he cared about. oBut I can't go to sea, he protested. oMy work; my family...

oThe Gertje sails for the Spice Islands next week, Spaen said. oI'll see you then.

Huygens had no choice but to comply. If what Spaen knew about him became public, he would be ruined anyway. He resigned his professors.h.i.+p and closed his clinic, over the protests of his family and colleagues. Afraid of losing their love and respect, he let them think he'd developed a sudden wanderl.u.s.t. On the cold, bleak day of his departure, he waved from the s.h.i.+p's deck at the rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng figures of his wife and son.

oI'll be back soon, he called. Somehow he would break Spaen's hold on him.

Life at sea was worse than Huygens could have imagined: storms, pirates, rotten food, disease; the constant threat of mutiny; countless accidents that maimed and killed sailors; frequent military skirmishes. Yet Jan Spaen thrived on all forms of danger "including the company of men who served him against their will. Day after day, Huygens endured his jovial conversation at mealtimes, seething with bitter resentment. Two years later, a Dutch traveler brought him the news that Judith had died in an epidemic. Pieter, his cherished, mentally deficient son, was put into Leyden's squalid insane asylum and died soon afterward. These were tragedies Huygens might have prevented, if only he'd been there! His hatred for Spaen grew. By changing his ways and healing the afflicted, hadn't he atoned for his crime? Professional ethics forbade Huygens to take a life; still, he'd dreamed of killing Spaen. The unbearable torment of incarceration together on Des.h.i.+ma had made him desperate enough...

Loud barking outside signaled the guards' return. Into the surgery they hauled a frisky black hound by a rope around its neck. Huygens said, oTie the dog in the yard. Then wait here.

The interpreter translated; the guards obeyed. Dr. Huygens went alone to the yard, carrying a club and a scalpel. The dog pranced and wagged its tail. oMay G.o.d forgive me, Huygens whispered. One hard blow on the skull, and the dog fell dead; several quick cuts to its neck, and Huygens held a long, white vein, still dripping warm blood, in his hands. He hurried back into the surgery and rinsed the vein in a water bucket.

oSit on the table, he told Nirin, oand roll up your sleeve so I can transfer some of your blood to your son.

Looking apprehensive, Nirin did as the interpreter told him. Huygens took from his medical kit two canulas: tiny silver tubes, each with one end blunt and one cut at an angle and sharpened to a point. He prayed that the operation wouldn't fail. Taking donor blood from the recipient's near kin increased the chances of success, but while some patients revived and flourished, others died.

Huygens fingered the youth's cold, flaccid arm and found a vein. When he pierced it with the sharp canula, the boy didn't even flinch. Huygens turned to Nirin.

The commander bravely proffered his arm at Huygens's request. He winced as the canula entered his flesh, and blood trickled out. Huygens slipped one end of the dog's limp vein over the canulas blunt exposed portion. The other he attached to the canula protruding from the boys arm.

oOpen and close your fist, he told Nirin, demonstrating.

The dog's vein reddened as blood flowed through it. From outside drifted the voices of the guards, who had gone out to hide the dog's corpse "another of Des.h.i.+ma's many secrets. A waiting silence pervaded the surgery. Nirin watched his son's face. Huygens felt the pulse in the boy's neck gradually strengthen. Color returned to his skin; his eyelids fluttered open.

oFather, he whispered.

Nirin's hard features softened; he touched his son's cheek. The interpreter cheered. For a moment Huygens felt the elation that saving a life always brought him.

Then dread and misery returned. Even medical miracles didn't compensate for everything lost when he'd joined the East India Company. Spaen's death couldn't restore what was gone forever, or end the hatred that Huygens still felt for him. If Investigator Sano learned the truth about Huygens, he would look no further for the killer of Jan Spaen.

Chapter 27.

THE RAIN-DRENCHED cityscape of Nagasaki blurred past Hirata as he trudged through wet streets, down fetid alleys, and up slippery staircases. Cold and exhausted, he yearned for a hot bath, food, and sleep. But he had no money, and he had to keep moving to evade capture by the troops who still combed the city in search of him, despite the threat of war.

Last night, while hunting for the smugglers, he'd heard noises in the cove and returned just in time to see the police arrest Sano and Kiyos.h.i.+. Then the harbor patrol had stormed after him. More troops had later joined the chase. He'd spent the night running through the forest, climbing hills, crawling over fields, and wading across streams in a desperate attempt to escape. If he didn't remain free, who would save Sano? Toward dawn, exhausted to the brink of collapse, Hirata had s.n.a.t.c.hed an hour's rest in a tree. Yet sleep had brought no peace, because he'd dreamed of his former mentor, the ambush in the teahouse, and his own cowardly flight, which had given him a second chance to prove his worth as a samurai.

Hirata had sneaked back into the city just as the gates opened. Now he was glad that he wore the costume in which he was most comfortable: his old dos.h.i.+n uniform of short kimono, cotton leggings, wicker hat, short sword, and jitte. As long as he kept his face hidden, he could pa.s.s for a Nagasaki police officer. And for a while, his disguise had served his purpose.

First he'd found out what had happened to Sano. All over town, newssellers hawked broadsheets: oThe shogun's ssakan is a traitor. Read all about it!

Hirata s.n.a.t.c.hed a paper. Dismay flooded him as he read the outrageous charges against his master, followed by relief upon learning that Sano would remain alive and free until the tribunal convened in three days. Hirata had time to gather evidence against the real criminals and exonerate Sano.

He'd begun with a visit to Urabe. Outside the merchants foreign goods shop, he'd met Urabe's daughter, Junko, who had begged Hirata to save Kiyos.h.i.+.

oKiyos.h.i.+ is innocent. You must tell your superiors, so they'll let him go! In her agitation, Junko had pounded delicate fists against Hirata's chest, sobbing. oPlease, I don't want him to die!

oIf Kiyos.h.i.+ isn't a smuggler, then what was he doing in the cove? Hirata had asked.

Junko related a tale about how Kiyos.h.i.+ had chased the mysterious lights, trying to catch ghosts who would give them enough gold so they could afford to marry. oMy Kiyos.h.i.+ is a good samurai. He would never break the law. Weeping, she said, oHe's so kind, obedient, and loyal!

Enough to sacrifice his life to protect someone else? Hirata remembered Sano's suspicion that Urabe had aided Jan Spaen in the smuggling, perhaps by selling the goods on the black market. Had Kiyos.h.i.+ lied to save Junko, who would share her father's punishment for the crime?

While pretending to search Urabe's establishment for the fugitive, he'd questioned the merchant regarding his whereabouts on crucial nights. Urabe had claimed that he'd been working late, alone, in his store at the time of the smuggling, Peony's murder, and Jan Spaen's disappearance. However, two events weakened his shaky alibi and strengthened his motive for smuggling.

Three raffish-looking peasants had come to the shop, their tattooed arms marking them as gangsters. When they accepted from Urabe a bulky package in exchange for strings of coins, Hirata had smelled a crooked deal. Then a moneylender had seized Urabe's goods as payment for a bad debt. The merchant was obviously in dire financial straits. And if those gangsters were black marketeers, he had the contacts to dispose of smuggled goods.

Then troops had arrived to search the shop; Hirata had barely escaped. Since then, hours ago, he'd accomplished nothing except mere survival, which didn't help Sano.

Marching footsteps heralded danger again. Hirata fled into the marketplace. Stalls sheltered vendors, merchandise, and customers from the rain. The smell of frying food made his mouth water. Famished, he walked to a stall that sold skewers of grilled seafood and vegetables.

oGive me five of those, he told the vendor, oand a large bowl of rice.

The man set the food on the narrow ledge that served as a table. oThat will be ten coppers, master.

oI am the law! Hirata said, waving his jitte. oI don't have to pay.

The frightened vendor went meekly back to his grill. Hirata wolfed the food while shame tore his spirit and he remembered the words of his father: oAn honorable dos.h.i.+n does not abuse his power, because that would make him no better than the criminals he is supposed to discipline.

Now Hirata convinced himself that his mission justified thievery, and duty to his master overrode all other concerns. Finis.h.i.+ng the food, he went to a tea seller and extorted a drink. With hunger and thirst slaked, his strength and inspiration returned. Avoiding the troops and police, he headed toward the waterfront.

A TALK WITH residents of Chief Ohira's street revealed nothing about Ohira except that he lived frugally and had a reputation as a strict, law-abiding leader. Hirata found no evidence that he profited from smuggling Dutch goods. When asked for information about Interpreter Iis.h.i.+no, the residents had told him, oYou ought to go see Madam Kihara, the wife of the city treasurer. She's the go-between who arranged Interpreter Iis.h.i.+no's marriage, and she always investigates prospective spouses very thoroughly. o They'd directed Hirata to the hillside below the governor's mansion. In the broad avenues, clerks and messengers dodged palanquins; mounted administrators and diplomats pa.s.sed through the gates of the walled estates of Nagasaki's officials; merchants conversed about prices, profits, and taxes on imported and exported goods. Neither a citywide manhunt nor the threat of war could halt foreign trade, or the bureaucratic machine that regulated it.

Hirata navigated the district with an air of purpose, as if on legitimate business. But his extra sense blared a continuous warning siren in his head; glances from pa.s.sersby stabbed him like knives. He told himself that his uniform was adequate disguise, and no one would expect a fugitive to stride boldly into Nagasaki's seat of power. The troops were fewer here. Yet only Hirata's desire to save his master kept him from bolting.

He located the estate with the square crest above the gate and told a guard he wanted to see Madam Kihara. The guard, a.s.suming he was a marriage client, summoned a servant who led him through the garden and into the house's entry porch.

oYour shoes and weapons, master? the servant reminded him politely.

Every instinct in Hirata rebelled against removing his sandals, jitte, and sword as custom required. What if troops should search the house while he was inside? Reluctantly he slipped off his sandals, donned a pair of guest slippers, and placed his weapons on the shelf, knowing that refusal would arouse suspicion. The servant escorted him into the house. From down the corridor came a deep, cracked voice, saying: oI need a complete dossier on the Ono boy's family. Canva.s.s the shops and moneylenders and find out what debts they owe. A phlegmy cough interrupted the orders. oCheck the pleasure quarter and see if the boy has a mistress there. Visit his superior and ask if he's likely to rise any higher. Then find out who his friends are, and if they've ever been in trouble with the law.