Shinju Read Free

contempt. The reputation of
yoriki
for vanity was well known. He himself cared little for fashion, but his superior, Magistrate Ogyu, had stressed the importance of proper dress and appearance.
    â€œYour apologies are accepted,” Sano said, deciding to address the matter at hand instead of making an issue over his subordinate’s manners. “Now answer my question: what has this man done for which you must punish him?”
    Now Sano could see bewilderment on the
doshin
’s face.
Yoriki
seldom ventured into the streets, preferring to keep their distance from the rough-and-tumble of everyday police work. They appeared only for very serious incidents, and then as field commanders dressed in full armor with helmet and lance. Sano supposed he was the first to ever investigate a common fire.
    â€œHe did this,” the
doshin
answered, gesturing at the ruins. “Set the fire. Killed fifteen people.” He spat at the man, who still lay facedown in the mud, shoulders trembling with muffled sobs.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    The
doshin
’s prominent jaw thrust out even further, in anger and resentment. “The townspeople saw a man fleeing the street just after the fire started,
Yoriki
Sano-
san
. And he confessed.”
    Sano walked past the assistants and over to the fallen man. “It’s all right,” he said gently. “Get up now.”
    Clumsily the man hunched at the waist, then rose to his knees. Sitting back on his heels, he wiped the mud from his face. Then, to Sano’s surprise, his mouth opened in a wide, toothless smile.
    â€œYes, master.” His head bobbed, and his eyes twinkled. Despite the wrinkles that creased his cheeks and forehead, he looked as innocent as a child.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Sano asked.
    â€œYes, master.”
    Sano repeated the question. Getting the same response, he tried another. “Where do you live?”
    â€œYes, master.”
    â€œDid you start the fire?” Sano asked, beginning to understand.
    â€œYes, master, yes master!” Then, seeing Sano’s frown, the man lost his smile. He got to his feet, but fell back as the
doshin
’s assistants surrounded him again. “No hurt, master!” he pleaded.
    â€œNo one will harm you.” Furious, Sano turned to the
doshin
. “This man is a simpleton. He doesn’t understand you, or what he’s saying. You cannot accept his confession.”
    The
doshin
’s face flushed, and he squared his shoulders. The
jitte
shook in his clenched fist. “I asked him if he started the fire. He said yes. How was I to know he was an idiot?”
    A voice from the swelling crowd of spectators cried, “If you’d taken the time to talk to him, you would have found out!” Someone else shouted, “He’s just a harmless old beggar!” Mutters of agreement followed.
    â€œShut up!” The
doshin
turned on the crowd, and the mutters faded. Then he faced Sano. “Arson is a serious crime,” he said with exaggerated patience and not a little self-righteousness. “Someone must pay.”
    For a moment, Sano was too appalled to speak. This law officer—and many others, if the rumors he’d heard were correct—cared more about finding a scapegoat than about uncovering the truth. He wanted to chastise the man for shirking his duty. Then he saw the
doshin
’s free hand stray toward the short sword. He knew that only his rank kept the man from challenging him on the spot. He’d made the
doshin
lose face before the assistants and the townspeople. And, on his first day in the field, he had made an enemy.
    To make peace, he contented himself with saying, “Then we must find the real arsonist. You and your men and I will question the witnesses.”
    Sano watched the
doshin
and his men move off to mingle with the crowd. A curious elation came over him. He’d corrected an injustice and probably saved a man’s life.