“Any suspicious activity; any strange comings or goings? Any boats around the island?”

More negative responses. Then Kiyoshi blurted, “Please 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.

13

十三

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.

“You didn’t find the gun?” he asked, noting with disappointment their empty hands.

“No, and it’s too dark to see anything now,” said the leader.

“Resume the search in the morning,” Sano said.

He’d intended to requestion Chief Ohira and the staff, but before he could dismount and enter the guardhouse, a strange spectacle drew his attention. He rode down the waterfront promenade for a better look.

In the harbor, a Chinese junk glowed with hundreds of lanterns that hung from its masts, golden sails fluttering like flames. On the deck, musicians played a dissonant melody on flute, drums, and cymbals. Sailors danced, queues waving; their song drifted across the water. Down the hill came a procession of marchers carrying red lanterns and orange-robed priests bearing two litters. The first held the large gold statue of a fat, smiling god, surrounded by flowers and smoking incense burners. Upon the second litter rode a diminutive old man with a shaven head. He wore a multicolored brocade stole over his clerical robes. Other priests carried objects fashioned from gilt paper: houses, boats, furniture; animals; stacks of money. A boisterous crowd of Chinese sailors followed. Japanese guards, armed with bamboo canes, accompanied the marchers down a pier toward the junk.

Dismounting, Sano joined the crowd that had gathered to watch the procession. “What’s going on?” he asked a soldier.

“This is a launching ceremony for the Chinese junk. The statue is their sea god. They pray to him for a safe journey.”