ericlustbader.the ninja-第36部分

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　〃Then　the　Americans　deliberately　disregarded　their　own　Constitution　for　Japan；　restoring　the　reactionary　zaibatsu；　guiding　us　in　a　right…wing　direction。〃
　The　Colonel　nodded　but　said　nothing。　He　felt　now　as　if　he　might　never　make　it　to　the　park　gate；　as　if　it　were　the　end　of　a　treacherous　overland　journey　that　he　no　longer　had　sufficient　strength　to　make。　'Let's　sit　here　a　minute；'　he　said　softly。　They　went　carefully　over　the　low　railing；　sat　on　a　patch　of　grass　filled　with　sunlight。　Still；　it　seemed　chill　to　the　Colonel　and　he　hunched　his　shoulders　against　the　wind。　Sheets　of　thinly　layered　cloud　passed；　now　and　again；　across　the　face　of　the　sun；　causing　brief　shadows　to　dance　like　ghosts　across　the　wide　lawn。　The　cherry　blossoms　rustled；　the　cicadas　wailed　like　brass　being　beaten；　a　brown　and　white　butterfly　darted　erratically　along　the　top　of　the　grass；　a　blithe　dancer　without　a　partner。　The　day　seemed　like　a　haiku　to　the　Colonel；　perfect　and　sad；　bringing　tears　to　the　eyes。　Why　were　so　many　haiku　sorrowful？　he　wondered。
　The　Colonel　had　witnessed　many　deaths　in　his　day：　the　deaths　of　men　he　knew　and　those　he　did　not。　One　develops　over　time　a　kind　of　shell　against　which　these　personal　disasters　must　bounce　away；　either　that　or　one　goes　mad。　Until　death　takes　on　the　unreality　of　a　mime　show　and　one　no　longer　contemplates　it。
　This　death　in　the　park；　on　this　sunny　spring　day；　among　the　children；　the　inheritors　of　Japan；　was　different。　The　Colonel　felt　deflated；　like　Caesar　returning　home　to　Rome　from　the　arms　of　Cleopatra；　from　eternal　summer　to　the　chill　of　March。　He　thought　of　the　eagle　circling　Caesar's　statue　in　the　square；　the　augury。　And　it　seemed　to　him　that　this　important　death；　which　he　had　witnessed；　was　also　an　augury　of　sorts。　But　what　it　portended　he　could　not　say。
　'Are　you　all　right？'　Nicholas　asked。　He　put　a　hand　on　his　father's　arm。
　'What？'　For　a　moment；　the　Colonel's　eyes　were　far　away。　'Oh；　yes。　Quite　all　right；　Nicholas。　Not　to　worry。　I　was　just　thinking　of　how　to　break　the　news　of　Hanshichiro's　death　to　your　mother。　She　will　be　most　upset。'
　He　was　silent　for　a　time；　contemplating　the　pink…white　blossoms　all　around。　After　a　time　he　felt　calmer。
　'Father；　I　want　to　ask　you　something。'
　It　might　have　been　a　moment　that　the　Colonel　had　dreaded；　but　Nicholas's　tone　of　voice　was　such　that　his　father　knew　that　he　had　spent　much　time　thinking　about　the　question。　'What　is　it？'
　'Does　Satsugai　belong　to　the　Genyosha？'
　'Why　do　you　ask？'
　'It　seems　a　logical　question。　Satsugai　is　the　head　of　one　of　the　zaibatsu；　he　is　virulently　reactionary　in　his　philosophy　and　he　was　born　in　Fukuoka。'　Nicholas　turned　to　his　father。　'Frankly；　I'd　be　surprised　if　he　wasn't　a　member。　Wasn't　it　that　which　allowed　him　to　be　restored　to　power　after　the　1947　purge？'
　'Ah；'　the　Colonel　said　judiciously。　'Ah。　Very　logical　assumption；　Nicholas。　You're　quite　observant。'　The　Colonel　thought　for　a　moment。　To　their　left　several　grey　plovers　broke　from　the　treetops　in　a　flurry　and；　circling　once；　headed　west　into　the　sun。　Farther　away；　the　dragon　box　kite　was　being　slowly　lowered　by　invisible　hands；　the　day　was　almost　done。　'The　Genyosha；'　the　Colonel　said　carefully；　〃was　founded　by　Hiraoka　Kotaro。　His　most　trusted　lieutenant　was　Munisai　Shokan。　Satsugai　is　his　son。'
　Nicholas　waited　for　a　time　before　saying；　'Is　that　a　yes？'
　The　Colonel　nodded；　thinking　of　something　else。　'Do　you　know　why　Satsugai　named　his　only　son　Saigo？'
　'No。'
　'Remember　I　told　you　that；　in　the　beginning；　the　Genyosha　decided　to　work　within　the　political　framework　of　the　country？'
　'Yes。'
　'Well；　they　came　to　that　conclusion　the　hard　way。　The　Military　Conscription　Act　split　the　Meiji　oligarchy　into　three　factions。　One　of　these　was　led　by　a　man　named　Saigo。　He　was　the　leader　of　the　ultra…conservative　samurai。　In　1877　Saigo　led　thirty　thousand　of　his　samurai　into　the　field　of　battle　against　a　modern　conscription　army　put　together　by　the　Meiji　government。　Armed　with　rifles　and　guns；　they　easily　defeated　the　samurai。'
　'Of　course！'　Nicholas　exclaimed。　'The　Satsuma　Rebellion。　I　never　connected　the　names　before。'　He　broke　off　a　blade　of　grass。　'That　was　the　last　samurai　uprising；　wasn't　it？'
　'The　last；　yes。'　The　Colonel　got　up；　feeling　at　last　as　if　he　were　ready　to　face　the　outside　world；　Cheong's　saddened　face。
　He　could　not　bear　it　when　she　was　sad。
　They　crossed　the　remainder　of　the　park；　passed　beneath　the　high　gate。　Behind　them　the　sky　was　clear；　of　dragons；　the　sun　lost　within　the　thickening　haze　that　reddened　the　sky　like　a　drop　of　blood　on　a　blotter。
　That　night　they　both　dreamed　of　the　death　of　Hanshichiro；　each　in　his　own　separate　way。
　
　
　
　
　Third　Ring
　THE　WATER　BOOK
　I
　New　York　City/West　Bay　Bridge；　Summer　Present
　The　grey　concrete　blocks　of　Manhattan　shimmered　under　the　late　July　sun。　It　was　sticky。　Nicholas　could　feel　the　heat　penetrating　the　thin　soles　of　his　summer　loafers；　making　even　walking　unfortable。
　He　stood　near　the　kerb　at　Seventh　Avenue　just　outside　the　modernistic　marquee　of　the　new　Madison　Square　Garden　and　Penn　Station　plex。　He　glanced　up　at　it；　thinking　how　quickly　it　had　gone　out　of　style。　Across　from　him　was　the　Scatter　Hilton　Hotel　and；　a　block　up；　the　hideous　plastic　and　glass　frontage　of　a　McDonald's。
　Distractedly；　he　watched　the　traffic　shooting　the　lights；　weaving　lanes；　waves　of　steel。　He　was　thinking　of　the　call　that　had　e　in　late　last　night。　Vincent's　voice　had　been　a　terrific　blow。　Terry　and　Eileen；　murdered。　It　seemed　impossible　to　imagine。　No　prowler　could　possibly　have　gained　entrance　to　Terry's　apartment　without　his　knowing　it；　he　could　not　have　been　surprised　in　that　way。　How　then？　Vincent　had　been　peculiarly　unforthing；　his　voice　had　sounded　lifeless　and；　when　Nicholas　began　to　press　him；　he　had　merely　repeated　the　instructions　to　be　at　the　Seventh　Avenue　entrance　to　Penn　Station　after　taking　the　first　morning　train　into　the　city。
　The　sun　burned　the　streets　out　of　a　cloudless　sky。　Nicholas's　shirt　stuck　to　his　skin。　He　ran　his　fingers　through　his　hair；　wishing　now　that　he　had　had　it　cut　shorter　in　deference　to　…the　heat。　The　lights　were　red　along　the　avenue　and　the　heavy　air　hung　like　brocaded　curtains；　stagnant；　feeling　almost　solid　with　the　heat。
　It　was　not　Vincent　who　would　be　meeting　him　but；　he　had　been　told；　a　Detective　Lieutenant　Croaker。　Lew　Croaker。　Nicholas　thought　he　remembered　the　name。　Free　time　had　made　The　New　York　Times　that　much　more　important。　A　case　earlier　in　the　year。　Didion。　The　papers；　even　the　normally　staid　Times；　had　turned　it　into　a　spectacular　event；　perhaps　because　it　had　occurred　in　the　Actium　House；　the　most　exclusive　new　residence　building　on　Fifth　Avenue。　Croaker　had　been　brought　in。　He　was　someone's　blue…eyed　boy；　he　got　a　ton　of　press；　especially　on　the　six　o'clock　news　on　TV。
　The　lights　on　Seventh　changed　to　green　and　the　traffic　resumed　its　herky…jerky　flow；　dominated　by　yellow　taxis。　Out　of　this　mass　of　dodging　confusion　a　sleek　black　limo　abruptly　appeared。　Its　tinted　glass　made　it　difficult　to　see　inside。　It　slid　to　a　quiet　stop　in　front　of　him。　The　back　door　on　the　kerb　side　opened　and　Nicholas　saw　movement　on　the　far　side　of　the　seat。　A　figure　leaned　forward；　beckoned　。to　him。　'Please　get　in；　Mr　Linnear；'　a　vibrant　voice　said　from　out　of　the　depths。
　As　he　hesitated；　the　front　door　swung　silently　open　and　a　brawny　man　in　a　dark　blue　business　suit　with　short…cropped　brown　hair　moved　forward　and　guided　him　into　the　limo。　Both　doors　swung　to　with　a　fortable　thunk　that　bespoke　monied　engineering　and　the　limo　accelerated　into　the　traffic　flow。
　There　was　a　spaciousness　inside　not　usually　an　attribute　of　automobiles　and　a　silence　that　was　truly　remarkable。　Outside；　the　city　glided　by　as　if　pulled　on　velvet　runners。　They　might　have　been　stationary；　a　backdrop　being　rolled　by　them；　save　for　the　slight　disfitures　of　acceleration　and　deceleration。
　The　interior　was　done　all　in　dove…grey　velvet　and　it　was；　quite　obviously；　a　custom　job；　nothing　was　as　one　might　see　it　on　the　showroom　floor。　It　was　cool　and　dim；　like　the　ulterior　of　an　expensive　bar。　Even　the　vibration　from　the　massive　V…8　engine　was　kept　to　a　minimum。
　There　were　three　men　in　the　car：　a　driver；　the　man　in　the　dark　blue　business　suit　who　sat　on　the　passenger's　side　in　front　and　the　figure　in　the　back；　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　velvet　bench　seat。　This　last　regarded　him　now。　He　was　tall　and　somewhat　stocky。　He　wore　a　conservative　yet　impeccable　lightweight　linen　suit。　Beneath　this；　Nicholas　could　see　that　there　was　no　fat　on　him；　his　bulk　was　muscle　and　bone。　He　had　a　large　head　with　a　somewhat　thrusting　jaw　which；　overall；　gave　him　a　rather　aggressive　appearance。　This　was　enhanced　by　his　slanting　forehead　and　short　gunmetal…grey　hair。　His　lean　cheeks　were　pockmarked　and　his　deep…set　blue　eyes；　like　marble　chips；
　were　guarded　by　black　bushy　eyebrows。　Altogether；　Nicholas　decided；　it　was　a　face　that　had　borne　the　brunt　of　many　a　tough　decision　and　won　them　all。　Nicholas　would　have　cast　him　as　a　general　and　no　lower　than　a　five…star。
　'Would　you　care　for　a　drink？'　The　man　beside　him　had　spoken　in　his　manding　voice　but　it　was　blue…business…suit　who　mo