The Case of the Sharaku Murders (17 page)

“Huh?”

“You said it yourself, Ryohei: Eiwa's existence confirms Shoei lived in Honjo, just as Sato's book says, right? It also tells us Shoei was an artist of considerable standing. To be honest, at first I didn't believe Sharaku would have chosen to leave Edo and come to live up here in the middle of nowhere. But finding out about Eiwa has put those worries to rest. I can see now he might have wanted to live out the remainder of his life in peace and tranquility.”

Ryohei replied, “But that doesn't get us anywhere.”

“But it proves the biography of Shoei is accurate. Of course, just because part of it is true doesn't mean it all is. But you know what it says about him knowing Kokan? That seems plausible too. On the whole I think it's factual, including the part about Shoei returning to Akita in the 1790s.”

“True enough. I guess it is still possible Shoei was Sharaku.” Ryohei's expression brightened at last. “Which means Shoei lived in Odate at some point… I wonder if there are any clues here…” Ryohei and Saeko turned their heads simultaneously and gazed out the window at the cityscape around them.

Again Ryohei was struck by a thought. Was Sharaku here, in this very city, at a different point in history?

Saeko interrupted his reverie. “I wonder if Sato acquired that painting by Shoei here in Odate?” she mused out loud. “The railway line between here and Kosaka had been built then, right?”

“No. It didn't open until 1909. But it's no distance at all from here to Kosaka. People were probably going back and forth all the time. After all, the Ou Main Line to Aomori stopped here. Kiyochika would have gotten off the train here in Odate when he went to visit Sato in Kosaka.”

“On the other hand, Kakunodate is really far from Kosaka,” pointed out Saeko. “In the Meiji period it must have been a huge trek. And Honjo is on the other side of the prefecture. So Odate is the only place Sato could have acquired the painting.”

“Good point,” agreed Ryohei. “Shoei's painting is dated 1798, when he was living in Kakunodate.”

“So when did he come to Odate, I wonder?” mumbled Saeko, almost to herself.

“Ah, there's the rub,” said Ryohei with a deep sigh. “That's what I'd like to know.”

Half an hour later, Ryohei left Saeko and returned to his room. He had just begun summarizing in his notebook what they had learned that day when the telephone rang.

“It's me.”

The voice on the other end of the line was Yosuke's.

“I just got a call from Saeko,” he said. “Sounds like you're really onto something. So you found a protégé of Shoei's?”

“Well, possibly.”

“Always Mr. Cautious, aren't you?” laughed Yosuke. “Saeko says the problem now is figuring out when Shoei was in Odate.”

“Yeah, our information's inconclusive…”

“Actually, that's why I called. I think I found the answer—by chance of course.”

“You're kidding!” said Ryohei in disbelief. How had Yosuke, sitting in Tokyo, managed to find out what had eluded them? He pressed his friend to explain.

“It was nothing really,” replied Yosuke. “At first when Saeko mentioned Odate the name didn't mean anything to me, but after hanging up I checked my encyclopedia of Japanese place names. You know, one of those Sanseido pocket editions. Hold on a sec—let me read it to you: ‘Odate: central city in the Odate Basin on the upper reaches of the Yoneshiro River. Population: 77,664. Seat of the Asari clan during the Muromachi period. In 1602, the Satake clan was put in charge of Odate Castle and unified the Hinai-Ani region. In 1795, the daimyo of Akita established a district magistrate's office there.'”

“1795!” Ryohei could hardly believe his ears.

“Exactly—the year Sharaku disappeared.”

“But how does that connect him to Shoei?”

“Shoei left Edo and returned to Akita, right? Well, I don't think he simply quit his job and returned home; he was
sent
there to take up a new post in the district magistrate's office in Odate. I bet it had something to do with the Ani copper mine. It says here the Ani region had been placed under Odate's jurisdiction, right? Well, while I was at it, I did some research and found out that, in its heyday, over twenty thousand people lived in Ani. That appears to have been after Gennai had left the mine. In other words, in the 1790s the mine was just reaching its peak, which is why the district magistrate's office was moved there. Riots are common in mining towns, the authorities must have been short-staffed and sent to Edo for extra help.”

“Speaking of the Ani mine, wasn't Naotake's job—”

“Inspector of mine production?”

“Exactly.”

“Akita clan officials wanted to give Naotake a reason—other than studying painting—for being in Edo. Therefore, can't we assume the same must have been true for his protégé Shoei?”

“Particularly because Shoei probably wasn't nearly so famous in Akita as Naotake.”

“Which means it's possible that when Shoei was sent to Edo he was also given a job dealing with mine production. And when mine production took off, a new district magistrate's office was set up, and they needed people to run it…”

“Hmm… It's quite possible,” Ryohei admitted. “The bio of Shoei in Sato's catalogue only says he was a samurai—it doesn't say he was an official painter.”

“So have I convinced Mr. Cautious?” asked Yosuke.

“Hey, cut me slack; it's just the way I am.”

Yosuke gave a big laugh.

Ryohei went on, “But one thing's got me a bit worried.”

“What's that?”

“Well, if Shoei left Edo in 1795, the possibility he was Sharaku seems pretty good. 1795 was perhaps the most important year in Sharaku's life. But to be honest—I know this sounds strange coming from me—somehow it doesn't seem quite real.”

“That's because you're the one who discovered Sato's book. What would your opinion be if this were someone else's theory?”

“Well… it's still not clear what was Shoei's connection to Tsutaya. But I guess I'd say it seems fairly convincing.”

“Is that it? What am I going to do with you?” exclaimed Yosuke. “But I suppose it's a good thing to be cautious. As for Tsutaya, I think I might be able to come up with something.”

“You think so?” asked Ryohei.

“Hey, I haven't exactly been sitting around twiddling my thumbs. Anyway, I'll get everything straightened out by the time you get back to Tokyo.”

“You mean your research materials?”

“No, my thoughts. I've read so many articles about Sharaku lately my head is still a bit of a jumble.” Then, with affected seriousness, Yosuke told Ryohei to give Saeko his regards and rang off.

1795
…
Odate
…
Shoei
…
Sharaku
…

The same words kept flashing over and over again through Ryohei's mind.

5

Tsutaya's Revenge

N
ovember
2
      WITH KUDO DRIVING, Ryohei and Saeko managed to reach Kakunodate before noon. They had left Odate before nine o'clock that morning and had been on the road for about two-and-a-half hours. They booked rooms in a hotel downtown that Kudo had recommended. As it was still too early to check in, they deposited their bags at the front desk. Ryohei then invited Kudo to join them in the hotel restaurant on the second floor.

“I'm having udon,” said Saeko, not even bothering to look at the plastic food models in the showcase at the entrance to the restaurant. Ryohei wondered if she was tired of all the rich food they had been eating. He and Kudo both ordered the deep-fried breaded pork filet.

“Same as yesterday,” remarked Saeko, with an amazed look on her face. “I'm surprised you don't get tired of it.”

The restaurant was empty. The three of them sat down at a table next to a window with a view of the town.

“Look, that's the man I saw last night,” said Saeko, staring down at the parking lot.

“What man? Saw where?”

“That man walking in our direction. He was staying at our hotel in Odate last night.”

Ryohei scooted over next to Saeko and looked down into the parking lot. A tall thin man in his mid-thirties was walking toward the hotel and looking up in their direction. A staircase led from the parking lot directly to the restaurant. The man headed for it. He must have known there was a restaurant upstairs.

“What's
he
doing here?” muttered Ryohei.

“You know him?” asked Saeko.

“He owns an antique shop in Morioka. I go there a lot.”

“Really? He was watching us.”

“Watching us—when?”

“Last night, when we were in the restaurant. Oh, that's right. You were facing the other way. He was seated in the back of the restaurant the whole time, drinking a beer by himself.”

“Really?”

“He'd occasionally look over and stare in our direction—it gave me the creeps.”

“He was probably drunk. I'm sure he couldn't resist your beauty.”

“Cut it out. It wasn't
that
kind of look,” Saeko said, with a shy smile.

The man entered the restaurant and sat down at a table not far away. Ryohei looked at him. For a moment their eyes met. Ryohei instinctively nodded his head. The man seemed a bit taken aback but mumbled some form of greeting. He seemed to have recognized Ryohei.

“Ah, I thought it was you.” The man stood up again and walked over to their table with a smile on his face. “I'm sorry. I've forgotten your name,” he said, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Tsuda,” Ryohei replied.

“Ah, that's it. I though you looked familiar when I saw you last night but I couldn't remember your name. That's why I didn't come over and say hello.”

“You mean in the restaurant?” asked Ryohei.

“Oh, you saw me then? My, aren't you the sly one. You should have said something!”

“No, my friend here only just told me.” Ryohei introduced Saeko.

“Pleased to meet you. My name is Kato,” the man said, a smile still pasted on his face. “Proprietor of Kozukata Antiques in Morioka.”

“Kozukata? How do you write that in Chinese characters?” asked Saeko.

“Here, let me give you my card,” replied the man, reaching into his pocket. “So I take it you don't hail from Morioka then?”

“No,” Ryohei answered for her, “Okayama.”

“I thought so. Everyone in Morioka's heard of Kozukata Castle. It once belonged to the daimyo of Nambu,” explained Kato.

Saeko nodded. Kato moved over to their table and took the seat next to Saeko.

“By the way, you haven't dropped by my shop lately,” Kato said to Ryohei, lighting a cigarette.

“That's because I haven't been back home to Morioka lately.”

“Ah, that's right. You live in Tokyo.”

“Yes. So how's business? You seem to be keeping busy.”

“Lousy. You know what they say—‘No rest for the weary.' I'm here on a buying trip, but there's not much on the market these days.”

“Seen any woodblock prints?”

“Afraid not. All the good stuff winds up in Tokyo. The best I can manage is a Kunisada.”

Though Kato's shop specialized mainly in Japanese swords, he also sold ukiyo-e prints. Whenever Ryohei was home visiting his parents in Morioka, he always popped in at least once or twice. But Kato was normally quite taciturn and until now their discussions had been confined strictly to business. Ryohei wasn't surprised Kato hadn't remembered his name.

“Do you often come to Akita to buy antiques?”

“Yeah. If I don't change my merchandise every six months or so my customers get bored. This time I'm visiting Odate, Kakunodate, and Yokote.”

“Did you have any luck in Odate?” asked Ryohei. It suddenly occurred to him that since Kato's business took him around lots of antiques shops, he was the perfect person to hit up for information about Shoei.

“Nothing worth mentioning. If it's woodblock prints you're after, you'll find portraits of samurai and that sort of thing around here, but not much else.”

“How about the Akita School?”

“Western-style paintings? Do you collect those now too?”

“No, I'm just doing a bit of research. That's why I've come to Akita.”

“I see. Well, I can't think of anything offhand. I've only seen two or three Akita School paintings since I went into business. I'm afraid all the good ones have already been snapped up.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Even though Kakunodate's the birthplace of the Akita School, you won't find any of their paintings here—not even in the local museum,” Kato added. “You have to go to Akita city if you want to see some.”

“Oh, I don't want to
see
any,” said Ryohei. “I'm just trying to find out about a painter.”

“Which one? Shozan? Naotake?”

“A protégé of Naotake's—someone named Chikamatsu Shoei.”

“Chikamatsu Shoei? Never heard of him.”

“He lived in Odate at one time.”

“Really? Imagine a Western-style painter in little town like that! On second thoughts, though, perhaps it's not all that surprising—it
is
Akita, after all.”

“I think he made a fairly large number of paintings.”

“Is that so? Well, there are only about four or five artists with any real commercial value.” Kato proceeded to rattle off a list of names: “Shozan, Naotake, Satake Yoshimi, Unbo… Then there's Dokugensai—not quite as valuable, but if one of his paintings came up for sale it would cause quite a stir.”

“And how about Yoshimi's son, Yoshifumi?” asked Ryohei.

“He was a bit of a dilettante. Still, I suppose his work would fetch a pretty good price.”

“So none of the other Akita School painters have any value?”

“It's not that they don't have any value. It's just that their works hardly ever come up for sale, so it's hard to put a price on them. Rumor has it that just before the war the market was flooded with forgeries, so there are quite a few fake Shozans and Naotakes floating around out there.”

“You mean out-and-out forgeries?” asked Saeko.

“Usually there's just a forged signature, typically on a painting that's not been signed. But there have been cases where someone has actually cut off the original signature and faked another one.”

“And these are being bought and sold?” asked Saeko incredulously.

“I see quite a lot of them I'm afraid. A signature is often the only thing that separates something worthless from something valuable. It's not just the Akita School either. Western-style paintings in general were mostly copies to begin with, so it can be hard to tell the best artists from the second-rate ones. In that sense they're easy to forge.”

“I see. So even one of Shoei's paintings might be…”

“If it's been in the hands of a collector for a long time, that's a different matter. But if it's been in circulation for a while, there's a good chance someone's tampered with it.”

Ryohei looked at Kato in disbelief.

“Was this Shoei a good artist?” asked the antiques dealer.

Ryohei nodded emphatically.

“It that case, the chances are pretty high. I doubt anyone would try to pass him off as Naotake… Yoshimi more likely.”

Of all the stupid—! Even if Shoei was Sharaku we might never know!

“But…” Ryohei was about to say something to this effect, then stopped himself. He didn't want to raise the issue of Sharaku with Kato just yet. Instead he said, “What happens if you discover you've bought a forgery?”

“What happens? If it's a bad one there's not much one can do about it. But if it's good I let it go. In this business, your eyes are your livelihood—nobody wants to admit they've been duped.”

“You mean you'd sell something knowing it's a forgery?” Saeko asked in an accusing tone.

“If I know for sure it's a forgery, I wouldn't sell it to a customer. But I'd put it up for sale at a dealers-only auction. It's like that card game Old Maid. You know—whoever gets stuck with the Queen loses. Only in this case, the dealer with the worst eye gets stuck with the forgery. After that, it's out of my hands.”

“That's awful!” said Saeko, looking to Ryohei for confirmation.

“What goes around comes around,” replied Kato. “It's happened to me several times. At first, you feel like cursing the bastard who sold it to you. But if you think of it as a learning experience it helps to ease the pain. That's how you develop your eye as an antiques dealer.”

Kato's narrow lips broke into a smile.

“But since no one ever buys something
knowing
it's a fake,” said Saeko, “it follows that sometimes a dealer might unknowingly pass a fake on to a customer, right?”

“Naturally,” replied Kato.

“But doesn't that lead to problems?”

“Why should it? The dealer sold the piece believing it was genuine; he didn't intend to deceive his customer. He never would have sold it if he'd known it was a forgery. In this business, trust is everything. A dealer would never risk losing the trust of customers he had spent years cultivating just to turn a quick profit.”

“I see,” said Saeko. She sounded somewhat mollified.

“If a customer realizes later he's bought a fake, most dealers will agree to take it back and refund his money.”

“Then what?” asked Ryohei curiously.

“Say nothing and sell it at auction. Once you admit it's a fake, no one will buy it. Works can travel around the country like that for years, passing from one dealer to another. Eventually it winds up in the hands of the least discerning dealer in Japan, and that's the end of it,” said Kato with evident delight.

“What a racket!” exclaimed Saeko.

“That's the art world for you. Show me twenty pictures by Yokoyama Taikan, and I'll bet you nineteen of them are fakes. In this business if you don't know your stuff backwards and forwards you'll soon get taken to the cleaners. Oh, the stories I could tell… For example, I know this dealer who bought a hanging scroll by a big-name artist. If it'd been genuine, a scroll like that'd sell for three or four million yen. This guy got it for just seven hundred thousand. No one else was willing to touch it. He was sure it was the real thing though. He took it home and hung it in his shop, but none of his customers was interested. They didn't simply ignore it; even worse, they'd take a long hard look at it, then shake their heads and walk away. You see, the painting was
too
good. The artist in question is famous for haiga—the paintings made to accompany haiku—which people praise for their rough, carefree quality. But this painting was too clean and neat. No one came right out and
said
to the dealer's face it was a forgery, but they steered clear of it. He eventually gave up and put it up for sale at the next the dealers' auction, but he didn't find any takers. In the end, what do you suppose he did?”

Ryohei, Saeko and Kudo indicated they didn't have the faintest idea.

Kato laughed. “He cut off the signature!”

The three stared at him in disbelief.

“That's right—snipped it right off and had the scroll remounted. Then he took it to the big trade show in Tokyo. He bet the painting could stand on its own. Sure enough, he ended up getting a cool two million for it.”

“You're kidding!” exclaimed Saeko.