The Case of the Sharaku Murders (36 page)

Next, the key was crafting a plausible biography for Shoei. If they made it
too
perfect it might arouse suspicion. The important thing was to make Nishijima believe he had reached the conclusion about Shoei's identity through his
own
research. Only a scholar could have come up with such a brilliant ploy. Mr. Saga agonized over finding just the right balance. Everything hinged on how accurately he estimated his adversary's scholarly abilities. It would be pointless hiding clues only to find out they were too subtle for Nishijima's powers of observation
.

But there was another problem that needed to be solved—how to draw the professor's attention to the catalogue in the first place. That was where Kiyochika's preface came in. The preface served two purposes. First, of course, it would attract Nishijima's attention to the catalogue. Second, it provided eyewitness testimony for the existence of Sato Masakichi, the collector of Shoei's paintings
.

Kiyochika had actually been in Tohoku at that time. This was something most ukiyo-e scholars would be aware of. There was nothing unusual about Kiyochika having written such a preface. The preface provided evidence for the existence of Sato Masakichi, and as soon as one accepted Sato's existence, one accepted the fact that the album had been published in 1907. For a scholar like the professor, Kiyochika was a more immediate and believable presence; the mere mention of his name would imbue the album with an air of reality
.

In his notebook Mr. Saga doesn't mention Sharaku's name even once, instead referring only to “a certain well-known artist.” I think that was probably a matter of pride. At any rate, he added the “certain well-known artist's” name to only
one
of the paintings—all of the others he signed simply “Shoei.” In this regard his skill as a calligrapher came in very handy
.

It seems Mr. Saga was tempted to sign the “certain well-known artist's” name to several more of the paintings out of fear that Nishijima might not notice it, but in the end he decided that would seem unnatural. Mr. Saga was hanging his hopes on the fact that the professor still had a modicum of scholarly ability left
.

For the plates, Mr. Saga decided to paste photographs directly into the album to ensure that the inscriptions on the paintings would be legible. While halftone printing would have provided the perfect finishing touch, it seems Mr. Saga was afraid the most crucial part might be lost
.

For the text, Mr. Saga says they took an old book from the period, cut out all the Chinese characters they needed one by one, pasted them onto mounts and made up the printing plates directly from that, presumably using offset printing. This explains why the catalogue had so little text in it
.

It was Mizuno who was mainly in charge of aging the pages and giving them a suitably musty, mildewy smell. Mr. Saga doesn't say exactly how Mizuno did it but he probably steeped them in black tea or fumigated them by burning peanut shells—both are old book forger's tricks. To give them a mildewy smell all he had to do was hang them in a damp place and leave them there for a while. If he were a perfectionist he might have inserted each sheet between the pages of a genuinely mildewed old book
.

Mr. Saga says that when the catalogue was finished even
he
was surprised at how convincing it looked. All they had to do now was to casually dangle the bait in front of Nishijima's nose
.

Once his curiosity was aroused, Nishijima would almost certainly send one of his minions to Akita to conduct further research. Mr. Saga came up with another plan in case this happened: he would position someone on the ground to move things along if necessary. If everything went as Mr. Saga predicted that person wouldn't need to do anything. But if the professor's proxy ran up against a brick wall, Mr. Saga's agent would casually appear and provide a clue. Once the desired conclusion had been reached, Nishijima would be notified of the result
.

From that point forward it was easy to predict what action Nishijima would take: he would use all the influence at his disposal to bring his momentous discovery to the attention of the world. That would be Nishijima's undoing as a scholar
.

In anticipation of this moment, Mr. Saga had inserted various clues in the catalogue that he could point to later to prove it was a fake. Once these were brought to light, Nishijima would find himself in a very tenuous position. What's more, these clues, while showing beyond a doubt that the catalogue was a fake, had been specifically designed so no one would be able to trace the forgery back to Mr. Saga and his associates. Mr. Saga would be able to point these out without having to worry about drawing suspicion to himself
.

Mr. Saga's plan had almost reached its final phase. But just as Mr. Saga was about to deliver the coup de grace, he found himself in an unforeseen situation
.

No doubt it all began when Mizuno and the other conspirators—amazed at the brilliance of Mr. Saga's plan to engineer Nishijima's downfall—began to get greedy. They seem to have decided on their own that if the professor determined the catalogue was genuine, there was no need for them to point out that it was a forgery. It's not surprising really. Even if the catalogue were revealed to be a fake and the professor's career destroyed, they didn't stand to profit one yen. But the moment Nishijima's discovery was announced to the world, their horde of Akita School paintings would be worth a fortune overnight. Just imagine—fifty Sharaku nikuhitsu-ga backed by the full faith and credit of the international art market! If they played their cards right the paintings might fetch more than 300 million yen
.

Mr. Saga believed it was at this point that Mizuno's resolve began to waver, but I think he probably had it in mind as a possibility all along, from the very moment Mr. Saga told him about his plan. Mr. Saga's righteous indignation alone was not enough to muster the human and financial resources needed to create the catalogue. From the very beginning, Mizuno and the others had no interest in unmasking the catalogue as a fake. So they used Mr. Saga for their own ends
.

Sooner or later, Mr. Saga realized what his accomplices intended to do. But it was already too late. The catalogue was finished and out of his hands
.

Mizuno and the others threatened Mr. Saga, saying they would go and confess everything to the police if he made a fuss about the catalogue's authenticity after Nishijima had announced his “discovery.” Mr. Saga had fallen into a trap of his own making. If his role in the forgery were revealed, the reputation of not only Professor Nishijima but the entire ukiyo-e establishment would be destroyed. The revelation of personal self-interest and petty grievances behind the UCS and EAA's factional rivalry would raise grave doubts in society at large about the credibility of the ukiyo-e establishment. However much Mr. Saga insisted he had acted out of righteous indignation, the general public simply wouldn't understand. On the contrary, once people learned
why
Mr. Saga was so upset at the professor, they would take an even dimmer view of the ukiyo-e world. The scandal would leave a wound which would take decades to heal. After all, the fallout from the Shunpoan forgery affair of 1934 has
still
not completely settled after all this time. Mr. Saga despaired. He had been trying to help ukiyo-e but instead he had gone and made things worse. It was all simply too horrible
.

For the sake of ukiyo-e's future Mr. Saga had no choice but to keep his mouth shut. But the idea that the catalogue would be accepted as authentic went against everything he stood for as a scholar. What made it all the more unbearable was the possibility that this “discovery” would only enhance Nishijima's influence. That was one thing Mr. Saga could not allow
.

At this point, suicide must have seemed like the easiest way out. Once he was dead, there would be no reason for Mizuno and the others to go and spill everything to the police. The crime would be theirs and theirs alone. They might try to claim that Mr. Saga had made the catalogue but they would have no proof. The month before he died, Mr. Saga seems to have become consumed with thoughts of suicide
.

Mr. Saga's death would solve everything—everything, that is, except for the question of Nishijima. That's when Mr. Saga thought of me. He must have known I detested the professor. He decided to reveal everything to me and let me decide what to do. Once the catalogue came to light I could choose to warn the professor or try to carry out his original plan—the decision was up to me. However, whatever I chose to do, it must be in the best interests of ukiyo-e. With that he concluded his notebook
.

I wept. I grieved. I was furious
.

Many times I was tempted to thrust the notebook in the professor's face saying, “Here, read this!” Mr. Saga was innocent. It was the professor who was to blame. At that moment, I swore to avenge Mr. Saga's death. I chose to finish what he had begun
.

However, at this point something happened which I hadn't expected
.

You, of all people, discovered the catalogue. Of course, this must have been an eventuality Mr. Saga foresaw. He had a high opinion of your abilities. What's more, Sharaku was your specialty. And being the professor's research assistant, your time was more or less at your disposal. Of all of Nishijima's students, you were the perfect person to find the catalogue
.

As it turns out, Kiyochika's preface and Shoei's biography were written with you in mind—this is how you would respond to this piece of information, interpret this word, this place name… Mr. Saga went over and over your thought patterns in his mind. As his guide he no doubt referred to your recently published paper, “Sharaku: The State of the Debate.”

The forgers had had you in their sights for several months
.

Their plan to lure you to the rare book sale by sending out a catalogue listing a large number of titles on ukiyo-e worked like a charm. If you hadn't returned the postcard asking to reserve one of the books listed in the catalogue they would have waited for their next opportunity. The books sale is held several times each month—there would have been other chances. Perhaps they had tried several times before already. Once you returned the postcard, all Mizuno had to do was contact you to say your name had been chosen; that would be enough to ensure you came
.

When you arrived at the book sale Mizuno casually approached you. All he had to do was get you interested in Sato's catalogue and their work would be half done. After that, if you hadn't taken any action within a few days, Mizuno probably would have contacted you and somehow drawn your attention to the painting with Sharaku's name on it, but fortunately you noticed it straight away. In that regard, you behaved exactly as Mr. Saga had expected. His estimation of your abilities had been exactly right
.

You were completely convinced that you had discovered the catalogue all by yourself. If Mizuno had just brought it to you and said, “Here, take a look at this,” you wouldn't have been inclined to accept the authenticity of Sharaku's lion painting so readily—Professor Nishijima even less so. It was crucial to their plan that you thought you had stumbled upon the catalogue by chance. If I hadn't already read Mr. Saga's notebook when you told me about how you had discovered the catalogue, I probably would have believed it was pure chance too
.

I was flabbergasted
.

Until you showed it to me, it hadn't occurred to me that you might be the one who discovered the catalogue. What's more, you told me you had already shown it to the professor and he had deemed that it “had possibilities
.”

But I didn't want you getting mixed up in this affair. When you showed me the catalogue, all the while I was looking at it I was trying to think of a way to explain to you it was a forgery. The easiest thing would have been to have you read Mr. Saga's notebook, but I didn't want to do that. For one thing, it might bring dishonor on Mr. Saga's memory. “C'mon, there must be a way I can let him know it's a fake without telling him about Mr. Saga,” I thought desperately. Just then my finger happened to rub against the inside of one of the uncut double-leaved pages. Suddenly I understood why they had had to print the book using this traditional Japanese method. There were two reasons. One was that in order to give the pages the patina of old age it had been necessary to take the book apart, hang up the pages separately and reassemble them. That would have been difficult with a Western-style binding. But with a traditional Japanese-style binding, the pages could just be sewn back together after they'd been artificially aged. The second reason was to conceal the fact that they had used offset printing, as Mr. Saga implies in his notebook
.

The main difference between offset and letterpress printing is that with the latter the pressure of the type makes a strong impression on the page—with offset printing there is virtually none. When printing on thin paper using letterpress printing, the impression of the type will show through on the back of the page, and punctuation marks will sometimes even leave a hole in the paper. But the backs of the uncut pages in the catalogue were smooth. That's a sure sign offset printing was used. To conceal this they used double-leaved pages. That way no one would be able to see the backs of the pages
.

It was ingenious, but it had its drawbacks
.

Though lithography existed in Japan in the early 1900s offset printing did not. Therefore, anyone familiar with the history of printing in Japan would have immediately realized the catalogue was a fake. I was about to say as much to you when all of a sudden the desire for revenge welled up inside me again. The professor had told you that the catalogue “had possibilities.” At this rate, it looked like he would fall into Mr. Saga's trap. Moreover, the question of the impression made by the type—or lack thereof—which I had noticed was really a very simple thing. If I were to point it out later, publicly, there would be no way to trace the forgery back to Mr. Saga. I could destroy the professor's career without having to use Mr. Saga's notebook as evidence. This thought made me ecstatic. I could bury the professor without causing trouble for anyone else
.