As he and his men rode off, Sano did not look forward to the talk he must have with Hirata.
They arrived home as the wet, gray day melted into grayer twilight. But Sano had no chance to look for Hirata. His chief aide met him at the door and said, “The Honorable Elders and the Supreme Commander of the Army are waiting to see you.”
Sano desperately needed to continue his investigation, but he couldn’t put off his three important allies. He joined Ohgami, Uemori, and General Isogai, who sat in his audience chamber. Their solemn expressions warned Sano that this was not a social call. “Greetings,” he said, bowing to them, then taking his seat on the dais.
They bowed in return. General Isogai said, “We warned you.” His loud voice and shrewd gaze were hard.
“But you didn’t stay out of trouble.” Disapproval marked Ohgami’s pensive features. “First your wife is involved in the murder of Lord Mori; then you’re implicated in treason.”
“Merciful gods, you attract problems like shit draws flies!” Uemori coughed in disgust, his jowls wobbling.
Sano remembered his last meeting with them, when they’d advised him that his political position was shaky and he should exercise caution. It seemed as if ages had passed since then. The last thing he needed now was their censure. “Unforeseen circumstances arose. You can hardly blame me for them.”
“Perhaps not,” Ohgami said, “but we do fault you for the way you’re handling this murder investigation.”
“You’ve managed to antagonize both Lord Matsudaira and the shogun,” General Isogai said, “not to mention that you’ve opened yourself up wide to attack by Police Commissioner Hoshina.”
“This is exactly what you don’t need,” Ohgami said.
“And neither do we,” Uemori said.
The three men glared at Sano. He felt his own antipathy stir toward them. As usual, their criticism didn’t help, and they were wasting time he couldn’t afford to waste.
“Well, my honorable colleagues,” he said, “I thank you for your show of support.”
“We’re here to do more than show support,” Ohgami said. “We’re going to tell you exactly what to do to get yourself out of this sorry mess.”
“Go right ahead. Some practical solutions would be helpful for a change,” Sano said.
The elders looked to General Isogai, who said, “Let Lady Reiko take the blame for Lord Mori’s murder.”
“What?” Astonishment struck Sano. He couldn’t believe he’d understood correctly or hide his horror.
“You heard me,” General Isogai said. “As far as Lord Mori’s murder is concerned, Lord Matsudaira and the shogun want blood for blood. Throw Lady Reiko to the executioner, and they’ll be satisfied. As far as the treason is concerned, a little sacrifice on your part would go a long way toward convincing them that you’re their loyal subject.”
“That’s out of the question.” Sano was so incensed by this preposterous advice that he lost self-control and sputtered with rage. “Lady Reiko is my wife.” He didn’t mention that he loved her. Love had no place in his colleagues’ world. “I would never sacrifice her for anything.”
The elders grimaced in disdain. General Isogai said, “You can get yourself another wife. There are many other women you can choose from. What’s important is your political position.”
“And yours,” Sano said, bitter. “You’re asking me to put the mother of my son and our unborn child to death in order to save your own skins!”
“It’s fortunate that you already have an heir,” Ohgami interjected. “You can always beget another one later if you need it. And of course we’re concerned that if you go down, you’ll take us with you. But let’s not be crude.”
Sano was so astounded by their cold, venal insensitivity that he couldn’t speak.
“Let’s be rational instead,” Uemori said, deliberately mistaking Sano’s silence for agreement. “Lady Reiko was caught naked and covered with blood beside Lord Mori’s corpse. Her dagger was the murder weapon. She did it, there’s no question.”
“Do you really want to live with a woman who stabbed somebody to death and cut off his manhood?” General Isogai shook his head. “I don’t see how you can sleep at night.”
“She didn’t do it,” Sano burst out. Even though he knew Reiko hadn’t told him everything, he couldn’t admit to them, or himself, that she might be guilty.
They gave him pitying looks. “Believe she’s innocent if you want,” General Isogai said, “but we’ve heard that you haven’t turned up a scrap of evidence in her favor.”
“I will,” Sano declared. “It’s just a matter of time.”
“Time is what you don’t have,” Ohgami said. “You can’t protect her much longer.”
“The thing to do is cut your own losses,” General Isogai said.
“Don’t let Lady Reiko drag you with her to the execution ground. Dump her.”
Their nerve infuriated Sano. He hated the fact that their solution was the wisest for a man in his situation. “I refuse!”
They exchanged glances that said they’d expected as much. “You’d best weigh your decision very carefully,” Ohgami said. “We warned you that if you continued on your reckless course, we might wish to sever our association with you.”
“We’ve done what we could on your behalf,” said Uemori. “We’ve assured your other allies that you’re in control of the situation and talked them out of withdrawing their support from you. We’ve urged Lord Matsudaira to give you the benefit of doubt. Those are the only reasons he’s allowed you a free rein thus far. But your attempts to clear Lady Reiko have been futile. We won’t be destroyed by your stubborn loyalty to her.”
“To speak bluntly,” General Isogai said, “it’s either her or us, and by us, I mean all your allies, not just we three in this room. Stand by her, and you stand alone.”
Sano didn’t hesitate for an instant, even though he knew that if he decided in favor of Reiko, he was not only finished as chamberlain, but without allies to counter Lord Matsudaira’s distrust of him and oppose Police Commissioner Hoshina’s campaign to ruin him, he was certain to be condemned to death as a traitor. “It’s her,” he said even though he knew he’d just drastically reduced his chances of saving Reiko.
Rising, he gestured toward the door. His companions looked disappointed but unsurprised as they stood and bowed. “Fine,” General Isogai said. As they left the chamber, he said, “Go ahead and dig your own grave.”
24
Reiko stood in the corridor near the reception chamber, watching General Isogai and the two elders walk out past her. They paid her no attention. She’d just returned from the city, she still wore her peasant clothes, and they didn’t recognize her. She’d come looking for Sano, and the door to the chamber had been open; she’d overheard the whole the conversation between him and the men. Now, sick with horror, she clutched the wall for support.
Sano rushed out of the chamber and bumped into her. “Excuse me,” he said, obviously mistaking her for a maid. Then he took a second, surprised look at her. “Reiko-san? Why are you dressed like that?” He clasped her shoulders. “You’re soaking wet. Where have you been? What’s the matter?”
She gulped, trying to quell the nausea that rose up in her throat. She couldn’t answer. A faint contraction tightened her stomach muscles around the baby inside her.
Dismayed comprehension branded Sano’s features. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough,” Reiko managed to gasp out.
Sano picked her up and carried her to their private chambers, where he laid her on the floor cushions. He held her hand, watching her anxiously while she sucked deep, tremulous breaths and her heart raced with panic that she was going into premature labor. Cold sweat drenched her skin, which was already chilled from the rain that fallen on her while she rode in the kago.
“I wish you hadn’t heard that,” Sano said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” Anguish and self-ha
tred filled Reiko. “I’ve put you in such a terrible position.”
“It’s not so terrible that it’s hopeless,” Sano said, but as though trying to convince himself as well as her. “With friends like General Isogai and the elders, I hardly needed enemies. I’m better off without them.”
Reiko couldn’t believe that, and she saw that neither did Sano. Bereft of allies, accused of treason, tied to a wife accused of a politically sensitive murder, he could number his days in the regime—and in this world—as few. Still, she was outraged as well as hurt by the men’s attitude toward her. “They told you to abandon me! They want me to die so that all their problems will go away!”
“Never mind that,” Sano said firmly. “I told them I’d stand by you, and I will.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. His love and loyalty moved Reiko to such gratitude that tears streamed from her eyes. Yet she couldn’t let him be destroyed for her sake.
“I think you should do what they want,” Reiko said.
Sano stared at her as if she’d gone mad. Then irritation showed on his face. “This is no time to talk nonsense.”
He thought she was testing his commitment to her, trying to wangle reassurances by suggesting that he should give her up. Reiko saw that he was impatient because he didn’t want to play games; he didn’t understand that she was serious.
“I mean it,” she said, withdrawing her hand from his. “You should.”
As Sano exclaimed in angry protest, she said, “Tell Lord Matsudaira that I’ve confessed to murdering Lord Mori. Tell him that I promise to commit seppuku to atone for my disgrace and restore my honor.”
“Never!” Sano’s eyes brimmed with shock. “How can you even think of such a thing?”
“It’s the proper thing for me to do.” During childhood Reiko had been taught that honor, duty, and family were more important than the individual. She’d absorbed society’s values despite her unconventional personality. Now the time had come to abide by them. “All I ask of you is this: Convince the shogun to let me put off my death until after my baby is born.” Her voice trembled; she fought back tears. “Make him understand that the baby is innocent and doesn’t deserve to die.”
“I won’t listen to any more of this. Stop it!” Sano seized her arms. “What in hell has gotten into you?”
She gave him her first reason, which would pain him less than her second: “If you stand by me, I’ll be convicted for Lord Mori’s murder and put to death anyway. You’ll be executed for treason. Your enemies will kill Masahiro so that he can’t grow up and avenge your death. Our whole family will be destroyed.” Breathless with her struggle against her emotions, she concluded, “It’s better that I should die, so the rest of you will be safe.”
Sano’s forehead creased in a frown of utter bewilderment. He glanced around the room, as if searching for the wits he thought had taken leave of Reiko. “Are you doing this because you’ve lost faith in me? Do you think I can’t solve the murder and save us all?”
“Can you?” Daring to hope in spite of her despair, Reiko said, “Did you find out something today?”
“Yes,” Sano said. “I’ve found Lady Nyogo the medium. She admitted that Police Commissioner Hoshina put her up to that fake seance. And I’ve traced the guns that Hirata-sari found. They came from the police arsenal. Hoshina has to be part of a conspiracy to overthrow Lord Matsudaira; he must have framed me to divert attention from himself.”
Reiko spotted the problem. “Hoshina denied it, didn’t he? You didn’t take the news to Lord Matsudaira because you thought it wasn’t likely enough to convince him and clear us. And it’s even less likely now, after you’ve lost your allies.” She read the answer on Sano’s face. Her dashed hopes made her despair all the more painful.
“It’s still evidence against Hoshina,” Sano insisted. “I’m getting closer to beating him. And you’ve been investigating, too, haven’t you?” He gestured at her disguise. “What have you learned?”
Reiko told him. But her theory that Colonel Kubota or the family of the murderer she’d sent to his execution could be responsible for framing her seemed outlandish now. She’d been stretching the limits of possibility to believe it. All she’d gained was more threats from Kubota, the last thing she needed.
“Don’t lose hope,” Sano urged, although he was clearly disappointed that her inquiries had yielded no more salvation than his. “Just be patient. I’ll clear us both, I promise.”
There seemed nothing else to forestall Reiko’s decision to sacrifice herself. “You can’t,” she said bleakly. “At least not me.”
“Why not you?” Sano said, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
Reiko shook her head, compressed her lips. It was too terrible to explain.
Anger infused Sano’s expression. “Whatever is causing you to act like this, I’m not going to tell the shogun you confessed.” His tone was adamant. “I won’t cast you off as though you were extra weight in a lifeboat that’s sinking.”
Desperate because he wouldn’t cooperate, Reiko cried, “Unless you do as I ask, I’ll commit seppuku right now, never mind the baby.” She whipped out the dagger from under her sleeve. “I’ll save two out of four of us while I can!”
She clutched the hilt in both hands. Her whole body and spirit recoiled from her intent to kill not only herself but this child that she’d loved with intense maternal passion since the day she’d known she’d conceived it. She pointed the blade at her belly.
A shout of horror burst from Sano: “No!”
He grabbed the dagger. His hands crushed and wrenched hers, trying to pry the weapon out of them.
“Give it to me!” Reiko screamed. “Leave me alone!”
“This is madness!” Frantic, Sano grappled with her. “You’re going to stop it right now!”
He wrested the dagger away from her, leaped up, and held it out of her reach. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.
“I already told you!” Reiko was distraught, breathless, falling apart.
“Never mind the excuses. Tell me the truth!”
His love shone through the fury in his eyes. Her resolve abruptly shattered. Reiko plunged into a storm of uncontrollable weeping. She gave in to her urge to unburden herself.
“I killed Lord Mori,” she cried. “I deserve to die.”
Shock hit Sano; he opened his mouth and sucked in his breath so hard he almost choked on it. Yet as he watched Reiko sob, he felt less surprise at her confession than a sense that the inevitable had finally come to pass. He realized that he’d been dreading this moment. All his doubts about Reiko’s story, all the warnings signaled by his detective instincts, had prophesied it. All his efforts to believe in Reiko, to excuse evidence against her, had failed. Now he knew what she’d been trying to hide from him.
She was a murderess.
Sano felt none of the satisfaction that he’d felt upon solving other crimes. Dazed by horror, he walked to the cabinet and put the dagger inside so it couldn’t hurt anyone. Then he knelt beside Reiko, who buried her face in her hands and wept.
Those slim, delicate-looking hands had stabbed and castrated Lord Mori.
Yet Sano’s heart balked at accepting what his mind had deduced and his ears had just heard. Reiko looked up at him, her face awash in tears, her eyes filled with dread as she waited for him to speak.
“No. It can’t be,” he said, as vehement in his denial as unconvinced by it.
She fell toward him, head down, hands pressed against the floor. “”I’m sorry,“ she moaned. ”I’m so sorry!“
This was the nightmare of all nightmares. “Why did you do it?” he said, marveling that he should ask her the question that he would ask any other criminal who confessed, as if tying up loose ends were the only thing on his mind.
“I don’t know,” Reiko wailed. “I can’t remember!”
This struck Sano as bizarre, unfathomable. “How could you forget something like that?”
Reiko sat up, clutching he
r head. The kerchief came loose; her hair tumbled down. “There’s something wrong with my mind. I’ve been having spells.”
Sano was more mystified than enlightened. Even though he felt revolted by the prospect of learning the details of Reiko’s crime and exactly what had driven her to it, he had to know the worst. “Suppose you tell me the whole story.”
She wiped her eyes, smoothed her hair, and swallowed sobs. “I’ve been doing meditation, recovering lost memories from that night at Lord Mori’s estate. I’ve had two visions of things that happened. In the first, I was in his room while he was asleep. He woke up and looked at me. He asked me who I was and what I was doing there. Then he was crawling on the floor, dripping blood from cuts all over his body. He begged me for mercy.”
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