Genzo shrugged. He reminded Sano of a reptile, whose few basic, primitive emotions didn’t show much on the outside.
“Fine,” Hirata said. “We’ll skip the interrogation, and the trial, too. I’ll call the executioner.” He turned, as if to leave.
“Wait,” Genzo said in that same flat mutter. “If I tell you, will you spare me?”
He wasn’t the brightest criminal Sano had ever seen, but he realized that Sano and Hirata wanted the information he had and he could use it to bargain for his life.
“Forget it,” Hirata said. “This is your third offense. You’re finished.”
“Let’s listen to what he has to say first.” Sano told Genzo, “If it’s good enough, I can save you.”
Sano and Hirata had often played this game, one badgering and threatening their subject, the other acting kind and conciliatory, working as a team to extract his cooperation. But never had Sano enjoyed the latter role less. Still, in a case as personal to him as this, it was best that Hirata took the former role. Sano wasn’t sure he could play it and resist the urge to kill Genzo before they got the information they needed.
Hirata pretended to be put out by Sano’s leniency. “All right,” he said to Genzo. “Talk.”
A brief smile flexed Genzo’s mean mouth. “I was hired to kill Nakae.”
“Who hired you?” Sano asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Hirata jeered. “Or I’ll kill you and put you out of your stupidity.”
“I never saw him.” Genzo explained, “I was coming out of a teahouse in Nihonbashi. He was sitting in a palanquin, with the windows closed. He hissed at me and asked, did I want to make some money. I said, what do I have to do? He said, kill Nakae.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Hirata said. “People don’t ask strangers on the street to kill people for them.”
Genzo seemed as indifferent to Hirata’s disbelief as he’d been unsurprised by the offer from the man in the palanquin. “This fellow did.”
Odder things had been known to happen. Sano said, “Did he say why he wanted you to kill Nakae?”
“No,” Genzo said, “and I didn’t ask.”
Sano wondered if hired assassins thought they were better off not knowing their employers’ motives. Or maybe curiosity had been left out of Genzo’s personality. “Go on.”
“I told him a thousand koban. He said five hundred. I said—”
“So you haggled over the price,” Hirata said. “Then what?”
“He described Nakae. Big older man, big dark spot on his face. He said to wait for Nakae outside Edo Castle, follow him, and do it. He warned me that Nakae would have bodyguards and I would probably have to kill them, too.”
“All that went on and you never saw who hired you?” Sano said skeptically.
“He stayed inside the palanquin. He opened the window just enough to pass me half the money. We agreed he would leave the rest behind my house after Nakae was dead.” Genzo added with dull rancor, “He never did, the bastard.”
“Because you ambushed the wrong man, you idiot,” Hirata said. “How did that happen?”
Genzo glowered at the insult. “Nakae came out of the castle with another samurai who looked like him. I followed them. They split up.”
Sano recalled the inspector general saying that he and Magistrate Ueda had ridden part of the way home together.
“It was dark,” Genzo said. “I couldn’t see which was Nakae. So I went after the one I thought was him.” He shrugged. “I guessed wrong.”
Sano was so infuriated by Genzo’s mistake, and Genzo’s indifferent attitude, that he couldn’t restrain himself much longer. He had to force himself to speak calmly. “The man who hired you—can you describe his voice?”
“High-class,” Genzo said.
“What about his palanquin?”
“It was black.”
That narrowed the field down to the entire upper samurai society. “Were there any identifying crests on it?”
“Not that I saw.”
Sano marveled that anyone would agree to commit a murder for a person unknown, unseen, and of dubious trustworthiness. But of course the money had been a big incentive. “What did his bearers look like?”
“I don’t remember,” Genzo said, bored. “Who notices bearers?”
“Can you think of anything you did notice that might help us identify the man in the palanquin?”
“No.”
Not even to save his life, Sano thought. In addition to his other sins, Genzo was a deplorably bad witness. Sano turned to Hirata. “We’re finished here.”
“I agree.” Hirata looked as fed up with Genzo as Sano was. He opened the door of the cell. He and Sano started to walk out.
“Hey,” Genzo called in a voice louder than his usual mutter. “Do I get to stay alive?”
“No,” Sano said.
Disbelief pricked up Genzo’s flat eyelids. “But you promised.”
“No, I didn’t,” Sano said. “Next time, you should be more careful about who you do business with. Except there isn’t going to be a next time.”
“That’s not fair!” It was as if the reptile had basked in the sun long enough to bring its cold blood to a boil. Temper animated his eyes, clenched his fists, and revealed the brute who’d savaged Magistrate Ueda for a few pieces of gold.
“You may not think it’s fair,” Sano said, “but it’s justice.”
* * *
“DO YOU THINK Genzo was telling the truth?” Hirata asked Sano as they rode across the bridge that spanned the canal outside Edo Jail.
“Yes,” Sano said. “He hasn’t the imagination to make up that story.”
“So do I. How should we go about identifying the man in the palanquin?”
“We could start at the teahouse where Genzo met him. Maybe someone there saw him even though Genzo didn’t. Or saw where he went after he and Genzo made their deal.”
“Or can give us a better description of the palanquin and the bearers.” Hirata glanced around at the shacks that lined the road through the slums as he said, “If the Hosokawa people wanted to kill Inspector General Nakae, wouldn’t they handle it themselves? Why take a chance on hiring a stranger who could and did botch the job?”
“Whoever hired Genzo didn’t want the blood on their own hands. But you’re right, the whole assassination attempt smacks of incompetence.”
“That would exonerate Yanagisawa,” Hirata pointed out.
“That and the fact that he wouldn’t have wanted Nakae killed. Nakae is his crony.”
“There’s still the question of how anyone besides Yanagisawa and the judges and you could have known Nakae’s position on the vendetta,” Hirata said. “But maybe Nakae let his opinion be known before he was appointed to the court. Or maybe it was a personal enemy of his who wanted him dead, and the attack had nothing to do with the case.”
The inspector general had plenty of enemies, but Sano still believed that the attack and the case were connected. Sano followed Hirata’s gaze to a group of men huddled around a bonfire. Hirata was looking for his stalkers, Sano thought.
“Well, there are still other suspects besides the forty-seven rōnin and the Hosokawa clan,” Sano said. “Before we try to pick up the palanquin man’s trail, let’s hear what my wife has to say about Ukihashi, Lady Asano, and Okaru. She was supposed to talk to them today.”
* * *
WHEN SANO AND Hirata arrived at home, Reiko hurried to meet them while they were hanging their swords in the entryway. “I’m so glad you’re back!” She sparkled with excitement. “I must tell you what I’ve learned!”
While she helped Sano remove his coat, while she served him and Hirata hot tea in the private quarters, Reiko related the story she’d heard from Ukihashi and Lady Asano. She was breathless by the time she finished. Sano and Hirata were thunderstruck.
“So that’s why Lord Asano attacked Kira,” Sano said. The story revealed what Kira’s
subordinates must have known about Kira but had kept hidden, the whale Sano had sensed beneath the water.
“I knew it had to be more than just because Kira harassed him,” Hirata said, “but I never imagined this.”
Sano shook his head in disgust as he envisioned the scene that Reiko had described—the forced sex between Lord Asano and Ukihashi, with Kira watching in ugly, perverted pleasure and Lady Asano in agony. “Kira made victims of them all.”
“Do you think this will save the forty-seven rōnin?” Reiko asked, her voice colored by doubt as to whether they should be saved.
“I think Lord Asano had a valid reason for attacking Kira,” Sano said. “I also think Kira should have been punished for his role in their feud and that since the government didn’t punish him, it’s good that someone else did. But it’s not up to me. The supreme court will decide whether Kira’s behavior justified forty-seven rōnin breaking the law and murdering Kira.”
Reiko’s sparkle dimmed. “Then even though we know the truth behind the incident in the Corridor of Pines, it might not change anything.”
“It might. It’s an extenuating circumstance,” Sano pointed out. “And there may be others we haven’t discovered yet.”
“Such as the real reason why the forty-seven rōnin took so long to take revenge on Kira,” Hirata said, “and why they ‘waited for orders’ afterward.”
“But we’ve made progress on one front,” Sano said. “Hirata-san caught the man who attacked your father.”
Reiko exclaimed, “Who is it? Why did he do it? I want to see him!”
If he let her at Genzo, they wouldn’t need an executioner, Sano thought. “Maybe later.” He told Reiko about his and Hirata’s interview with Genzo.
“But who was the man in the palanquin?” Reiko asked, so agitated she couldn’t sit still. “Why did he want to kill Inspector General Nakae?”
“I have a hunch that once we have the answers to those questions, they’ll help us bring your father’s attacker to justice,” Sano said, “and they’ll put the vendetta in a different light.”
“But how do we find them?” Reiko asked.
“You’ve discovered a new lead,” Sano said. “Let’s follow it and see where it goes.”
33
REIKO AND UKIHASHI rode in a palanquin up the highway toward the Hosokawa estate, escorted by Sano, Hirata, and troops. Ukihashi wore a rich burgundy padded silk coat over a moss-green silk kimono with pine boughs embroidered around the hem, and high-soled black lacquer sandals. Her hair was brushed into a sleek roll anchored with lacquer combs. Finished off with white powder and red rouge, she was the beautiful samurai lady she’d once been.
The new clothes and accessories were gifts from Reiko, brought when she’d returned to Ukihashi and told her they were going on this trip. Ukihashi had balked at first, even though she was overjoyed by the thought of seeing her son.
“How can I face my husband?” she’d cried. “After what I did?”
“You must,” Reiko said. Sano had decided that bringing Ukihashi and Oishi together was crucial to the investigation.
Given no choice, Ukihashi had let Reiko help her fix herself up. She wanted to look good for the husband she still loved in spite of her anger at him for dragging their son into an illegal vendetta. Now Ukihashi grew nervous as she and Reiko drew closer to their destination.
“Don’t bite your lips,” Reiko said gently. “You’re chewing off the rouge.”
Ukihashi gnawed her fingernails instead. “What if Oishi won’t see me?”
Reiko recalled the disastrous trip with Okaru, but she said, “He will.” Sano wouldn’t give Oishi the option of refusing. “He loves you. He said so.”
“What will I say to him?”
“Just tell him what you told me about Kira.”
“Will it help Oishi and Chikara?”
“My husband thinks it’s the only thing that can,” Reiko said, although when Sano had broached his plan, he’d said he couldn’t predict the results.
The procession arrived at the Hosokawa estate. Reiko’s own anxiety mounted as she and Ukihashi climbed out of the palanquin. Sano escorted them through the gate. Hirata went ahead to fetch Oishi and Chikara. Reiko walked beside Ukihashi. The woman ignored the Hosokawa troops staring at her while she moved up the steps to the mansion. She looked straight ahead, as if her world had narrowed to the path that led to her husband and son. Emotions worked her face, pulling it into a joyous smile one moment, a mask of fear the next.
Sano brought Reiko and Ukihashi to a reception chamber. Ukihashi stood rigid, her clasped hands twisting inside her sleeves, all her attention focused on the door. Hirata brought in Oishi and Chikara, who was a younger, softer version of Oishi. When father and son caught sight of Ukihashi, their faces went blank with surprise.
Ukihashi uttered a sob wrenched from her depths. “Chikara!”
“Mother?” the young man said.
He rushed to her as she rushed to him, as if an invisible cord that had joined them since his birth had snapped them together. Ukihashi clung fiercely to Chikara. Tears streamed down her face while she murmured, “How tall you are! You’re a man now.”
Chikara sobbed against her shoulder like a child. Reiko felt her own eyes sting. She looked at Oishi. His ferocity had dropped away like armor discarded after a battle. While he watched his wife, his face was a naked display of anguish and yearning. The thunder deity had become human.
Chikara stepped out of Ukihashi’s embrace. Ukihashi trailed her fingers down his arms, reluctant to let him go. Turning to Oishi, she looked blinded, dazzled, like a woman who has been living in a dark cave and sees the sun for the first time. The emotion on Oishi’s face deepened. Chikara backed away from his parents. Reiko envisioned their past as a river running between them, full of turbulent rapids, shoals, and whirlpools.
Ukihashi fell to her knees. “Husband, I’ve done a terrible thing. I dishonored our marriage. I was unfaithful to you.” She was sobbing so hard she could barely gasp out the words. “It was with Lord Asano.”
“Mother,” Chikara said, horror-stricken.
Reiko remembered how Oishi had violently spurned his mistress. Would he spurn Ukihashi now, because of her confession?
Oishi gazed tenderly down at his wife. He knelt before her and spoke in a gruff, abashed voice. “I know.”
Reiko and Sano looked at each other, amazed. They’d thought the story about Ukihashi and Lord Asano would be news to Oishi, but it wasn’t.
“You do?” Ukihashi raised streaming, bewildered eyes to her husband. “But how?”
Oishi exhaled; he spoke with resignation. “You’ve made a clean breast. I owe it to you to do the same.”
1701 April
DURING ANOTHER ETIQUETTE lesson, Kira mocked Lord Asano so cruelly that Lord Asano broke down. Oishi took Lord Asano home, put him to bed, then returned to Edo Castle and accosted Kira. “Start behaving respectfully toward my master, or I will destroy you!”
“Before you take action against me, listen to a bit of advice: Don’t waste your loyalty on Lord Asano.” Kira smiled maliciously. “He’s having an affair with your wife.”
Oishi was furious. “You’re lying, you evil old crow.”
Kira shrugged daintily. “They’re meeting tomorrow afternoon, at the River Inn in Nihonbashi. Rent the room on the western end. There’s a crack in the wall. See for yourself.”
Oishi didn’t believe Kira. Lord Asano had never taken a woman who belonged to a friend. But Kira had planted a seed of suspicion in Oishi’s mind. The next day Oishi went to the inn, rented the room, and waited, peering out the window.
Ukihashi and Lord Asano arrived separately. Each sneaked into the room next door. Oishi’s heart dropped. Kira was right: His master and his wife were deceiving him. He spied on them through the crack while they made love. Consumed by jealousy, rage, and hurt, he didn’t think to wonder how Kira knew about the tryst and the crack in the wall. And the next day, Lord Asano attacked
Kira in the Corridor of Pines.
* * *
“THAT’S WHY I treated you so badly,” Oishi said to Ukihashi as they sat in the reception room of the Hosokawa estate. Intent on each other, they’d forgotten that Sano, Reiko, and Hirata were present. They seemed unaware of their son, who stared at them in dismay. “I thought the two people I loved the most had betrayed me. That’s why I got drunk and quarreled with you, for all those months before I decided I could never forgive you and I had to leave you. That’s why I divorced you and took a mistress. That’s why I didn’t bother avenging Lord Asano at first. I hated him. I was glad he died.”
“Father, please don’t say any more!” Chikara exclaimed.
Oishi regarded him with sorrowful affection. “There have been too many secrets. They’ve caused too much suffering. I mustn’t keep them any longer.”
“But I tried to protect you!” Chikara was aghast. “That story I told Sano-san, it was to make you look good.”
“You lied for me,” Oishi said. “So did our comrades, when they took it upon themselves to tell contradicting stories and confuse Sano-san. They guessed that I had something to hide, and they helped me hide it even though they didn’t know what it was. I appreciate their loyalty, and yours, my son. But the time for lying is past.”
Sano was amazed that his scheme had worked, the question of what was true and false in the stories had been answered, and the mystery of why the revenge had taken so long was solved. But what had finally triggered the vendetta?
“I was mean to you because I felt so guilty about Lord Asano. I’m sorry.” Ukihashi wept. “Can you forgive me?”
Oishi held her hands. “I already have.”
Sano glanced at Reiko. She dabbed her eyes, moved by the tender scene. Sano himself was relieved that Oishi didn’t hold the adultery against Ukihashi anymore. He pitied Oishi, who was about to learn that he never should have blamed or punished his wife.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Ukihashi said. “Kira forced me. He set up the meeting between me and Lord Asano. He made us go through with it. He threatened us.”
The Ronin's Mistress: A Novel (Sano Ichiro Novels) Page 27
