Sano Ichiro 8 The Dragon's King Palace (2003)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “Did Police Commissioner Hoshina already question you?” Sano asked Chizuru.

  “He did.” Disapprobation compressed Chizuru’s mouth. “He accused Suiren of conspiring in the kidnapping.”

  “You don’t believe she did?” Sano said.

  “It’s not my place to have ideas that contradict those of my superiors,” Chizuru said primly.

  But Sano knew that an independent mind lurked under her discretion. “I daresay you know the women here better than Hoshina or anyone else does. Tell me what you think.”

  Emboldened, Chizuru said, “Suiren has attended Lady Keisho-in for more than thirty years. She’s devoted to her mistress. And she’s a kind, decent woman. The idea that she would help criminals kill her comrades and kidnap somebody is ridiculous.” Chizuru spoke with outright indignation.

  Sano trusted her opinion more than he did Hoshina’s. The theory that Suiren had told the Dragon King about the trip, and he’d spared her life as a reward, lost credibility for Sano. It was just like Hoshina to incriminate a woman who couldn’t speak for herself, despite the lack of evidence against her, just so his investigation would appear to be making progress!

  “This is where Suiren lives,” Chizuru said, leading Sano into a small chamber next to Lady Keisho-in’s quarters.

  The chamber was sparsely furnished with a lantern, a cabinet, and a low table that held a butsudan—a Buddhist altar comprised of a wooden cupboard that housed a sacred scripture. Around the butsudan sat incense burners and prayer books.

  “She’s very religious,” Chizuru said. “She plans to enter a convent when she’s too old to work.”

  Sano opened the cabinet and searched through the contents. These included bedding, a comb and brush, an inexpensive writing case, and garments as plain as nuns’ habits. He found nothing to counter Suiren’s good reputation.

  “Did you notice anything unusual about her before the trip?” he asked, closing the cabinet door.

  “She was the same as always—calm, cheerful, and efficient,” said Chizuru, “even though she had to supervise Lady Keisho-in’s packing, and the sudden trip caused a big upheaval.”

  “Did she go out to see anyone or send any messages before they left Edo?” Sano said.

  “Police Commissioner Hoshina asked me that question, and I’ll give you the same answer I gave him. Suiren didn’t go out. She was too busy. And she didn’t send any messages. I know because I inspect all messages from the Large Interior.”

  It seemed that Suiren couldn’t have communicated with the kidnappers, but Sano must explore every facet of her life before he could exonerate her. “Who is her family?”

  Madam Chizuru named a clan that had served the Tokugawa for generations and lived on one of the shogun’s distant estates. “She never sees her family. Her duties always kept her in Edo.”

  “Does she have any friends in town?” Sano said, still considering the possibility that the maid had somehow fallen in with a criminal who had forced her to report on Lady Keisho-in’s movements to him and then kidnapped the women.

  “Not that I’m aware of. Her whole life is spent here.” Chizuru’s gesture encompassed the Large Interior. “I doubt she even knows anyone outside the castle.”

  Suiren was looking more and more unlikely an accomplice in the crime, Sano thought. Perhaps there was no accomplice, and the Dragon King had learned about the trip from seeing Lady Keisho-in’s procession, or from gossip. Yet Sano couldn’t dismiss the accomplice theory just because his investigation of one suspect had come to nothing and he distrusted the man who’d invented the theory. The accomplice could be a palace official, guard, or servant—one of hundreds of people who’d known about the trip before the women left Edo. It could even be a member of Sano’s household, where everyone had known Reiko and Midori were going to Mount Fuji with Lady Keisho-in. Sano was disturbed to think that a retainer or servant of his might have betrayed his trust. The prospect of investigating everyone daunted him, especially because the accomplice might not even exist.

  But what other avenue of inquiry did Sano have that hadn’t already led him to a dead end? He wouldn’t know whether the Kii clan harbored any suspects better than the merchant Naraya until Chamberlain Yanagisawa told him. He might as well search for the accomplice. And he might as well continue here in the Large Interior, starting with the other people who’d accompanied the shogun’s mother.

  “Show me the rooms of all the women in Lady Keisho-in’s entourage,” Sano told Madam Chizuru.

  They began with the ladies-in-waiting. Maybe Suiren had lived like a nun, but Sano discovered that these women hadn’t. In their rooms he found gaudy clothing, hair ornaments, makeup, tobacco pipes, playing cards, musical instruments, and sake jars. He also found erotic pictures and carved jade phalluses apparently used for self-pleasure. Sano felt ashamed to discover the secrets of the dead women, especially since Madam Chizuru vouched for the good character of each. And he found nothing to indicate that they’d collaborated with the criminal who’d abducted their mistress. He believed they were all innocent victims, and his opinion of Hoshina’s theory sank lower. After replacing their possessions in the cabinets, he turned to Chizuru.

  “I’ll inspect the maids’ quarters now,” he said.

  The maids lived crowded into a communal room in a separate wing of the Large Interior. While Chizuru watched from the doorway, Sano went through the motions of examining the few cheap garments and trinkets left in the plain wooden cupboards by the maids killed during the massacre. As he pulled a blue-and-white striped kimono from a drawer, something jingled. He put his hand into the sleeve of the garment and removed a cloth pouch tied with a drawstring. He emptied the pouch into his hand. Five gold coins gleamed up at him.

  “Who owned this?” he asked, holding up the kimono for Chizuru to see.

  “That belonged to Lady Keisho-in’s youngest maid,” Chizuru said. “Her name was Mariko.” Her tone combined curiosity with apprehension. “What have you found?”

  Sano showed her the coins. “How did Mariko come to have these?”

  “I don’t know.” A troubled expression stole over Chizuru’s face. “The servants get paid in coppers, not gold. It would have taken years for Mariko to earn that much money, and she’d only worked here six months.”

  “Where else might she have gotten the money?” Sano asked.

  Chizuru shook her head. “Mariko came from a poor family.”

  A thrill of excitation reverberated through Sano as Hoshina’s theory gained new credence. Sano conjectured that the money was a bribe from th Dragon King, and Mariko his spy who’d informed him about Lady Keisho-in’s trip. Maybe she’d hidden the coins before she’d left because she didn’t want to risk losing them or having them stolen on the highway. Maybe the Dragon King had killed her with the rest of the entourage to prevent her from ever exposing him.

  Maybe she hadn’t known how he’d meant to use the information she’d given him, or that she would never return to spend her blood money. And Hoshina’s theory might prove correct even if he’d mis-identified the Dragon King’s accomplice. Maybe Sano owed Hoshina more respect than he’d paid him.

  “Did Mariko go out of the castle after Lady Keisho-in announced her plans for the trip?” Sano said.

  “As a matter of fact, she did.” Chizuru spoke hesitantly, and Sano could see her thoughts following the same direction as his. “She asked permission to take the evening off, and I granted it.”

  “Why did you?” Sano knew that servants were traditionally allowed two days off work per year—one during the eighth month, and the other during the twelfth. The night before the trip qualified as neither holiday.

  “Mariko said she wanted to visit her mother, who was very ill and might die while she was away,” Chizuru explained. “I felt sorry for her, so I agreed.” Horror ascended in Chizuru’s intelligent eyes. “Do you think she went to tell the kidnappers about the trip instead of visiting her mother? She’d always been an honest, dutiful g
irl. I had no reason to think she was lying. If I’d suspected, I never would have let her go.” The thought that she’d inadvertently abetted the crime caused Chizuru to lose her poise for the first time Sano had ever seen. She looked flustered and miserable.

  “Maybe she didn’t lie, and she was innocent,” Sano said, tempering his suspicion that Mariko had done exactly as Chizuru suggested. “But I need to know where else she might have gone besides her mother’s house.”

  Chizuru made a gesture that indicated her willingness to do whatever possible to atone for the wrong she feared she’d done. “I can show you the records, if you’ll come with me.”

  She took Sano to a tiny cell near the laundry courtyard and opened a ledger that contained dossiers on everyone who lived in the Large Interior. “That’s odd,” she said, as her finger traced the lines of characters beneath Mariko’s name. “The metsuke usually investigates all the palace servants and lists people who vouched for them. But the only information on Mariko is her mother’s name and place of residence: ‘Yuka, Umbrella-maker’s Street, Nihonbashi.’ ”

  Sano’s suspicions about the maid deepened. How had she obtained employment here without references? How could the Dragon King have planted a spy in the innermost heart of the Tokugawa regime? A disturbing possibility that had been lurking in the back of Sano’s mind now emerged into the forefront. Was the Dragon King someone in the regime, who could bypass rules while plotting against the shogun?

  Innate caution warned Sano against jumping to premature conclusions and voicing this idea that would wreak havoc in the court. First he must determine whether Mariko had indeed been the kidnapper’s accomplice.

  “We’ll ask the other women if they know where Mariko went that night,” Sano said.

  But when he and Chizuru questioned the maids, concubines, and ladies-in-waiting, they found that Mariko hadn’t confided her plans to anyone. Everyone who’d known she had permission to leave the castle had believed her story about her sick mother.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Chizuru said unhappily as she escorted Sano out of the Large Interior.

  “You did help. You’ve shown me where to go next,” Sano said. “Mariko’s mother may have information about her daughter that could lead me to the kidnappers.”

  “The door to the tower prison creaked open, and in strode two guards. Keisho-in and Lady Yanagisawa uttered startled exclamations; Midori squealed. Reiko experienced the frightening conviction that the men had come for her again, as she’d anticipated they would after they’d brought her back from the Dragon King’s castle more than an hour ago. She and the other women cowered together, braced for some new horror.

  But the men just herded them into a corner and stood watch over them. Six more guards entered. They mopped the floor, carried out the brimming waste buckets, and returned them emptied and cleaned, while the women watched in amazement. They brought bedding, tatami to cover the floor, hot water in a basin, and cloths for washing. They set out bowls of dried fish, pickled vegetables, fruits, and eggs, and pots of rice and tea, then departed the room, securing the door behind them.

  Keisho-in immediately fell upon the food, wolfing it down with sloppy abandon. “At last, they’ve decided to show me some proper respect,” she said. “It’s about time.”

  “I think there’s another reason for their generosity,” Midori said with a smile at Reiko. “You must have made a good impression on their leader.”

  Lady Yanagisawa just eyed Reiko in speculative silence. Reiko turned away from her friends, bent over the basin, and splashed water on her face, wishing she could cleanse away the fearsome impression the kidnappers’ leader had made on her. The other women didn’t know what had happened between her and their captor because she hadn’t said; she didn’t want to upset Midori or spur Keisho-in into another fit of rage. All she’d told them was that the man who called himself the Dragon King had given her food and not hurt her. She’d assured them that they were in no immediate danger, although the truth was that meeting the Dragon King had changed her own situation from bad to worse.

  She looked at the cleaned room, and the furnishings and food the guards had brought. The Dragon King was wooing her with physical comforts. Reiko imagined what payment he expected. She shuddered, pressing a cloth over her face. But although she hated that she’d attracted an evil, unwanted admirer, she began to perceive that the Dragon King’s attraction to her was a vulnerability that she could perhaps exploit to her advantage. She lowered the cloth from her face as ideas raced and schemes bred in her mind.

  A gentle touch on her arm startled Reiko. She turned and saw Lady Yanagisawa kneeling beside her.

  “There’s more to the story of what passed between you and the Dragon King ... is there not?” Lady Yanagisawa whispered.

  Reiko didn’t want to confide in the woman and encourage intimacy between them. But she owed Lady Yanagisawa for aiding the escape attempt and risking her own life. And Reiko needed to discuss her fears and schemes with someone.

  She glanced at the other women, nodded covertly to Lady Yanagisawa, and whispered back, “I’ll tell you later, when they’re asleep.”

  * * *

  20

  Within hours after Sano had reported to him on the suspects Hoshina had implicated that morning, Chamberlain Yanagisawa rode down the main boulevard of the daimyo district with his entourage of bodyguards. The crowds of mounted and strolling samurai parted to make way for him. He and his entourage halted outside an estate whose double-roofed gate displayed the circular crest of the Kii clan. No sooner had they alit from their horses, than the sentries opened the portals for them.

  “Good afternoon, Honorable Chamberlain,” the sentries chorused, bowing.

  Yanagisawa’s high rank gave him the right to walk into almost any house, and he was especially confident of a warm welcome here. He strode into a courtyard, where soldiers loitered and a guard captain greeted him.

  “Lord Kii is in the martial arts training ground,” said the guard captain. “May I please escort you?”

  “Never mind,” Yanagisawa said. “I know the way.”

  As he and his men marched past the mansion’s buildings, he put to use a lifetime of practice at hiding his emotions. His face was serene and his manner dignified, while his spirit writhed in agony, desperation, and terror. He didn’t expect trouble from his impending talk with Lord Kii, daimyo of Sendai Province and head of the clan that Sano had named as a suspect in the kidnapping. All his woe centered around Hoshina.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t expunge the awful memory of Hoshina begging for his life. He couldn’t deny his guilt or shame at refusing to protect Hoshina, or the threat that had turned his own existence into a nightmare. He must save Hoshina, and not only because of his love for the man. Losing Hoshina and their partnership would weaken him politically, rendering him vulnerable to his foes, who included Lord Matsudaira. Should he lose the shogun’s favor, they would hasten to attack him. His need to save Hoshina entwined with the absolute necessity of rescuing Lady Keisho-in and maintaining his power. Yanagisawa hoped that a talk with Lord Kii would further at least one of these purposes.

  Lord Kii’s martial arts training ground was a large, rectangular field, surrounded by stables and full of samurai. Two armies, differentiated by colored flags worn on poles attached to their backs, fought a mock battle. The soldiers charged on horseback across the ground and struck at one another with wooden practice swords. Dust flew and war-whoops rang out. Commanders shouted orders; signalers blew conch trumpets. Entering the ground, Yanagisawa spied Lord Kii.

  The daimyo, clad in armor and a helmet crowned with golden horns, watched from astride his horse, amid his retainers, at one end of the field. His armor added bulk to his massive physique. As Yanagisawa gestured for his entourage to wait and approached Lord Kii, the daimyo turned toward him. An iron mask with a snarling mouth shielded his face. He raised a leather-gloved hand to his armies.

  “Stop!” he bellowed. />
  The battle and noise ceased. The armies separated, lining up in ranks as Lord Kii dismounted and walked over to meet Yanagisawa. Lord Kii removed his helmet and mask, revealing a ruddy, smiling face that was shaped like a pumpkin and youthful despite his sixty years. Crinkles around his eyes, and a gap between his front teeth, increased his amiable appearance. Despite his size, his position as one of Japan’s most powerful daimyo, and his enthusiasm for military training, Lord Kii was a meek, gentle-natured man.

  “Welcome, Honorable Chamberlain,” he said. He and all his troops bowed. “What a privilege it is to have you here.”

  “The privilege is mine,” Yanagisawa said, pretending he hadn’t just exercised his right to command Lord Kii’s attention whenever he wanted. “Please don’t interrupt your business on my account.”

  Lord Kii signaled his troops, and the battle resumed. His retainers moved away to give him and Yanagisawa privacy to talk. “If I’d known you wanted to see me, I’d have come to you,” Lord Kii said with his usual eagerness to please. “But I’m glad of this chance to thank you again for your hospitality at the banquet seven nights ago.”

  “An evening’s entertainment is the least I can give such a good friend as you,” Yanagisawa said.

  Over the years he’d given Lord Kii many gifts and favors, courting his allegiance. The old daimyo had repaid Yanagisawa by pledging him military support if and when needed. Lord Kii, though none too bright, knew how much authority Yanagisawa had over the bakufu. Yanagisawa had easily convinced Lord Kii that together they would come out on top of any power struggle. Furthermore, Lord Kii was too afraid of Yanagisawa to refuse him anything. The daimyo was the perfect ally: He had wealth, lands, and troops, but no ambition of his own. A born follower, he now belonged to Yanagisawa.