“I do,” Sano said, uncertain whether to be thankful that Yanagisawa had changed the subject, or fearful of what his former enemy had in store for him. “I’ve identified another potential suspect. It’s Treasury Minister Nitta Monzaemon.”
The shogun exclaimed in surprise; the elders frowned, while Chamberlain Yanagisawa sat alert. As Sano told of Nitta’s history with Lady Wisteria and Lord Mitsuyoshi, his presence in the ageya at the time of the murder, and his suspicious departure, Hoshina narrowed his eyes. Apparently, the story was news to him, and he disliked that Sano had beat him to it.
“Nitta-san has served me well, and I never doubted his, ahh, loyalty to my clan. That he might have, ahh, killed my cousin is unthinkable!” The shogun’s skepticism immediately turned to anger. “If he did, he shall die for his treason.”
The reminder that a taint of suspicion could negate years of faithful service poisoned the air. Hoshina said to Sano, “How did you learn about the treasury minister?”
“From a confidential informant,” Sano said, keeping his promise to Senior Elder Makino.
Hoshina glanced at Yanagisawa. When Yanagisawa didn’t speak, a shadow of bafflement crossed Hoshina’s face. Evidently, Hoshina couldn’t fathom the chamberlain’s mood any better than could Sano.
“Has Nitta been questioned?” Hoshina spoke cautiously, as if now less certain of victory over Sano without his lover’s backing.
“I’ve sent troops to his estate.” Sano had done this before coming to the palace. “If Nitta is there, he’ll be under house arrest by now. If he’s not, my men will send search parties after him. I’ll interrogate him as soon as possible.”
The shogun nodded in approbation, but Hoshina compressed his lips, clearly displeased by Sano’s efficiency.
“What other plans have you, Sōsakan Sano?” Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s bland manner gave no hint of what lay underneath.
While Sano was loath to reveal his strategy to Hoshina, he couldn’t refuse to answer. “I’ll call on the family and associates of Lord Mitsuyoshi and ask whether he had any enemies, and what he might have done to make someone want him dead.”
Tokugawa Tsunayoshi lurched forward off his bed. “Lord Mitsuyoshi was a fine, honorable young man, beloved by all. He never, ahh, wronged anyone in his life!” The shogun sputtered in outrage; droplets of saliva flew from his mouth. “Are you saying you would, ahh, blame him for his own death?”
“Of course not, Your Excellency,” Sano said, horrified that what he considered basic detective procedure had been misinterpreted. “I just think Lord Mitsuyoshi’s background could provide valuable clues that we can’t afford to overlook.”
“Well, we shall overlook them because, I, ahh, won’t let you cast aspersion upon Lord Mitsuyoshi.” The shogun’s red eyes smoldered at Sano. “And you shall not, ahh, bother his family with questions during their time of mourning.”
The elders looked perturbed, as did Hoshina: He realized that the shogun’s pronouncement applied to him, too. Yanagisawa alone remained nonchalant. Sano’s heart plummeted as he saw an entire avenue of inquiry closed to him.
“But Your Excellency, unless we gather all possible clues, we may never find the killer,” he said.
A lethal combination of fury and peevishness darkened Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s expression. “Do you dare suggest that the, ahh, killer is to be found within my clan?”
“No, Your Excellency,” Sano said hastily, although experience had taught him that the murderer was often a person close to the victim. “A thousand pardons; I meant no offense.”
“Well, just, ahh, remember that you are forbidden to investigate Lord Mitsuyoshi or intrude upon the person or property of any other Tokugawa clan member. You will therefore confine your detection to other people and places.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.” Sano surrendered with regret.
“You will also stop dallying and find my cousin’s killer at once, or suffer the consequences!”
Sano experienced an antipathy so strong it bordered on hatred for the shogun. That all his efforts counted for nothing in the view of his lord! No matter how many cases he solved, any failure would doom him. He didn’t expect gratitude or encouragement, but the Black Lotus case had diminished his tolerance toward the shogun’s constant criticism and threats. He must get away before he said something regrettable, or anything worse happened.
“Your Excellency, may I speak?” Hoshina said.
The shogun nodded indifferently as the doctors massaged pressure points on his limbs.
“Perhaps the sōsakan-sama has a particular reason for conducting his investigation in such a questionable fashion.” Hoshina’s eyes sighted on Sano like gun barrels. “Perhaps he would cast suspicion on the Tokugawa clan to protect himself.”
“That’s a lie,” Sano burst out, shocked and infuriated that Hoshina had virtually accused him of the murder. The room had gone still, the faces turned to him frozen in surprise. Goaded into blunt speech, Sano said, “Perhaps you wish to sabotage me so that I won’t discover that you were involved in the crime.”
Hoshina’s mouth curved in a satisfied smile, though he must know how dangerous was the game he played. Turning to Yanagisawa, he said, “Honorable Chamberlain, what do you think?”
Horror flooded Sano as he saw that Hoshina intended to break the truce between Sano and Yanagisawa by manipulating the chamberlain into taking sides in his war against Sano. A suspenseful hush quieted the room while the chamberlain pondered Sano and Hoshina, his expression unreadable.
Tokugawa Tsunayoshi suddenly clutched his chest and moaned, “I think I shall die unless my cousin’s death is soon avenged!”
Dull-witted and self-absorbed, he’d missed the meaning of Sano and Hoshina’s interchange. Spasms racked his body as the doctors laid him down on the bed. Hoshina frowned, his ploy thwarted; but Sano exhaled in gratitude for the distraction. The elders conversed in low, urgent tones.
“What if His Excellency does die?” “With the heir apparent dead, we can expect conflict over the succession.” “If the bakufu and the daimyo form factions, there will be a battle.” The elders turned in unison to Sano, their unspoken meaning clear: He had better avenge Lord Mitsuyoshi’s death soon, or take the blame for the shogun’s death and civil war.
Chamberlain Yanagisawa rose and calmly announced, “I think this meeting is over.”
But Sano knew that his troubles had only begun.
Reiko sat in her parlor, wrapped in a quilt that spread over the square frame of a charcoal brazier. The chilly mansion creaked; distant temple bells heralded midnight. The servants had retired for the evening, and Reiko had put Masahiro to bed long ago. Now she waited, alone and anxious, in the light of the lantern she kept burning for Sano. Perhaps this was too soon after the Black Lotus case to ask him for a part in an investigation, and he would justify his refusal by mentioning her past faults. If another quarrel arose, reconciliation might be impossible this time.
The front door opened, and Reiko heard clattering in the entryway as Sano hung his swords on racks. Hastily she threw off the quilt and rose, her heartbeat accelerating. His footsteps padded down the corridor, and he entered the parlor.
“Hello,” he said. Exhaustion shadowed his face; his proud posture seemed burdened by worry. “You didn’t need to wait up for me.”
“Yes, well. I wanted to.” Reiko moved forward and helped him remove his cloak. Her smile felt stiff. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to be back.”
They embraced tentatively, the way they did nowadays—as though they considered each other too fragile to withstand much affection. “You’re cold,” Reiko said, feeling the winter on him. “Sit down. I’ll make you warm.”
He sat, and she wrapped him in the quilt, then draped it over the brazier. “That’s better,” Sano said. “Thank you.”
Reiko wished she could as easily thaw the spiritual coldness that surrounded them. “Are you hungry? Would you like dinner?
”
“Yes. Please. If it’s not too much trouble.”
This was typical of their interactions during the last three months. They were so polite to each other, so careful not to impose nor offend. Even their lovemaking was cautious, without joy. Sadness swelled in Reiko as she recalled their past intimate companionship. She went to the kitchen to warm the miso soup and rice she’d prepared for Sano, then carried the food and a pot of tea on a tray into the parlor, where she heated sake and cooked fish on a brazier.
Sano courteously thanked her for the meal. As he ate, she knelt opposite him. Neither of them acknowledged the fact that she’d never cooked for him until after the Black Lotus case. Reiko had always disliked domestic chores, but they were a way to placate Sano.
“How is Masahiro?” Sano said.
“He’s fine. He’s in bed, asleep.”
Nights were the most difficult, because during the day, Masahiro filled the empty space once occupied by their work. They seemed to have nothing left in common except their son, and therefore nothing to share when he was absent.
“What did you do today?” Sano said.
Reiko could tell that his mind was on the events of his own day, and she wanted to ask about the investigation, but fear held her back. “Lady Keisho-in had a party. I met Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s wife and daughter there.”
“Did you?” Sano regarded her with scant but genuine curiosity. “What are they like?”
Describing Lady Yanagisawa and Kikuko, and her encounter with them, Reiko experienced more misgivings about her new friendship. “Do you think I should have tried to discourage Lady Yanagisawa?” she said.
She’d always done as she pleased, and enjoyed her independence, but now she was always seeking approval from Sano. He frowned, and she dreaded a reprimand. Then Sano’s frown dissolved into a weary, harassed expression, as though he lacked the energy for another problem besides the ones he had.
“It would have been worse to snub Lady Yanagisawa,” he said, “and you couldn’t have refused to let her visit you without giving offense. And we mustn’t offend a member of the chamberlain’s family just now.
“Oh? Why not now, in particular?” Reiko said.
Sano told her about the crime scene, his inquiries in Yoshiwara, and the two suspects. Reiko listened eagerly, welcoming the start of renewed communication. How much she longed for a part in this challenging case! Still, she hesitated to ask. Then Sano described how Police Commissioner Hoshina had interfered with his investigation and threatened his truce with Chamberlain Yanagisawa.
“The shogun threatened to punish me, and die himself, if I don’t solve this case fast enough,” Sano finished.
“How unfortunate.” Yet although Reiko was truly appalled, her hope flared. That things were this bad meant Sano needed all the assistance he could get. Opportunity beckoned. She drew a deep breath of courage, but Sano spoke before she could.
“Perhaps you would make a few inquiries for me?” He regarded her with somber caution.
The last thing Reiko had expected was for Sano to ask for her help, and glad surprise stunned her. But contradictory emotions forestalled the agreement she longed to give him. She wanted to restore the partnership that had been a cornerstone of their marriage, but she was terrified that she would make a mistake and cause Sano more trouble.
Now she saw disappointment, and guilt, in Sano’s eyes. Averting his gaze, he stacked empty dishes on his tray. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t involve you in this bad business. After what happened to you at the Black Lotus Temple, I won’t blame you if you want to give up detecting for good.”
He thought the experience had scared her off detective work, Reiko realized. He thought her a coward! Anxious to correct his misperception, Reiko said, “I’m not afraid of what will happen to me. I’m afraid of what I might do!”
As Reiko poured out her fears and explanations, Sano saw how much their reticence had hidden from each other. They’d sworn to put the Black Lotus case behind them, but Reiko hadn’t been able to do so any better than he had. Self-recrimination had eroded her spirit, and though she protested that danger didn’t scare her, Sano believed that facing death at the temple had undermined his wife’s valiant courage.
She abruptly fell silent, her head bowed in shame and anguish. Compassion toward her filled Sano.
“You need to make a fresh start,” he said. “This investigation will give you the opportunity.”
Reiko lifted her face to him, and he saw trepidation as well as hope in her eyes. “But I interfered with your investigation into the Black Lotus murders,” she said. “I disobeyed you. I opposed you in public. Can you really forgive me enough to work together again?”
“I said I did, and I meant it.” Sano trusted that her mistakes had taught Reiko a valuable lesson. What she needed was to go on from there. “Besides, if things had been the other way around, and I had made mistakes that upset you, I would want another chance.”
A sigh issued from Reiko. She stood, and Sano could see yearning in her face, and apprehension like chains shackling her body.
“Women often know more about what goes on in Edo than do men,” Sano said, “and you can get facts from them better than I can. Now that the shogun has forbidden me to interview the family and associates of Lord Mitsuyoshi, I need a discreet way to learn what enemies he had and what might have provoked his murder.” Sano coaxed, “If you want to be a detective, you have to start again sometime. Please take the chance now, when I need you most.”
“I suppose I could try.” Eagerness vibrated beneath Reiko’s tentative words. “Tomorrow I’ll begin asking questions. Maybe I can also discover what became of Lady Wisteria. I know women who follow the Yoshiwara gossip, and they may have ideas where she could be.”
The conversation suddenly became a landscape of perilous chasms around Sano. He’d never told Reiko about his affair with Lady Wisteria. He assumed that Reiko assumed he’d had lovers before her, because men enjoyed the freedom to satisfy their desires at will. However, he and Reiko had a tacit agreement never to discuss the women in his past, because they liked to believe they were kindred spirits bonded in exclusive togetherness. And although Sano didn’t think an affair that predated their marriage should matter, he worried about how Reiko would feel if she learned about him and Wisteria at a time when their union was troubled. If he said he’d freed Wisteria, his wife might think there’d been more to the affair than just a few nights of sex. Furthermore, honesty was integral to their relationship, and keeping a secret from Reiko bothered him.
Reiko shimmered with an exuberance she couldn’t suppress. “What is known about Lady Wisteria? Have you any information on what kind of person she is, or about her past, that might help us find her?”
Sano couldn’t tell Reiko that he’d personally known Wisteria, because she would wonder why he hadn’t mentioned it sooner, and might guess the reason. Now he had second thoughts about involving Reiko in the case. He got to his feet, stalling while he thought what to say.
“Wisteria came from Dewa Province,” he said, remembering what Wisteria herself had told him, on their first night together. “Her father was a farmer who sold her to a brothel procurer because his crops failed and he couldn’t support all his children.”
These were facts he could have learned in Yoshiwara today, and Reiko seemed so absorbed in the case that she didn’t notice his agitation. “Then Wisteria probably has no family in Edo,” she said, “but since she’s a popular tayu, her business must be the subject of much talk. I’m sure I’ll find someone who can tell me about her.”
Reiko embraced Sano with an ardor typical of happier days. “I’ll help you solve this case, and things will be as they were before.”
Sano held his wife, hoping that their bad experience on the Black Lotus case wouldn’t repeat itself, and Reiko need never learn more about Wisteria than would benefit the investigation.
* * *
6
Unbroken snow covered the emp
ty streets of Edo. Shutters sealed the windows and storefronts of buildings. Stray dogs cowered in alleys, where puddles glazed to ice as the night’s cold deepened. On the banks of canals, itinerant beggars slumbered beside smoldering bonfires. Starlight shimmered along the black curve of the Sumida River, and boats moored at wharves stood as if frozen. Night had paralyzed most of the city, but in certain areas of the Nihonbashi merchant district, life flourished most busily after dark.
A ramshackle building situated between a public bathhouse and a noodle stand housed a nameless gambling den. Inside sat peasants and samurai, gangsters with arms and chests covered by tattoos, and even a few priests in saffron robes. They dealt, shuffled, and flung down cards. Shouts and laughter accompanied the games. Piles of coins shifted, while slovenly maids served sake. Tobacco smoke from the gamblers’ pipes filled the room with an acrid haze that wreathed the ceiling lanterns.
Beyond a curtained doorway, in the dim back room of the gambling den, Lady Wisteria sat on a straw mattress. Her head was wrapped in a blue kerchief, and her lovely eyes gleamed with anxiety in the light that shone through the curtain. She shivered beneath her cloak as she listened to the clink of coins and the men’s raucous voices. Whenever arguments and curses erupted, she winced. Her fearful gaze roved the bare rafters, the sake urns that lined the walls, and the barred window.
A day had passed since Wisteria had left Yoshiwara, and she’d traded one prison for another. This pause between her old life and new seemed almost harder to bear than had the prospect of years in the brothel. Impatience unfurled in her like a growing thistle plant. Her solitude frightened her, and she puckered her sensuous mouth in an ironic smile. How often had she yearned for solitude! She’d not anticipated how defenseless she would be.
The silhouette of a man appeared on the curtain. Alarmed, Wisteria shrank into the corner. Then he flung aside the curtain and entered the room, carrying a large bundle tied in a cloth. He was short but powerfully built, his shoulders broad beneath his cloak, and his calves knotted with muscles in his leggings. His neck resembled a stone column, and his face was all hard lines and angles: slanted brows that met over a bladelike nose; chin and jaws hewn; hair in a topknot crowning a slab of a forehead.
Sano Ichiro 7 The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria (2002) Page 6
