“I offer this gift as a token of my good faith,” Lady Yanagisawa said. “Agree to my proposition, and it’s yours.”
O-hana stood immobile, the packet resting on her open palm. She stared at it as if trying to discern whether she held her dearest dream or a poisonous snake that would bite her. Lady Yanagisawa watched, her breath caught by anxiety. What if O-hana refused? Would she tell Reiko about the proposition? If so, what would happen, and how could Lady Yanagisawa achieve her aim without O-hana?
Guile and avarice, distrust and fear played across the girl’s features like wind shifting sandals. “I… need to think,” she said.
“Then think about how my husband is the most powerful man in Japan,” Lady Yanagisawa said, her quiet, flat voice disguising her emotions. “People who offend him or his kin pay dearly. Many are assassinated or executed. Some disappear and are never seen again. No one knows what becomes of them. But I could arrange for you to find out.”
The nursemaid lifted her gaze to Lady Yanagisawa. Her eyes glittered with terror and need. Then a sigh of capitulation deflated her. Nodding, she slowly closed her fingers over the packet of coins.
Lady Yanagisawa experienced such an overwhelming sense of triumph that she nearly swooned. She also quaked with sudden apprehension because she’d taken her second step in her campaign against Reiko, and victory would cost her Reiko’s friendship. The loss encroached upon her mind like a cloud bringing darkness and desolation.
But she addressed her new accomplice with calm authority: “Go now. I will send someone to hear your reports on Lady Reiko’s doings. And you will receive my instructions soon.”
* * *
28
Lord Mitsuyoshi’s family lived in a special enclave of Edo Castle, reserved for important Tokugawa clan members. Here, Sano and two detectives strode along flagstone lanes through landscaped forest that separated mansions surrounded by gardens and stone walls. The enclave, deserted except for sentries in gatehouses, seemed remote from the city’s turbulent life. Gray clouds spread rapidly across the sky, but Sano breathed hope from the fresh, pine-scented air. Perhaps the solution to his problems awaited him inside the mansion belonging to Lord: Matsudaira, father of Mitsuyoshi.
After introducing himself to the gate sentries, he said, “Please tell Lord Matsudaira that I must speak with him.”
The sentries conveyed his request, and so quickly obtained permission for Sano to enter that he dared believe Lord Matsudaira hadn’t yet heard what had happened to him or become prejudiced against him. An attendant escorted him and his men into an audience chamber, where they found guards stationed along the walls and Lord Matsudaira standing on the dais.
“Why have you come here?” Lord Matsudaira demanded.
He had the shogun’s aristocratic features, but set in a broader, more intelligent face; his robust physique wore black ceremonial robes. Hands balled on his hips, surrounded by his troops like a general in a military encampment, he glared at Sano, who realized with dismay that his host already knew he’d been branded the murderer of Mitsuyoshi.
Bowing quickly, Sano said, “Before I explain, please allow me to offer you my condolences for the loss of your son.”
Lord Matsudaira dropped his hands and tilted his head, staring as though he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “I’ll not accept false sympathy from the man who killed him.” His voice was harsh with indignation.
“Please understand that you’ve been misinformed,” Sano said, as his men clustered defensively around him. “I did not kill Mitsuyoshi-san.”
“So you say,” Lord Matsudaira retorted. “The word around the castle is that you did. Do you think I don’t know you’ve been accused by the shogun?” Disgust and hatred twisted his face as he took a step toward Sano. “I also know about the book that describes your plot against my son and His Excellency. Police Commissioner Hoshina told me this morning.”
Hoshina had been quick to spread the news, turn public opinion against him, and prevent him from getting Mitsuyoshi’s family to aid his investigation, Sano thought. “The book is a fraud,” he said. “The accusation was initiated by Hoshina. It’s no secret that he’s out for my blood.”
Lord Matsudaira waved his hand in a gesture that dismissed Sano’s explanation as a poor excuse. “The shogun, chamberlain, elders, and police commissioner all believe you’re a killer and traitor. That’s proof enough for me.”
“The shogun hasn’t yet decided I’m guilty, in spite of the book and Hoshina’s slander,” Sano said. “His Excellency has allowed me to continue investigating the crime and prove my innocence.”
“Your clever tongue has saved you from execution,” Lord Matsudaira said disdainfully. “But I’ll use all my influence and power to ensure that you die.” Moving to the edge of the dais, he raised his left fist at Sano and rested his right on the hilt of his sword. Then a sob choked him. His belligerent posture crumpled; he averted his face.
Sano thought of Lord Matsudaira’s reputation as a kind master to the citizens on the Tokugawa lands he managed, and perceived that he genuinely mourned Mitsuyoshi, not just the loss of political advantage he’d enjoyed as father to the shogun’s heir. Sano pitied this grieving, misguided man.
“It would be better to use your power and influence to discover the truth about your son’s death,” he said. “I’ve come to enlist your help in exposing the real killer.”
Lord Matsudaira’s head snapped around; fury glittered through his tears. “You’ve come to stage a show of innocence and gloat over the misery you’ve caused this clan! I’ll not help you save yourself.” He leapt off the dais, advanced on Sano until they were a mere step apart, then thrust his face so close that Sano could see the red veins in his blazing eyes. “The only reason I let you in was so I can tell you in person that you, who have destroyed my son and betrayed our lord, are the most disgraceful creature on this earth!”
The insult struck Sano like blows to his spirit, and he retreated backward even as he said, “Please hear me out. In most murder cases, the victim was killed by someone close to him. Things he did, or trouble in his relations with people, can have led to the crime, and—”
“You would blame my son for his own murder?” Lord Matsudaira interrupted in outrage. “You’re an even worse villain than the courtesan’s pillow book portrays you. I’m ashamed that I ever thought you were an honorable samurai!”
“I’m not blaming Lord Mitsuyoshi,” Sano hastened to say. “The fault belongs entirely to his killer. All I meant was that the key to solving a murder case usually lies in the victim’s background.”
Lord Matsudaira shook his head, scorning Sano.
“Your son must have had an enemy,” Sano persisted. “You knew him all his life, and you must know what his activities were, whom he associated with, the places he frequented.” Sano extended a hand and infused his voice with all the persuasiveness in him. “Please help me identify the enemy who killed him.”
“My son was a harmless, respectable young man, and liked by everyone around him. He had no enemies, and he didn’t die because of anything that happened in his personal life.”
It had occurred to Sano that Lord Matsudaira might not be the best source of facts about Mitsuyoshi, whose reputation for debauchery suggested he’d had plenty to hide from his father. “Perhaps other family members were more familiar with your son’s business than yourself,” Sano said. “Perhaps they would be more willing to talk to me.” Though he saw little chance that Lord Matsudaira would allow him to interview anyone else here, he had to ask.
Lord Matsudaira huffed in shock at this new affront. “My wife is ill from grief. I’ll not let you bother her with questions or insinuations about our son.”
“Then may I speak with Mitsuyoshi’s brothers?” Sano said. “Or his personal retainers?”
Just then, Sano noticed one of the guards watching him with closer attention than the others. The man, perhaps thirty-five years old, had the powerful body of a fighter and the sensitive face of a schola
r. His gaze met Sano’s, then veered away. Sano recognized the guard as one of Mitsuyoshi’s men whom he’d seen in Yoshiwara after the murder.
“This murder was strictly political, as you well know,” Lord Mat-sudaira said. “My son fell victim to your quest for power. You murdered him so your son could take his place as the shogun’s heir. He was an incidental casualty of your attack on the Tokugawa regime. Now you seek a scapegoat to frame for your crime, so you can escape treason charges.”
“I’m neither a murderer nor traitor,” Sano denied vehemently. “I’m innocent, and I’ll prove it.”
Lord Matsudaira jabbed his finger into Sano’s chest. “Mitsuyoshi’s brothers and retainers know what you are, and if you approach them, they’ll kill you to avenge his death. Consider it a favor from me that I deny you permission to speak to them. I wouldn’t willingly trespass on His Excellency’s right to determine your fate, but if you come here again or go near any members of my household—” He drew his sword, brandished it at Sano, and shouted, “I’ll kill you myself and save the executioner the trouble!”
The detectives leapt between Sano and Lord Matsudaira’s sword; the guards drew their weapons, anticipating a battle. “Even as you accuse me and threaten me, the real killer is out there somewhere,” Sano said. “If you won’t cooperate with my investigation and you join my enemies in condemning me, you’ll deny your son the justice he deserves. The murderer will walk free.”
Fixing a long, hostile look on Sano, Lord Matsudaira said, “He already has.” Then he addressed the guards: “Escort the sōsakan-sama off the premises before I personally deliver him to justice.”
As soon as Sano and Hirata had left her to begin their inquiries into Lord Mitsuyoshi’s background, Reiko had gone to the palace to begin hers. She’d hoped to coax her cousin Eri and friends among the shogun’s concubines and their attendants into telling her what they knew about Lord Mitsuyoshi. But the chief female palace official said everyone was too busy to talk. Her cold manner told Reiko the unhappy truth: The women had heard that Sano was on the brink of ruin, and they all had withdrawn their friendship from his wife because they didn’t want her troubles to infect them. Visits to friends and relatives in the official quarter ended the same way, and Reiko went home feeling like a pariah.
As she sat in her parlor, terrified that she’d lost her power to help Sano, one of Sano’s detectives appeared at the door. He said, “I have information that the sōsakan-sama told me to report to you if he wasn’t available. I’ve found the bathhouse where Lady Wisteria’s friend Yuya works.” He gave a location in Nihonbashi. “I searched the place this morning, and there was no sign of Wisteria. Everyone denies knowing anything about her—but I think Yuya was lying.”
Reiko was thrilled, because her visit to the courtesan’s family had produced a possible lead. Perhaps if she talked to Yuya, she could get the truth. “Please summon an escort to take me to the bathhouse at once,” she said.
The detective went off to obey. Reiko hurried to her chamber to dress for the trip. She’d just strapped her dagger under her sleeve, when the nursemaid O-hana sidled into the room.
“You’re very busy lately, Honorable Mistress,” O-hana said.
Reiko frowned at the intrusion. She suspected that O-hana had been eavesdropping. “Yes, I am,” Reiko said in a tone that discouraged conversation. She noted that O-hana seemed nervous and her eyes were brighter than usual.
O-hana ignored the hint that she should go. “Are you going out again?” she said eagerly.
“Yes.” Reiko’s dislike of the girl increased, even though O-hana had done her a service by introducing her to Wisteria’s family. Her senses stirred alert to a new malevolence about O-hana. She inwardly rebuked herself for feelings based on fancy, not reason. How could she break the spell of the Black Lotus, stop imagining threats that didn’t exist, and concentrate on the ones that did?
“I heard that the sōsakan-sama has been accused of murder and treason.” O-hana edged closer to Reiko. “How awful!”
“Indeed,” Reiko said flatly. O-hana had overstepped the bounds of courtesy by mentioning Sano’s problems, and Reiko resented O-hana’s obvious hunger for sordid details.
“I’m so sorry. You must be very worried about what’s happened.” O-hana knelt cautiously, like a cat settling down in a place where it feels insecure. “I hope I haven’t upset you more by speaking of it.”
Instead of heeding her wish to order the girl back to work, Reiko forced a smile and said, “It’s all right.” O-hana was only offering sympathy as best she knew how. Personal problems were no excuse for ill temper toward an innocent servant.
“You and the sōsakan-sama have been good to me, and I’d hate for anything bad to happen to you,” O-hana said. An odd, furtive note echoed in her voice, almost as if she felt the opposite of what she said. After a pause, she blurted, “I wish I could make all these troubles disappear.”
Reiko fought her suspicion, because there was no reason to think O-hana meant her harm. “Thank you,” Reiko said more warmly. “I’m sorry if I seemed harsh. I am a little worried.”
O-hana blushed, hunching in inexplicable shame. “I don’t deserve your apology,” she mumbled.
But there definitely was something off about O-hana that Reiko couldn’t attribute to her own overactive imagination. “What’s the matter?” she said.
“Nothing!” The girl sat up straight, as if jabbed in the back. “It’s kind of you to ask, but I’m fine.” She gave Reiko a too-bright smile. “It’s your situation that concerns me. What are you going to do?”
Unconvinced, Reiko eyed her closely. “I’ll try to discover who killed Lord Mitsuyoshi and prove my husband’s innocence.”
“Maybe I can help,” O-hana said. “Shall I go with you?”
Her readiness to intrude again aroused new suspicion in Reiko. “You can help me by staying here and attending to your duties,” Reiko said.
“Yes, Honorable Mistress.”
A look of pique and disappointment flitted across O-hana’s face, but she bowed meekly, rose, and sidled away. Reiko hurried outside to her waiting palanquin.
Sano and his detectives walked down the passage leading away from the Tokugawa family enclave. Through the gun holes and arrow slits in the enclosed corridors that topped the high walls, Sano heard the guards conversing while they waited to shoot anyone who invaded the castle. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and his face expressionless, concealing his fear as he passed beneath watchtowers occupied by more guards. There was no security here for a man accused of treason. Sano felt like an enemy soldier trapped in the castle, because the might of the Tokugawa would turn on him unless he somehow obtained the information he’d failed to get from Lord Matsudaira and cleared his name.
“Sōsakan-sama!” Rapid footsteps behind Sano accompanied the call. “May I please speak with you?”
Sano turned and saw, running down the passage toward him, the guard who’d watched him so intently at the Matsudaira estate. He halted, glad that someone from the household was willing to talk to him.
“Yes,” Sano said. The guard lurched to a stop before him, panting from exertion, and bowed. “Go ahead.”
The guard looked around, his sensitive face taut with nervousness. He mumbled, “In private, if we may?”
“As you wish.” Sano signaled his men to move ahead, while he walked with the guard.
“Many thanks.” Though the guard spoke with breathless relief, he dawdled, his shoulders hunched and his gaze furtive.
Sano studied the man while allowing him time to compose himself. He had a frown that wrinkled the skin of his upper eyelids, and a delicate mouth that lent him a vulnerable air despite his muscular heft.
“What’s your name?” Sano said.
“Wada,” the guard said, as if making a guilty admission.
“Don’t be afraid, Wada-san. I appreciate your coming to me,” Sano said.
They traveled some twenty paces before Wada said in a
n almost inaudible voice, “Family reputation is very important to my master. He loved his son and wants to preserve only the good memories of him.”
“But someone who cares less about appearances might reveal the truth about Lord Mitsuyoshi?” Sano suggested.
Wada hesitated, his gaze fixed on the ground as they walked. “My master has forbidden his family, retainers, and servants to talk to you. I don’t want to disobey him.”
And he certainly didn’t want to be punished, Sano thought. Was the man fishing for a bribe? Sano scrutinized Wada’s profile, but saw no avarice, only the worry of a man torn between loyalty and the desire to speak his mind. “Your ultimate duty is to the shogun,” Sano said. “His Excellency has ordered me to investigate Lord Mitsuyoshi’s murder, and you must cooperate by telling me everything you know that might be relevant.”
Wada’s frown relaxed, but he still looked perturbed. “My family has served the Matsudaira for five generations,” he said. “I was part of Mitsuyoshi-san’s retinue since the day he was born and looked after him all his life. He was as dear to me as a younger brother. I don’t want to lose my post, but I couldn’t bear it if the wrong man was punished for his murder and his killer went free because I kept silent.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to avenge Mitsuyoshi-san’s death,” Sano promised.
“Well…” Although Wada seemed reassured, hesitation inserted uneasy pauses between his words. “When Mitsuyoshi-san was very young, the clan’s fortune teller predicted that he would someday rule Japan. From that moment his life was a preparation for becoming shogun. His father hired teachers to make Mitsuyoshi-san study books and practice martial arts all day long, and priests to discipline his spirit. Eventually he was introduced to the shogun, who took a liking to him. It looked as if the prophecy would come true. So much was expected of him because he was going to inherit the regime… ”
“That he rebelled?” Sano said.
Nodding, the guard continued with reluctance: “He was a strong-willed boy. He craved adventure. When he was sixteen, he got tired of constant discipline and protection. He ordered me to help him sneak out of the castle. We would roam the town while his father thought he was studying. Mitsuyoshi-san loved the entertainment districts. He had good looks, charm, and money, and he made friends at the teahouses and gambling dens. Soon he discovered Yoshiwara, and the trouble started.
Sano Ichiro 7 The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria (2002) Page 26
