“You had your man following me around?” Nakai glared at Sano, affronted and shocked anew. “You should be grateful to him,” said Kato. “He has exonerated you.” “Indeed.” Lord Matsudaira bent a speculative, disapproving look on Sano.
Yoritomo whispered to the shogun, who nodded, then said, “Captain Nakai, it, ahh, appears that you are not the murderer we seek. Go back to your post.”
Flabbergasted, Nakai didn’t budge. “Is that all?” he demanded of Sano. “You accuse me in front of everybody, you drag my honor through the mud, then I’m sent off as though nothing happened?” His face was red with fury. “How am I supposed to hold up my head in public?”
Sano truly regretted that he’d damaged an innocent man’s reputation. He also had cause to regret that Nakai wasn’t the assassin. “Please accept my apologies. I’ll see that everyone knows your honor is intact and that you’re compensated for any inconvenience you might suffer.”
Nakai fumed, then lashed out at Lord Matsudaira: “After all I’ve done for you, you let me be disgraced when you should reward me?”
“I suggest you obey His Excellency’s order and leave before your mouth gets you in trouble,” Lord Matsudaira said coldly.
The captain rose, huffing with wounded pride. “You’ve never forgotten that I have connections to your enemy’s clan. You’ve always held it against me even though it’s not my fault!” He stomped out of the room. The assembly sat quiet for a moment, waiting for the poisonous atmosphere to clear. But Sano knew that more trouble was yet to come. He sensed dread akin to his own behind the stoic faces around him. Only the oblivious shogun was calm.
“I must say I’m not surprised that Captain Nakai is innocent,” Lord Matsudaira said. He didn’t seem displeased, either. “Nakai has been blessed by good luck. Other men aren’t so fortunate.” His gaze, replete with accusation, impaled the two elders.
Kato and Ihara tried to conceal their dismay that his suspicion was aimed again toward their faction. The shogun nudged Yoritomo, wanting a translation of what had just passed, but Yoritomo’s luminous, frightened eyes watched Sano.
“You have a problem, too, Honorable Chamberlain,” Lord Matsudaira continued in the same menacing manner. “Now that your principal suspect has been exonerated, your investigation is back where it started—with no idea who the assassin is.”
Although distressed by the setback, Sano couldn’t afford to let Lord Matsudaira think the situation was as hopeless as it seemed.
“There are some other leads,” he began. Lord Matsudaira cut him off with an impatient gesture. “Don’t bother me about them until they prove more worthwhile than what you’ve turned up so far.” His glance flicked to the two elders, then back to Sano, his meaning clear: Any new leads Sano developed had better point to his enemies. “Should the assassin strike again, there will be some changes in the regime’s upper echelon. Don’t you agree that Hachijo Island has room for more than one exiled chamberlain?”
“Yes, my lord.” Sano kept his expression and tone deliberately serene. Although he’d risen so high in the bakufu,nothing had really changed; his rank didn’t exempt him from The Way of the Warrior. He fought anger because he must still accept abuse, no matter how undeserved.
Cruel amusement glittered in Lord Matsudaira’s eyes as he perceived Sano’s inner struggle. “But don’t be afraid that you’ll find Hachijo Island a lonely place. You’ll have plenty of company.” His gaze pierced Hirata, who gave an involuntary start. “As goes the master, so does his retainer.”
Hirata’s face acquired the look of a deer who sees a hunter pointing an arrow straight at him. Lord Matsudaira turned to the shogun. “I believe we can adjourn this meeting, Honorable Cousin.”
The shogun nodded, too confused to object. As he and his men and the elders bowed and rose, Sano felt doom in the air like a thunderstorm approaching. Lord Matsudaira said, “I trust that tomorrow will be a more satisfactory day.”
Outside the palace, Sano walked with Hirata across the gardens. Sunset painted a sullen crimson edge in the sky above the far western hills; clouds like a wall of smoke obscured moon and stars. Shadows bred and insects shrilled under trees that gathered night in their foliage. Flames burned in stone lanterns; torches carried by patrol guards flared in the darkening landscape.
“I regret that I wasn’t able to identify the assassin,” Hirata said, sounding ready to take the entire blame.
“I regret that I dragged you into this investigation.” If it should cause Hirata more harm than he’d already suffered, Sano would never forgive himself. “But let’s not despair yet. We’re lucky that Lord Matsudaira has given us another chance. Our other leads might direct us to the assassin. And the latest murder could provide new ones.”
“What are your orders for tomorrow?” Hirata said.
Sano wished yet again that he could excuse Hirata from the case. But Hirata’s fate as well as his own depended on its outcome, and Sano couldn’t deny Hirata a chance to save his own position and honor. “Track down the priest who bumped into Chief Ejima and the water-seller who was loitering near Highway Commissioner Sasamura.”
Hirata nodded, stoically accepting the strenuous work of hunting witnesses all over town. “I’ll also find out if anyone saw the killer stalking Colonel Ibe.”
“One incident or another could provide the critical break we need,” Sano said, although with more hope than he felt. He called Detectives Marume and Fukida to join them. “As soon as we get home, organize a hunt for the priest Ozuno. Commandeer troops from the army. I want every temple searched. If you find him, hold him someplace where he can’t get away, and notify me or Hirata-san immediately.”
They exited the gate that led from the palace grounds. After Sano and Hirata bid each other goodnight, Hirata walked with Arai and Inoue along the passage toward the administrative quarter. Sano went with Marume and Fukida to his compound. There he must sift through the information on the victims’ contacts, look for new suspects, and hope to learn that they had connections with Lord Matsudaira’s enemies. Fatigue overwhelmed Sano at the thought. He would probably be up all night again.
When Sano arrived at his compound, he found the lane outside deserted except for his guards loitering at the gate. The sight was so remarkable that he, Marume, and Fukida stopped in their tracks. Although Sano had cancelled his appointments, it was still early enough that there should have been officials waiting to snare him if he should appear. Inside the courtyard, his and his men’s footsteps echoed in the eerie silence.
“Where is everybody?” Fukida said.
“That’s a good question.” Sano had an uneasy feeling that something was amiss. They met his aide hovering at the entrance to the mansion, and Sano asked him, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Kozawa sounded as baffled as Sano was.
“Has it been like this all day?”
“No, Honorable Chamberlain. Early in the morning, there was the usual crowd. But it tapered off by midday. There have been no visitors since late afternoon—until just now.”
Instinct deepened Sano’s uneasy feeling. “Who is it?”
“Police Commissioner Hoshina. He and two of his commanders are waiting in the anteroom.”
Sano saw a bad day suddenly turn worse.
“Do you want me to throw him out?” Marume offered.
Although tempted, Sano remembered Hirata’s warning about Hoshina. He’d better find out what new scheme Hoshina was plotting against him. “No,” he said, then told Kozawa, “I’ll see the police commissioner in my office.”
His detectives escorted Sano there. He ordered them to go keep an eye on Hoshina’s men, then sat at his desk, breathing deeply and trying to shake off the tension from his meeting with Lord Matsudaira. Soon Kozawa opened the door, and in walked Hoshina.
“Greetings, Honorable Chamberlain,” he said with an insolent grin. He’d removed his swords, according to the rule for visitors, but he swaggered proudly nevertheless.
&nb
sp; “Welcome.” Sano spoke in a terse tone that indicated this visit would be short. “What brings you here?”
Hoshina gave a perfunctory bow. As he knelt before Sano, he gazed around the room. Sano saw bitter nostalgia color his expression and knew that Hoshina was recalling the days when he’d been the lover and chief retainer of its former occupant. “Oh, I just thought I’d pop in and see how you’re doing.”
“Somehow I don’t think you came for the pleasure of an idle chat,” Sano said.
Hoshina smirked, ignoring Sano’s hint to state his business. “It’s awfully quiet around here. Isn’t it amazing that a few words dropped in casual conversation can have such a dramatic effect?”
Sano’s stomach took a downward fall as he perceived a connection between his deserted office and Hoshina. “What are you talking about?”
“I happened to run into a few mutual acquaintances today.” Hoshina drawled the words, taking his time, enjoying Sano’s discomposure. “I happened to mention to them that you’re having trouble solving this murder case, and Colonel Ibe’s death hasn’t helped. They were very interested to hear that Lord Matsudaira is most dissatisfied with you and it’s jeopardized your good standing with him.” Hoshina shook his head in false sympathy. Mischief glittered in his eyes. “Rats are famous for deserting ships that are sinking.”
Sano realized what had happened. Hoshina, who had spies everywhere, had been following his investigation, warning people that Sano would likely fail to solve the case and they’d better limit their contact with him or share his punishment. Should Hoshina’s plot succeed as well as it seemed to be doing, Sano would lose his influence with the high Tokugawa officials and the feudal lords. His fear of becoming isolated and losing control over the government and nation assumed a new, dire reality. Sano should have foreseen that his enemy would attack him in this devious fashion, when he was most vulnerable. He glared at Hoshina, who sat grinning and waiting for his response.
“I’m not exactly surprised by your news,” Sano said with disciplined calm. “Your past behavior has shown that you’ll never stop trying to destroy me no matter how hard I try to make peace between us. What does surprise me is the method you’ve chosen this time.”
“Why is that?” Hoshina said, proud of his own cleverness.
“Interfering with my business will sabotage the functioning of Lord Matsudaira’s new regime,” Sano said. “Your game could prove to be more dangerous to you than me. And telling me about it gives me a chance to retaliate.”
Hoshina laughed. “IT1 take my chances.” Sano supposed Hoshina was so self-confident that he’d risked warning Sano just to see his reaction. Hoshina wasn’t the smartest man in the bakufu, but he was certainly among the most reckless, and he would rather be dead than give up hope of clawing his way to the top. Now he ambled around the room. “I’ve always fancied this office,” he said, appraising its generous proportions, high coffered ceiling, the walls lined with books and maps, the elaborate metal lanterns. “When you’re out of it, the shogun will need a new chamberlain. And I’ll be ready.” He gloated at Sano. “I should mention that many officials and daimyo have promised to support me with Lord Matsudaira in exchange for favors when your post is mine.”
Sano sensed that Hoshina had other, more personal reasons for mounting this coup against him than mere ambition. With Yanagisawa gone, Hoshina needed a target for his ire toward his onetime lover. By attacking Sano and winning the post that had belonged to Yanagisawa, he could satisfy his lust for revenge.
“Now that you’ve served me your notice, I’ll serve you mine,” Sano said. “If you expect to get away with this, you’re sadly mistaken.” He was gratified to see his foe’s expression turn uncertain. “As for this office, it won’t be yours any time soon.”
He looked pointedly at the door. Hoshina took the hint and moved toward it, but he said, “Enjoy it while it’s still yours,” and bowed with exaggerated courtesy. He paused, and cunning sparkled in his eyes. “Oh, I forgot to tell you— I’ve heard some interesting news. It was about Lady Reiko.”
“My wife?” Sano felt a pang of surprise that Hoshina should mention Reiko.
“None other,” Hoshina said. “She’s been seen gadding around the hinin settlement and the Ryogoku Hirokoji entertainment district. My sources at Magistrate Ueda’s court tell me she’s investigating an outcast woman accused of murder. They say she’s digging up evidence to acquit the woman even though she’s obviously guilty. Not only is Lady Reiko interfering with justice, she’s doing it on your orders because you think the law should be more lenient toward criminals.”
It was all Sano could do to hide his consternation. That Reiko’s exploits had come to the attention of his enemy! But he said in an even tone, “You should be careful about picking your sources. Don’t believe everything you hear.”
Hoshina gave him a look that scorned his words as an attempt to deny the undeniable. “Smoke is a sure sign of fire, as my new friends agreed when I mentioned Lady Reiko’s dubious activities to them. They also agreed that a chamberlain who bends the law at his own whim, and sends his woman out to do his dirty business, doesn’t deserve his post. This was a key factor that persuaded them to cut their ties to you.”
Before Sano could think of a reply, Hoshina said, “Lady Reiko did me a favor. Please convey my thanks to her—and my best wishes to your son.”
With a sardonic laugh, he swaggered from the room.
Chapter 21
Sano sat motionless until he heard Hoshina speak to the men he’d brought with him and Kozawa usher them all out of the mansion. Then he leaned his elbows on his desk and dropped his head into his hands. It seemed that things couldn’t get worse.
A door concealed by a painted mural slid open with a faint, surreptitious sound. Sano looked up to see Reiko standing in the passage that led to their private quarters. Her expression was solemn, her footsteps cautious as she approached Sano.
“I heard what Police Commissioner Hoshina said.” As she stood before Sano, she clasped her hands in penitence. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble.”
Sano couldn’t help regretting that he’d allowed her to investigate the crime in the hinin settlement, but he couldn’t blame her for unwittingly playing into Hoshina’s scheme. She looked so devastated that he didn’t have the heart to be angry with her. Furthermore, he’d given his full consent to her investigation. “Never mind.” He rose and took her hands in his. “It’s not your fault.”
“But you warned me that what I do could reflect badly on you,” Reiko said, still upset. “I didn’t believe you, and I should have. I wish I’d never heard of Yugao.”
So did Sano, but he said, “Your behavior was only one factor in my problems. Without you, Hoshina would have found some other weapon to use against me.”
“He mentioned Masahiro. It sounded like a threat. Would he really hurt our son?” Fright marked Reiko’s face.
“Not while I’m around,” Sano assured her.
He didn’t say what could happen if he were ousted. The family of a defeated samurai was considered a danger to his vanquisher. Reiko would probably survive because Hoshina wouldn’t consider a woman important enough to attack; but a son could grow up to avenge wrongs done to his father. Hoshina would never let Masahiro live that long. Yet death wasn’t the only fate that Sano feared for Masahiro. Boys without a protector were used and mistreated, sexually and otherwise, by men in power. Yanagisawa’s son Yoritomo had been lucky that he’d become the exclusive property of the shogun after he’d lost his father. Sano couldn’t bear to think, let alone tell Reiko, of what suffering Hoshina would cause Masahiro. He could only do his best to come out on top and hope that she wouldn’t give Hoshina any more ammunition.
“How did your investigation go today?” he asked. “Is it almost finished?”
Reiko heard in Sano’s voice the hope that her investigation would end before it could do any more harm. She knew that he feared for the safety of her, Masahiro,
their families, their friends, and the retainers who depended on him, not just his own. All of them would suffer if Sano were exiled, and so would the citizens of Japan if the selfish, corrupt, reckless Hoshina became the shogun’s second-in command. Reiko was still horrified by the consequences of her quest to find the truth and serve justice, and anxious to reassure Sano.
“I’ve learned enough to satisfy me that Yugao is guilty,” Reiko said. “My father will convict and sentence her tomorrow. I’m not planning any more inquiries around town.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Sano said.
He sounded so relieved that Reiko couldn’t tell him that she thought discovering Yugao’s motive was important enough to justify continuing her inquiries. He wouldn’t trust her intuition, not at a time like this. And she wasn’t certain that the danger of letting Yugao’s secrets remain unknown exceeded the danger from Hoshina. She had to keep up an unimpeachable standard of behavior from now on. If she wanted to know the truth about Yugao, she must wait until Sano’s troubles had blown over.
“Well,” Sano said, dropping her hands, “I should get back to work.”
An involuntary yawn opened his mouth so wide his jaw cracked. Reiko observed with concern that his eyes were blurred with fatigue. “Come rest awhile first.”
“There’s no time. In addition to starting my investigation all over, I have to figure out how to derail Hoshina’s plot to unseat me.”
“But you didn’t sleep at all last night. You must keep up your strength. At least take a nap,” Reiko urged. “You’ll be able to think more clearly afterward.”
She watched Sano vacillate; then he said, “Maybe you’re right,” and let her lead him to the bedchamber.
Sano’s eyes snapped open as he awakened from sound sleep to instant alertness. He was lying on his side in bed. The room was dark except for the faint glow of moonlight through the window. In the silence of the house he heard crickets chirping and frogs singing from the garden. He could barely see Reiko sleeping under the quilt beside him. Her slow, rhythmic breaths hissed quietly. Sano realized that his nap had lasted much longer than he’d intended. The entire household had gone to bed; it must be near midnight. But in the midst of dismay that he’d wasted hours he should have spent on work, a strange, prickling sensation chilled him. His samurai instincts signaled a warning.
The Assassin's Touch Page 18
