Sano, Hirata, Marume, and Fukida dismounted. Hirata pushed open the gate. Leaving the troops in the alley, Sano and the detectives followed Hirata down the muddy passage between the blank, windowless walls of two tenements, past reeking garbage containers. They entered a yard enclosed by buildings. Doors on the lower stories opened directly onto the yard. Balconies cluttered with junk fronted second-story dwellings. Sano heard voices arguing and children shrieking, but the yard was empty except for two unshaven, surly men.
One crouched naked on the ground, pouring water over himself, taking an open-air bath. He carried on a muttered conversation with the other man, who squatted inside a privy shed with the door left open. They both looked up at Sano’s party, but neither ceased his labors.
“We’re looking for Egen,” Hirata said. “Where is he?”
The men pointed at a door on the ground floor. Hirata walked over to it and knocked.
“Who’s there?” a gruff male voice called from inside.
“The shogun’s investigator,” Hirata said. “Open up!”
Sano heard shuffling inside. The door slid open a crack. Out peered a watery, red-rimmed eye. “What do you want?”
“Are you Egen?” Sano asked.
“Yes. Who are you?”
Sano introduced himself and said, “I want to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Let us in, and I’ll tell you,” Sano said.
Egen heaved a sigh of irritation, opened the door, and stepped backward. Entering the room with his party, Sano found a squat old man with frizzled gray hair. His short brown kimono was open to reveal his flabby torso, bare legs, and loincloth. He yawned, evidently having just awakened. His room was a small, dim cave filled with heaps of unidentifiable articles. It smelled powerfully of liquor, sleep, and stale body odor.
“Whew!” Marume said.
He flung open the window. Fresher air poured into the room. Daylight revealed Egen. His face and whole body were covered with pocked, bumpy, discolored skin.
“Whoa!” Fukida said.
“What’s the matter?” Egen said, unflinching under the revolted gazes that Sano and the other men couldn’t tear away from him. “Haven’t you ever seen somebody who’s had smallpox?”
“I’m sorry,” Sano said politely.
“Don’t be,” Egen said. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I need to ask you some questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Were you once a monk at Bairin Temple?” Sano said.
“Yes,” Egen said crossly. “Who told you?”
“Never mind,” Hirata said. “Just answer his questions.”
“Forty-three years ago, did you work as a tutor to Tokugawa Tadatoshi?” Sano asked.
“Yes. In another lifetime.” Egen recalled his manners and said, “Can I offer you some tea?”
He gestured toward a corner that served as a kitchen. Around the ceramic hearth sat a few pots, pans, and bowls, all coated with scum.
“No, thank you,” Sano said.
Fukida examined the heaps, which consisted of old clothes and shoes, broken furniture, chipped dishware and statues, torn paper lanterns, and other damaged items. “What are you doing with all this stuff?”
“I collect it,” Egen said, “to sell. I’m a junk peddler.”
Marume picked up a small, headless Buddha figure. Egen snatched it away and exclaimed, “Hey, that’s valuable merchandise. Do you mind?”
“You’ve come a long way from tutor in the house of a Tokugawa vassal to peddler of junk,” Sano said. “What happened?”
“Bad luck. Is that all you wanted to know?”
“Not quite.” Sano couldn’t help liking Egen, who seemed to accept his lot in life without complaining and was brave enough to stand up to authority. Despite the man’s ugliness, he had a certain charm. “Tadatoshi went missing during the Great Fire. Do you remember?”
Egen nodded. “Oh, yes. I was sent out to look for the brat. Everybody in the house was.” Scratching his chest, he yawned again. “I could use a drink.” He picked up a grimy wine jar and waved it around. “Join me?”
Sano and his men politely declined. Egen drank straight from the jar, coughed and licked his lips, then said, “While I was looking for Tadatoshi, I almost got killed in the fire, like he did.”
“He didn’t,” Sano said.
“What? But he must have died in the fire, because he never came back.”
“Tadatoshi was murdered not long after the fire. His body turned up two days ago.” Sano explained about the unmarked grave near the shrine.
“Well, I never would have thought.” Egen shook his head. “What happened to him? Who did it?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Sano said.
“Pardon me, but why bother? It was a long time ago.”
“My mother has been accused of the crime.”
“Oh?” Surprised, Egen asked, “Who is your mother?”
“Her name is Etsuko, from the Kumazawa clan,” Sano said. It still felt strange to realize that the clan was part of his own family tree and he was a born Tokugawa vassal, not just one who’d earned his way into the regime. “She was a lady-in-waiting to Tadatoshi’s mother. Do you remember her?”
“Etsuko, Etsuko,” the tutor mulled. “Oh, yes. Pretty girl.” He swigged more wine. “Did she kill Tadatoshi?”
“No,” Sano said. “I’m trying to prove she’s innocent.”
“Well, good luck,” Egen said, “but what does that have to do with me?”
“My mother’s not the only person who’s been accused,” Sano said. “So have you.”
“Me?” Egen pointed to his own chest, taken aback. He thumped the wine jar down on a dingy table. “I didn’t kill anyone. Who says I did?”
“A man who was Tadatoshi’s bodyguard at the time the boy disappeared. His name is Doi.”
“Doi …” Recollection showed on Egen’s pockmarked face. “So he’s still around. What’s he doing now?”
“He’s a colonel in Lord Matsudaira’s army,” Sano said.
“Well, well.” Egen apparently knew who Lord Matsudaira was. “But I’m not surprised. Doi was headed for big things. So now he’s attacked you through your mother.” He also knew about the conflict between Sano and Lord Matsudaira and suspected that it was behind Doi’s accusation. “What does Doi say I did?”
“That you and my mother conspired to kidnap Tadatoshi for ransom, then something went wrong and you killed him.”
“That’s horse dung,” Egen scoffed.
“Here’s your chance to contradict Doi,” Sano said. “When was the last time you saw Tadatoshi?”
“The morning the Great Fire started. In the house. After breakfast. I gave him his history lesson,” Egen said promptly.
“It was a lifetime ago, and you remember such small details?” Hirata interjected.
“Because of the fire,” Egen said. “When something as big as that happens, you do tend to remember things you’d have forgotten otherwise.”
“All right,” Sano said, willing to accept Egen’s story for now. The man was well spoken and confident. “What did you do after you saw Tadatoshi?”
“Helped fireproof the house. A lot of good that did—it burned down anyway. Then I went looking for Tadatoshi. Nine days after the fire was over, I met up with what was left of the household and found out he still hadn’t turned up.”
“You didn’t happen to run into him?”
“No. I already told you. Not after his lesson.”
“Was there anybody around to vouch for what you say you did during the fire?” Sano asked.
“The retainers and servants, while I was working on the house. Afterward, when we were all sent out to look for him, I got separated from the others. So, no, I guess not.” Egen’s expression turned wary. “Hey, what are you trying to do? Save your mother by pinning the murder on me?”
“No,” Sano hastened to assure him. “I just ne
ed a witness to show that Colonel Doi lied.”
Egen grinned. “You found one. I didn’t kidnap Tadatoshi or kill him, and your mother and I didn’t conspire to do anything at all.”
“Good.” Relieved that the investigation was nearing a satisfactory end, Sano said, “I need you to tell that to Lord Matsudaira and the shogun.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Hirata said.
“Lord Matsudaira and the shogun?” Egen held up his hands and waggled them. “Hey, wait, no. I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Sano said, impatient.
“I don’t want to get caught in the middle of any trouble.” Consternation clouded Egen’s face as he backed away from Sano.
“You won’t.”
“I sure will if Lord Matsudaira doesn’t like what I say.”
“If you testify, I’ll protect you,” Sano said.
“Hah!”
Fukida said to Sano, “Do you want me to tie him up?”
“Not yet.” If that proved to be necessary, Sano wouldn’t balk, but Egen would make a more credible witness if he testified willingly. Sano tried to reason with him. “You’ll get in trouble if you don’t testify.”
“Oh?” Egen said, suspicious. “How’s that?”
“Colonel Doi accused you as well as my mother,” Sano said. “If the shogun decides she’s guilty of kidnapping and killing his cousin, he won’t stop at punishing her. He’ll come after you next.”
“You’ll be executed,” Fukida said.
“Your ugly head will be stuck on a post by the Nihonbashi Bridge,” Marume said.
Egen staggered with fear. “What am I going to do?” he beseeched Sano.
“If you want to stay alive, then testify,” Sano said. “Your story and my mother’s will refute Colonel Doi’s. It’ll be two against one.”
“I don’t know,” Egen stalled.
“It’s your best chance,” Sano said.
Egen thought for a long moment while Fukida and Marume stood ready to seize him. Then he said with a grudging sigh, “Oh, all right.”
Reiko was surprised to see that her mother-in-law had made a miraculous recovery.
Etsuko had felt well enough to rise from her bed this morning, wash and dress herself, and eat breakfast. Now she strolled with Reiko and Akiko through the garden. The air was cool and humid. Clouds had blown down from the hills, threatening rain. Akiko toddled beside Etsuko and clung to her hand. Reiko walked on Etsuko’s other side. She was hurt because Akiko had refused to hold hands with her and wanted Grandma between them. That did not improve Reiko’s feelings toward her mother-in-law, an interloper as well as a suspect in a murder case that threatened her family.
Akiko paused to examine a rock. Etsuko smiled as she chatted with the little girl. Reiko could guess the reason for her restored health.
“I suppose my husband told you what he learned yesterday?” Reiko said.
“Yes.” Etsuko’s face had relaxed into her usual serene contentment. “He said that Lady Ateki and Oigimi spoke well of me. Things are not as bad as before.”
“But not as good as we might wish.” Reiko tasted the acid in her own voice. She knew that her jealousy was irrational and unbecoming, but she had better reason to be displeased with her mother-in-law. The trouble wasn’t over, Etsuko had done little to abate it, and Reiko was having a hard time treating Etsuko gently, as Sano wanted her to do. “Did my husband also tell you that Hana has given you an alibi?”
“I believe he said something to that effect.”
This was an example of the formal speech that sometimes slipped into Etsuko’s conversation, that Reiko had thought didn’t jibe with her humble background. “But when I talked to you yesterday, you said there wasn’t anyone who could vouch that you were someplace other than near the shrine when Tadatoshi was murdered. Then Hana said she could; she was with you. Which is the truth?”
Akiko broke away from them, ran to the flower bed, and bent to sniff the blossoms. A shadow of anxiety dimmed Etsuko’s expression. “I wasn’t in my right mind yesterday. I was confused. If Hana says we were together, then we were.”
How glibly she’d explained the discrepancies between their stories, Reiko thought; and how shrewd of Etsuko to pick the one that served her better. Sano would probably excuse his mother and believe the alibi. He couldn’t see her intelligence through her humble guise.
“Very well,” Reiko said, “but there’s a problem with that alibi, even if it’s real.”
“Oh?”
“Devoted servants will lie for their employers,” Reiko said. “Lord Matsudaira knows that, and he’ll be sure to point it out to the shogun.”
“We’ll just have to pray they believe Hana,” Etsuko said, clearly less assured than her words.
“We need to do more than pray,” Reiko said. “What would really help is someone else to vouch for your whereabouts during the murder. Can you think of anyone?”
“There’s no one. I told you yesterday.” A tinge of sharpness crept into Etsuko’s voice.
“What about your relatives?” Reiko said, introducing this topic that Etsuko had seemed unwilling to discuss.
Etsuko hunched her shoulders; she took on a tense, cornered air. She looked across the garden at Akiko smelling flowers, as if she wished she could escape Reiko and join the child. “They weren’t with me during the Great Fire.”
“Maybe they can still help,” Reiko said. “The Kumazawa are high-ranking Tokugawa vassals. They might have some influence with the shogun.” Etsuko and Sano needed all the powerful allies they could get. “Shall I ask my husband to contact them?”
Reiko was avidly curious about the Kumazawa, her husband and children’s new blood kin. She wanted to meet them. But Etsuko cried in panic, “No! Please!”
“Why not?”
“… I—I don’t want to see them. And they … they won’t want anything to do with me.”
“When did you last see your relatives?” Reiko asked.
Etsuko shook her head. She inched away from Reiko, who followed. “A few months after the Great Fire.”
Tadatoshi had died during or shortly after the fire; Etsuko and her family had become estranged at around the same time. Did the estrangement have bearing upon the murder? Reiko began to believe so. Something bad had happened back then, and it wasn’t just the Great Fire. “Why did you lose contact with your family?”
“I don’t remember … it was so long ago … the people closest to me are all dead now … it doesn’t matter …” Etsuko’s evasions trailed off in a shaky sigh.
Reiko felt her patience dwindling fast. “I think it does matter,” she said, for a new idea had occurred to her. “I think they know something about you that you don’t want anyone else to know. Am I right?”
“No. With all due respect, Honorable Daughter-in-law, you’re talking nonsense.” The fear that shone in her eyes belied Etsuko’s words.
“Is it something about the murder?” Reiko persisted.
Etsuko turned her back on Reiko. “I won’t put up with this,” she said, her voice tight.
“You’ll have to put up with much worse if my husband can’t clear your name.” Reiko kept her own voice low so Akiko wouldn’t hear her, but her own temper snapped. “You’ll be executed. Or maybe you don’t care. But what about your son? What about your grandchildren?”
She gestured angrily toward Akiko, who picked a flower, oblivious to her elders. Reiko realized that this was her first quarrel with Etsuko, and that Sano wouldn’t approve, but ten years of peaceful if strained relations between her and her mother-in-law had just ended. “Do you want them to die? Don’t you owe it to them to be honest, to cooperate?”
Etsuko whirled. She faced Reiko, her hands curled into claws, her usually mild face suffused with rage. “Of course I care! I protected my son before you were even born. I would do anything in my power to protect him and his children now. And I’m cooperating as best I can. What else do you want me to do? Confess to the murder?”
As Etsuko glared at her, Reiko stood openmouthed with shock. It was as if a domestic cat had suddenly turned into a lion, roared, and charged. Reiko saw a different, stronger, ruthless person in Etsuko, a person that she knew Sano had never seen.
She saw a woman capable of murder.
Every instinct told her that her mother-in-law was guilty.
A fretful wind swirled around them. Raindrops dashed the garden. Above them, black clouds encroached on the blue sky. Then Reiko heard Sano’s voice from a distance, calling, “Mother! Reiko san! I have good news!”
Sano hurried across the garden toward his mother, wife, and daughter. He’d ridden ahead to Edo Castle with Marume, Fukida, and some of his troops while Hirata and the others followed with the tutor. He’d arranged an audience with the shogun, then stopped at home. Now he was glad to see that his mother had recovered from her ordeal, and he anticipated that what he had to say would make her feel even better.
She was standing with her back to him, so he couldn’t immediately see her face. He did see Reiko’s. Its expression told him that his wife and mother had been quarreling. Then his mother turned, Akiko ran to him, and Sano forgot to wonder why.
“What is it?” his mother said, hopeful yet not daring to believe.
“I’ve found Egen the tutor,” Sano said.
“How wonderful!” Reiko said. The anger on her face changed to a smile of admiration and eagerness for details.
His mother’s eyes went so wide that Sano could see the yellowed whites encircling the brown irises. The pupils dilated; the blood drained from her face. She swayed.
“Mother!” Sano caught her before she could topple. “What’s wrong?”
She gasped. “Nothing. I—I just felt a little dizzy.”
Akiko wailed in alarm. Sano said, “It’s all right, Akiko. Grandma’s just having a spell. You go and play now.”
The little girl ran off with a nervous, uncomprehending look backward. Sano saw the color return to his mother’s cheeks. She shook him off, and her eyes shone with an ardor he’d never observed in her before. She clasped her hands, which trembled.
The Fire Kimono (2008) Page 12
