Sano Ichiro 9 The Perfumed Sleeve (2004)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “Something strange went on in this estate that night, but maybe Senior Elder Makino’s wife, concubine, actor, and chief retainer weren’t the only ones involved,” Hirata said to Sano. “What’s our next step?”

  “We’ll have the detectives check Tamura’s story about Daiemon with everyone who was in the estate during the murder. In the meantime…”As much as Sano dreaded the consequences of what he must do, he said, “We’ll have a talk with Lord Matsudaira’s nephew.”

  * * *

  9

  Political unrest had transformed the enclave inside Edo Castle where important Tokugawa clan members lived. The once-serene landscaped grounds were crowded with tents pitched to house troops that Lord Matsudaira had brought in from his province. In this camp, hundreds of idle soldiers drank, brawled, and played cards. Makeshift stables sheltered their horses. Smoke from cooking fires blackened the air. As Sano walked through the enclave with Hirata, Otani, and Ibe, he smelled the stench of privies. The soldiers’ restless presence filled Sano with apprehension. War seemed inevitable unless the conflict between Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa was quickly resolved.

  At Lord Matsudaira’s estate, guards confiscated the weapons from Sano and his companions and escorted them into the armory. This was a courtyard surrounded by plaster-walled, fireproof storehouses with iron shutters and doors. Lord Matsudaira and a group of his men stood outside a storehouse while porters carried in wooden crates. An attendant pried open one of the crates with a crowbar and lifted out an arquebus. Lord Matsudaira examined the long-barreled gun, then sighted down the barrel. The round black muzzle pointed directly at Sano, who understood that Lord Matsudaira was stocking his arsenal for the civil war. Lord Matsudaira lowered the weapon.

  “Ah, Sōsakan-sama,” he said with a genial, expectant smile. “Have you come to bring me news about your investigation?”

  Sano bowed. “Yes, Lord Matsudaira,” he said, uncomfortably aware that his news was bound to displease.

  Then Lord Matsudaira noticed Ibe. Anger darkened his expression. “Why is he here? How dare you bring in a member of my enemy’s faction?”

  “I’m honoring the agreement that requires my investigation to be observed by agents of both you and Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” Sano said.

  Comprehension and rancor dawned on Lord Matsudaira’s face. “And your investigation has brought you here. Have you cast your lot with Chamberlain Yanagisawa? Did he send you to pin Senior Elder Makino’s murder on me?”

  “No,” said Sano. “I serve only the shogun. I’m sorry to say that I’m here because I’ve found evidence that implicates a member of your clan in the murder.”

  “Which member?” Lord Matsudaira demanded suspiciously. “What evidence?”

  “Your nephew Daiemon,” Sano said. “He visited Senior Elder Makino in his estate the night of the murder.”

  The guards at the estate had confirmed that Daiemon had visited Makino, and they’d seemed to be telling the truth. They’d also said they’d heard the two men arguing. Although Lord Matsudaira’s expression turned stony and impenetrable, Sano sensed his dismay that his nephew had become a murder suspect. Ibe watched Lord Matsudaira with an unpleasant smile that said he enjoyed watching his master’s rival in jeopardy.

  “I smell Chamberlain Yanagisawa in this,” said Lord Matsudaira. “All of Senior Elder Makino’s men are his lackeys. He put them up to incriminating my nephew.”

  “Perhaps,” Sano said. He did wonder if Tamura had acted on his own when telling the story, or on orders from Yanagisawa. “But I’m duty bound to investigate every possible clue. Therefore, I must ask to speak with Daiemon.”

  “Certainly not.” Lord Matsudaira’s tone was defensive as well as adamant. “Daiemon didn’t kill Senior Elder Makino. I won’t have you treat him like a criminal.”

  “If Daiemon is innocent, it would benefit him to tell his side of the story,” Sano said.

  Lord Matsudaira dismissed this idea with a savage cutting motion of his hand. “There’s one side to the story: My enemies are attacking me through Daiemon. You’ll not interrogate him.”

  “For you to forbid me to question him will only make me think you both have something to hide.” Sano knew his words verged on an accusation. He read danger in the look that Lord Matsudaira gave him.

  “I don’t care what you think.” Lord Matsudaira’s steely voice emerged from between lips compressed with rage. “I won’t let you persecute my clan.”

  “Very well,” Sano said. “Then I must tell the shogun that your nephew was at the scene of the crime and you’re shielding him from my investigation. His Excellency can draw his own conclusions about Daiemon.”

  Lord Matsudaira glared in outrage and alarm at Sano. They both knew the shogun rarely drew his own conclusions. In this case, Chamberlain Yanagisawa would hasten to draw them for him. Yanagisawa would do his best to convince the shogun that Daiemon’s presence at the crime scene, and his uncle’s unwillingness to bring him forth, proved he was guilty.

  “You won’t tell the shogun about my nephew,” Lord Matsudaira said. His tone threatened bloody retaliation unless Sano cooperated.

  “If he doesn’t, I will,” Ibe said.

  Lord Matsudaira gave him a contemptuous look, and Sano and Hirata a regretful one. He signaled his attendants. “Persuade them that it’s in their best interest to honor my wishes.”

  The attendants drew their swords on Sano, Hirata, and Ibe. Sano realized that the fight for power had already corrupted Lord Matsudaira. The fair, humane, honorable man he had once been would never have resorted to violence to bend others to his will. As Lord Matsudaira’s men advanced, Sano, Hirata, and Ibe backed away. They instinctively reached for their swords, which the guards had confiscated.

  A youthful male voice said, “Call off your dogs, Honorable Uncle.”

  Sano saw a samurai entering the courtyard. He was in his twenties, with a ruggedly handsome face, a strong, athletic build, and a swaggering gait. He wore his two swords at his waist and an armor tunic and leg guards over his robes. Two attendants followed him, carrying his lance and helmet. Sano recognized him as Daiemon.

  “I’ve been expecting the sōsakan-sama,” Daiemon told Lord Matsudaira, then bowed gallantly to Sano. “I came as soon as I heard you were here. I overheard your conversation with my uncle, and I understand you want to see me. I’ll be happy to speak with you.”

  Surprised by Daiemon’s attitude, Sano looked to Lord Matsudaira. The man said in a warning tone, “Don’t be foolish, Nephew. Go about your business. Let me handle this.”

  “Sometimes a little cooperation works better than threats.” Daiemon’s manner verged on disdain toward Lord Matsudaira’s heavy-handed treatment of Sano. “For me to be open and honest with the sōsakan-sama is the best way to make him believe I’m not the murderer he’s hunting.”

  “I’m trying to protect you,” Lord Matsudaira said, clearly flustered by Daiemon’s willfulness. Sano predicted that if Daiemon did become the next shogun, Lord Matsudaira would find him difficult to control. Sano also wondered how strong Daiemon’s loyalty was to Lord Matsudaira. “Either do as I say, or risk consequences that you’ll regret.”

  “Relax, Uncle.” Daiemon patted the air in a soothing gesture. “I know what I’m doing.” He turned to Sano. “Ask me whatever you like.”

  Lord Matsudaira glowered at them both. Much as Sano hated to offend the uncle, he couldn’t pass up a chance to question the nephew. “Did you visit Senior Elder Makino at his estate the night he was murdered?”

  “Yes, I did,” Daiemon said.

  Sano was disconcerted; he’d expected Daiemon to deny visiting Makino and offer an alibi for that night. “Why did you visit him?”

  “To settle some unfinished business we had,” said Daiemon. “A few months ago, I decided that Senior Elder Makino would be a valuable ally. So I began trying to win him over. He always resisted. But that evening, he sent me an invitation to visit him. When I got there, he tol
d me that he’d made up his mind to join our faction.”

  Amazement struck Sano. He saw shock on Hirata’s and Ibe’s faces.

  “Are you saying that Senior Elder Makino meant to defect from Chamberlain Yanagisawa?” Sano said.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Daiemon said.

  Yet it seemed impossible. Makino and Yanagisawa had been cronies for the entire fourteen years of the shogun’s reign. Not a hint of a rupture between them had Sano ever heard.

  “Makino would never have betrayed my master,” Ibe burst out. “His loyalty was absolute. He wouldn’t have deserted the chamberlain, especially at a time like this!”

  “I regret to disappoint you, but he did.” Daiemon’s callous tone said he wasn’t at all sorry.

  “Why would Makino defect?” Sano said, still disbelieving.

  “I persuaded him that our faction was likely to be the victor in a war against Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” said Daiemon, “and he wanted to be on the winning side.”

  Ibe started to protest, then fell silent. He looked as though his perception of the whole world had changed. Sano realized that Daiemon’s story could also change the course of the murder investigation.

  “So you can see that I had no reason to kill Makino,” said Daiemon. “He wasn’t the enemy any longer. With him on our side, we had a majority on the Council of Elders. He could influence the shogun in our favor. It was in my interest for him to stay alive.”

  If the story were true, Sano thought. “Who besides you was aware that Makino planned to switch sides?”

  “My uncle was,” Daiemon said.

  Sano glanced at Lord Matsudaira, who nodded. Sano realized that he’d known all along that his nephew had been at the crime scene. He’d never denied it.

  “Did anybody else know about the defection?” Sano said.

  Daiemon shook his head. “We meant to keep it a secret.”

  “Why?”

  A sly smile curved Daiemon’s mouth. “It was better that Chamberlain Yanagisawa didn’t know Makino had turned traitor. We wanted to use Makino as a spy in the enemy camp.”

  “Then I have only your word, and your uncle’s, that Makino did betray Chamberlain Yanagisawa and join you,” Sano said.

  Daiemon shrugged, unperturbed by Sano’s hint that he and his uncle had concocted the story. “It’s the truth.”

  “Is it also true that you and Makino had an argument that night?” Sano said, recalling what the guards had told him.

  “Yes,” Daiemon said promptly. “Makino demanded a bribe in exchange for his allegiance. It was more than I wanted to pay. We haggled over the price. Finally we struck a deal.”

  But Sano conjectured that Daiemon could have invented this explanation because he knew about Makino’s obsession with security and had anticipated that a spy in the house would overhear the argument. Maybe Makino had intended to defect, but when Daiemon balked at paying a bribe, Makino had changed his mind. Daiemon wouldn’t have taken kindly the loss of a potential major ally, and he’d have seen the advantage of eliminating Makino. With Makino gone, and Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s influence over the shogun weakened, Daiemon had an even better chance at the succession. The murder of one frail, helpless old man could have ensured his place at the head of the next regime.

  “Then what happened?” Sano asked.

  “We said good night,” Daiemon replied. “I went home.”

  “Did you leave the estate right away?” Sano asked. When Daiemon nodded, he said, “No one there saw you leave.”

  Daiemon chuckled. “I played a little joke on the guards and took a shortcut. There’s a gate in the back wall. It’s small, overgrown with ivy, and barred shut. I doubt if it’s ever used. Probably the guards don’t know it exists. They weren’t watching it that night. I slipped out the gate, with them none the wiser.”

  Sano planned to look for the gate, which he didn’t doubt he would find. He said, “If the guards don’t know about the gate, then how do you?”

  “I grew up in Edo Castle. When I was a boy, I explored every part of it. I amused myself by sneaking into places where I didn’t belong.” Daiemon smiled at his youthful daring. “I’ve been inside most of the estates, including the one you live in now. By the way, you’d better seal up that trapdoor outside the kitchen that leads to the cellar, if you haven’t already.” He laughed at Sano’s disconcerted expression, adding, “I must know Edo Castle better than anyone else does.”

  His knowledge, and talent for stealth, might have come in handy years later. Sano imagined Daiemon sneaking back to the private quarters while Tamura and the guards searched for him, beating Makino to death, then fleeing out his secret escape hatch.

  “There’s evidence that someone broke into Makino’s quarters,” Sano said. If Daiemon had returned to kill Makino, he couldn’t have entered through a door because the guards would have seen him.

  “It wasn’t me,” Daiemon said with brazen nonchalance. “And I didn’t kill Makino. He was alive when I left his estate.”

  “Can anyone vouch for your innocence?” Sano said.

  “No, but you have my word. And my word carries a lot of weight these days.”

  Daiemon’s smug smile alluded to his relationship with the shogun. Sano knew he was no meek sexual slave to his lord but a man who used his body and charm as weapons to get what he wanted.

  “To accuse my nephew of murder would be a big mistake,” Lord Matsudaira said, clearly hinting that the shogun would protect Daiemon and punish Sano for maligning his lover.

  “I may have no choice,” Sano said.

  Honor required him to pursue the investigation no matter what. He’d reached a fork in the path of his inquiries. One branch led to Daiemon and Lord Matsudaira, and a perilous clash with them should his findings implicate them in Makino’s murder. The other branch pointed the way to a new suspect who could be just as dangerous.

  Daiemon grinned. “You’ve got a choice between sticking your neck in front of the executioner’s blade or walking into fire, Sōsakan-sama. Because you and I both know there’s someone besides me who bears investigation. Someone who’d have done anything to keep an ally from defecting—or to punish a traitor.”

  “Betrayal by Makino would give Chamberlain Yanagisawa a motive for murder,” Sano said.

  “It would have put him at a serious disadvantage against the Matsudaira clan,” said Hirata.

  They were walking through the army camp in the Tokugawa enclave, away from Lord Matsudaira’s estate. Otani dogged their heels, while Ibe trailed behind them. Dark gray clouds still blanketed the sky, threatening more rain. Mutters and laughter emanated from soldiers huddled around fires and in tents.

  “Makino’s defection might have cost the chamberlain control of the regime,” Otani hastened to add, removing aspersion from his master by shoveling it upon the enemy.

  “And here I thought that for once Yanagisawa was above suspicion,” Hirata said.

  “My master wasn’t responsible for the murder,” Ibe said, but he spoke with much less conviction than before.

  Glancing backward, Sano noted how shriveled and sick Ibe looked. He must be dreading how his master would react to Daiemon’s insinuations. Yet Sano understood that although things looked bad for Chamberlain Yanagisawa, his role in the murder was debatable.

  “The question of Yanagisawa’s guilt or innocence hinges on two issues,” Sano said. “The first is whether Senior Elder Makino really was going to defect. The second is whether Yanagisawa knew.”

  “If he didn’t know—or if Daiemon lied—then he had no reason to assassinate Makino.” Hope brightened Ibe’s voice. “As far as he knew, Makino was still his ally.”

  “Even if Daiemon told the truth about the defection, he claims it was a secret,” recalled Hirata. “According to him, Yanagisawa couldn’t have known. Yet he wants us to believe that Yanagisawa killed Makino for betraying him.”

  “Daiemon was telling us that although only he, his uncle, and Makino were suppo
sed to be in on the secret, no secrets are safe from Yanagisawa,” said Otani. “But let’s not waste time debating the issue. There’s one way to settle it: Accuse Yanagisawa publicly and hear what he has to say for himself.” Eagerness to ruin the chamberlain blazed in Otani’s eyes.

  “Not yet,” Sano said firmly. “Before I confront Yanagisawa, the theory that Makino planned to defect needs further investigation. Daiemon can’t be trusted, because he’s still a suspect himself. Neither can Lord Matsudaira, because he and his nephew are on the same side. I’ll not have them use me as a cannon to shoot down their rival who may be innocent.”

  Sano reflected that “innocent” was an unapt term to describe Yanagisawa, who was guilty of so much. Still, it would be dishonorable to punish him for a crime he might not have committed. And if Sano was going to take on the powerful Yanagisawa, and break their truce that had protected him for three years, he should prepare himself for a fight to the death.

  “I want to be armed with evidence against Yanagisawa before I walk into fire,” Sano said.

  * * *

  10

  A separate compound within Edo Castle enclosed Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s estate. Guards in watchtowers, and high stone walls topped by sharp spikes, kept out trespassers. The mansion was a labyrinth of interconnected wings surrounded by retainers’ barracks. Deep within its protected center was the private domain of the chamberlain. In his office, where a painted map of Japan covered an entire wall, Yanagisawa sat at his desk on a raised platform. Below the platform knelt two men. One was Kato Kinhide—the shogun’s adviser on national finance, a member of the Council of Elders, and Yanagisawa’s principal crony. The other man was Yanagisawa’s chief retainer, Mori Eigoro.

  “What’s the report on my war treasury?” Yanagisawa said.

  Kato unfurled a scroll on the desk. He had a broad, bland face, with eyes and a mouth like slits in a worn leather mask. “Here is the balance as of today.” He pointed at characters inked on the scroll. “And here are the tributes we expect to receive from our allies.”