Sano Ichiro 9 The Perfumed Sleeve (2004)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “Did you see him meet a woman?” Reiko asked.

  “No,” Hachiro said. “I had a drink and waited a few moments. Then I saw a samurai on horseback gallop down the street. He went by me so fast, I couldn’t see him clearly. I thought he was Daiemon. I didn’t know until the next morning that he’d never left the house alive. I thought maybe he’d decided not to stay, and he’d gone out a side door, gotten his horse, and was heading back to Edo Castle. I would have followed him, but just then a woman came out of the house.”

  Hachiro squinted, peering into space, as he must have done while observing the woman emerge. “She was wearing a dark cloak, and a dark shawl that covered her head and face. She hurried over to a palanquin that was standing down the street. She climbed inside, and the bearers carried her away. I had a hunch that she was the woman Daiemon had come to meet.”

  Reiko saw Gosechi close her eyes as if in pain: She must have been hoping desperately that her suspicions had misled her and there had been no other woman in Daiemon’s life. But Reiko was hoping the woman would turn out to be a valuable witness.

  “I wanted to find out who the woman was,” Hachiro said, “so I got on my horse and rode after her.”

  “Where did she go?” Reiko said eagerly.

  “To Edo Castle. The guards at the gate let her right in. I followed her to Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s compound.”

  Reiko felt shock and amazement catch her breath. She’d connected the chamberlain with the murder! The woman seen leaving the Sign of Bedazzlement must have been sent by Yanagisawa to assassinate Daiemon. Probably she wasn’t a woman at all but one of Yanagisawa’s men dressed in female garb. Yanagisawa must have found out that Daiemon was having an affair with Gosechi and where they went to tryst. He must have seen a perfect opportunity to strike at the rival faction.

  “How did you and Daiemon arrange your meetings?” Reiko asked Gosechi.

  “Whenever I knew that Lord Matsudaira would be busy and he wouldn’t want my company at night, I would send Hachiro to slip a piece of red paper under Daiemon’s door,” said Gosechi. The bodyguard hung his head, sheepish at his role as go-between. “I would travel that evening to the Sign of Bedazzlement. Daiemon would come to me.”

  Yanagisawa must have learned their habit, Reiko deduced. A spy he’d employed in the Matsudaira house must have given Daiemon the signal to meet Gosechi that evening. Unaware that she was spending the night with Lord Matsudaira, Daiemon must have gone to the Sign of Bedazzlement expecting amorous pleasure, only to find Yanagisawa’s assassin lying in wait.

  “Did you ever get another look at the woman?” Reiko said, although without much expectation that Hachiro had.

  “Yes,” Hachiro said. “When her palanquin went in Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s compound, the guards were slow to shut the gate. I rode up and looked inside. There were torches lit in the courtyard. A little girl jumped out of the palanquin and ran off. A woman climbed out and followed her. That’s all I saw because the gate closed then. But I heard the woman call, ‘Kikuko, wait for me,’ and the little girl call, ‘Hurry up, Mama.’ ”

  His words collided against a wall of disbelief and astonishment inside Reiko. Her heart began to thunder with excitement. As far as she knew, there was only one little girl named Kikuko who lived in Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s compound. And there was only one woman whom Kikuko called “Mama.”

  It was Lady Yanagisawa who’d left the Sign of Bedazzlement soon after Daiemon had arrived.

  “Merciful gods,” Reiko said as she clutched the wall for support.

  “What’s wrong? Who is the woman?” Gosechi cried, her face avid with fearful curiosity. “I can see that you recognize her. I thought I didn’t want to know, but now I must, so I can see her and understand why Daiemon wanted her instead of me. Please tell me who she is!”

  “I can’t tell you,” Reiko said, for innate caution warned her to keep her discovery to herself at least until she’d decided what to do about it. Fortunately, neither Gosechi nor Hachiro had guessed Lady Yanagisawa’s identity. Lady Yanagisawa seldom ventured into society, and few people knew that the chamberlain had a daughter because he was ashamed of her.

  “But I can assure you that this woman wasn’t having an affair with Daiemon. She didn’t go to the Sign of Bedazzlement to make love to him.”

  There could be no other explanation: Lady Yanagisawa had gone to assassinate Daiemon, on the chamberlain’s orders. Lady Yanagisawa had no lover to meet in secret. She cared nothing for any man except her husband. And she would do anything to please him.

  A chill of horror descended upon Reiko. Lady Yanagisawa was even more mad, desperate, and cunning than Reiko had ever suspected. Blackmailing Reiko was the least of the evils that Lady Yanagisawa had recently done. She’d stabbed Daiemon to death, thereby ridding her husband of a rival, weakening the Matsudaira faction, and clearing the way for the chamberlain’s son to inherit the Tokugawa regime and become the next shogun.

  Gosechi, Hachiro, and her surroundings faded from Reiko’s perception as she marveled at what Lady Yanagisawa had done. The sound of gongs and chanting barely impinged on her consciousness. Yet even though revolted by Lady Yanagisawa’s crime, Reiko realized that her own luck had turned. Exhilaration dazzled her, for Lady Yanagisawa had unwittingly rendered herself vulnerable to a counterattack.

  “Thank you for your help,” she told Gosechi and Hachiro. “Excuse me, but I must go.”

  She left them gazing after her in puzzlement and hurried out of the temple hall. Her palanquin and entourage waited amid the crowds in the precinct. As Reiko jumped into the palanquin, she ordered her bearers, “Take me to Edo Castle.”

  There she would have her final confrontation with Lady Yanagisawa.

  * * *

  33

  At Senior Elder Makino’s estate, Hirata led Okitsu into the chapel where Sano waited with Agemaki and his watchdogs. “I found her hiding in the coal storehouse,” Hirata said.

  Some two hours had passed since Sano had told his detectives to bring Okitsu to him for interrogation. They’d discovered that the concubine was missing, presumably because she’d heard that Sano had come back and she’d run for her life. Now, as Hirata propelled her toward him, Sano saw that her face and clothes were smudged black with coal dust. Her terrified gaze lit on Agemaki, who knelt where Sano had forced her to confess her actions the night of Senior Elder Makino’s murder. Agemaki had calmed herself, but her poise looked brittle and thin, like ice near a fire. Okitsu ran to her and collapsed beside her.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Okitsu whimpered, clutching Agemaki’s arm. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

  Agemaki pulled away from Okitsu. She brushed grime from Okitsu’s hands off her sleeve. The concubine stared at her, then everyone else, in uncomprehending fright.

  “Every time I’ve talked to you about Senior Elder Makino’s murder, you’ve lied to me,” Sano said. “Now is your last chance to tell the truth.”

  “But I—I did tell the truth,” Okitsu said breathlessly. “I was with Koheiji that night… we didn’t see Makino.” Her forehead wrinkled and her eyes darted as she tried to remember everything she’d said. “I saw Daiemon in the study.”

  “You lied,” Agemaki said in a voice that dripped acid. “You and Koheiji were playing games with my husband. I heard you. I saw you. And I told them.” She flung out her hand, indicating Sano, Hirata, and the watchdogs.

  Okitsu turned to Agemaki. Her expression displayed confusion, then hurt. “You told them? But how could you? I thought you were my friend.”

  “I’m not.” Agemaki snarled. “Only someone as stupid as you are would think I could like a woman who stole my husband.” While Okitsu shrank away, as though struck a wounding blow, Agemaki said, “Well, your fun is over. These people know that Koheiji was hired to assassinate Makino. They think you helped. I can’t wait to watch you lose your head at the execution ground. I’ll laugh while you die, you dirty little whore!”

 
A mewl arose from Okitsu. “Please, please spare me,” she begged Sano, throwing herself on hands and knees in front of him. “Koheiji and I didn’t kill Makino. We’re innocent. You must believe me!”

  “If you expect me to believe you, then you have a lot of explaining to do,” Sano said. “Begin with the sex show that you and Koheiji performed for your master.”

  Okitsu scuttled away on all fours. “I can’t!” she cried. “I promised Koheiji I wouldn’t tell.”

  “That you lie to the shogun’s detective for Koheiji shows what a fool you are,” Agemaki said with withering disdain. “He doesn’t love you. He’ll never marry you. He’s just leading you on so you’ll protect him.”

  “You’re wrong! He does love me! We are getting married!” Okitsu reared back on her heels as she shouted at Agemaki.

  “I caught him making love to a woman in his dressing room at the theater,” Hirata said.

  “No! He didn’t! He wouldn’t!” But the quaver in Okitsu’s voice belied her defiant words.

  “Koheiji is due to take the punishment for Senior Elder Makino’s murder,” Sano said. “Unless you want to share it with him, you’d better start talking.”

  For a moment Okitsu sat silent, her face bunched into a pout. Then she wilted under the knowledge that her friends had betrayed her and she was on her own. She uttered a querulous sob.

  “You and Koheiji performed for Makino that night…” Sano prompted.

  Okitsu nodded. “We did our usual routine,” she said in a weary, toneless mumble. “I gave Makino some cornus berry tea.” This was a potent aphrodisiac. “Then he watched Koheiji and me while we undressed and started making love. Pretty soon he joined in with us.”

  Sano imagined Makino eagerly sipping the aphrodisiac, watching the amorous couple, then the grotesque entwining of sleek young bodies and the wrinkled, emaciated one.

  “But Makino couldn’t get excited,” Okitsu said. “No matter what we did, he stayed limp as a dead worm. Koheiji even tried playing rough. He tore my clothes off me and tied my wrists and pretended to hit me. That usually got Makino going, but this time it didn’t. He asked for more cornus berry tea. I gave it to him. We started the game again. I sucked on Makino while Koheiji took me from behind.”

  She spoke without shame, as if discussing the weather. Sano recognized the scene Agemaki had told him she’d witnessed while spying on the trio.

  “Pretty soon, Makino was as hard as iron,” Okitsu continued. “He said he was ready. Koheiji lay down on the bed. I got on top of him and took him into me. Makino stuck himself in my backside.” Okitsu leaned forward, knees apart, balancing on her hands, and unconsciously pantomimed the mating. “Makino went wild. He was moaning and ramming me so hard and fast that it hurt. All of a sudden, he made a sound like he was choking. Then he fell on top of me.” Okitsu dropped flat on the floor, her voice and expression conveying the surprise she must have felt when crushed between her two partners. “Koheiji said, ‘What happened?’ We pushed Makino off us. He flopped onto the bed. We sat up and looked at him.”

  Okitsu suited action to words. Sano pictured Koheiji beside her, both of them gazing in puzzlement upon their inert master. “He didn’t move,” Okitsu said. “There was spit oozing out of his mouth. His eyes were open, but they had a sort of empty look. Koheiji called his name, but he didn’t answer. I shook him, but nothing happened. Koheiji said, ‘He’s dead.’ ”

  Sano heard in her voice the echo of Koheiji’s, replete with horror. Amazement filled Sano. If she was telling the truth—and he thought she was this time—then this death he’d been investigating wasn’t a murder. Makino hadn’t died by foul play, a victim of his enemies, as his letter had claimed. Nor had Daiemon hired Koheiji to kill him. Someone had planted the note in Daiemon’s secret quarters and the story at the Floating Teahouse to make Daiemon appear responsible for Makino’s death. And Sano could guess who. Chamberlain Yanagisawa, with all his spies, must have discovered the secret quarters. The scheme to incriminate his enemy fit his devious nature. He must have expected Sano to find the false evidence during the course of the investigation. Sano was certain that if he hadn’t, Yanagisawa would have devised an alternate plan for bringing the note to light. But Yanagisawa couldn’t have known that his false evidence would lead Sano to the truth.

  “I thought Makino had died because he’d strained himself too hard,” Okitsu said. “Koheiji said it was the extra cornus berry tea.”

  Or perhaps his death had resulted from a convulsion due to both aphrodisiac poisoning and strenuous sex, Sano conjectured.

  “But we didn’t kill him,” Okitsu said, hysterical with her need to convince. “We didn’t mean to hurt him. It was an accident!”

  Relief showed on Otani’s face, and chagrin on Ibe’s. Hirata looked disappointed. Agemaki beheld Okitsu with loathing, obviously upset that her husband’s death wasn’t her rival’s fault. Sano shook his head. That the investigation should turn out like this! He’d crossed Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and risked his wife and son’s safety, all because Senior Elder Makino had succumbed to his own lust. Yet the investigation wasn’t over. A gap in the story divided the moment of Makino’s demise and the instant when Agemaki had found his corpse in the study.

  “What happened after you discovered that Makino was dead?” Sano asked Okitsu.

  “I told Koheiji that we should get help, we should tell someone,” Okitsu said. “But Koheiji said, ‘No! We can’t!’ " She grabbed her arm, as he must have done. “He said there was nothing anyone could do to save Makino. He said people might blame us for Makino dying. We could be put to death.” Her eyes grew round with the fear Koheiji had instilled in her. “I said, ‘What shall we do?’ Koheiji said he had an idea. He told me to get dressed fast. The sleeve of my kimono had gotten torn off during our game, and he wiped himself on it before he put on his clothes.”

  Sano saw the actor carelessly tossing aside the sleeve, which would later turn up in Makino’s bedding.

  “Then he told me to help him dress Makino.” Okitsu shivered and grimaced. “It was weird, like dressing a big doll. Afterward, we moved him to the study. You wouldn’t think a skinny old man like him could be so heavy, but it took both of us to carry him. We laid him on the floor. Koheiji broke the window latch. He said that would look as if someone had sneaked into the house and killed Makino. Then he ran outside and trampled the bushes.”

  That explained who had planted the signs of an intruder and why, Sano noted.

  “When he came back, he brought a wooden pole,” Okitsu said. “He told me to mess up the room. While I was throwing papers and books around"—Okitsu winced—“Koheiji was hitting Makino with the pole, to make it look like he’d been beaten to death.”

  Sano wondered if, when Makino had written his letter, he had considered the possibility that his death would result from a natural or accidental cause rather than assassination. Probably he had. Makino had been an opportunist who must have viewed his own inevitable death as a final opportunity to exploit, a last chance to make trouble for the enemies he left behind. A murder investigation by Sano would have suited his purpose. He’d have relished the thought of his enemies harassed and persecuted as suspects, even if nobody was ever punished for his death because it turned out not to be a murder. He couldn’t have known that his death would involve his sexual games and the suspects would include his two partners.

  “Koheiji hit Makino’s head. It bled all over the floor,” Okitsu said.

  Her words reminded Sano of what he’d learned while examining corpses with Dr. Ito at Edo Morgue. He also remembered the bruises they’d found on Makino’s corpse. His idea of what had happened to Makino, which had changed time after time throughout his inquiries, suddenly shifted again.

  “Koheiji put out the lanterns in Makino’s chambers,” Okitsu said. “He took me to his room. He said we should stay there until morning, and if anyone asked, we should say we’d been together the whole night and we hadn’t been near Mak
ino at all. I said, ‘What if Agemaki heard us? She’ll know we’re lying.’ ”

  Okitsu gave Agemaki a peevish look. Agemaki smirked. Okitsu said, “Koheiji told me not to worry about her because he could keep her quiet. So we did as he said. We pretended we didn’t know how Makino died. Later, Koheiji told me to say I’d seen Daiemon in the study.” She lifted her clasped hands, then let them plop apart on her lap. Disillusionment and tears clouded her charcoal-grimed face. “Things didn’t work out the way we planned. But we didn’t kill Makino.” She addressed Sano in a timid, pleading voice: “I swear it’s the truth.”

  Hirata, Ibe, and Otani nodded, accepting Okitsu’s confession. But although Sano believed that she’d finally revealed all she knew—and she truly believed all she’d said—Makino hadn’t died the way Okitsu claimed. She and Koheiji weren’t as innocent as she thought.

  “Makino’s death was nothing but an accident brought about by his own lust,” Otani said with relief. “And Daiemon didn’t conspire to assassinate him. Lord Matsudaira will be glad to know that he and his clan are no longer under suspicion.”

  “Because Makino wasn’t murdered,” Ibe said, disgruntled. “The investigation has proved that no one is guilty.”

  “I disagree,” Sano said. “Makino didn’t die when he collapsed during the game. He was alive until Koheiji hit him with the pole. The dead don’t bleed.” Nor do their bodies bruise when struck. “He must have had a fit and passed out while having sex. Koheiji’s beating finished him off.”

  Okitsu gasped. “I didn’t know,” she wailed. “I thought he was already dead!”

  Otani blew out his breath through pursed lips with an expression that said, What next? A smile glimmered around Agemaki’s mouth. “So Koheiji did do it,” she said triumphantly. “And Okitsu helped him cover up what happened. I told you she was an accomplice. I was right.”

  “Makino’s death was murder after all,” Ibe said in a tone of stunned comprehension.