The Samurai's Wife Read online

  “Between us, we’ve interviewed all the suspects,” Sano said, “and they all seem equal in terms of opportunity to commit the murder. Emperor Tomohito and Prince Momozono have only each other for an alibi. Attendants in the imperial residence saw them both before the household retired for the night, but not between then and Left Minister Konoe’s death. They might have been in the study hall together, as they claimed—or not.

  “Lady Jokyden says she was alone and heard the spirit cry from outside the summer pavilion. I checked with everyone in the abdicated emperor’s household on the chance that someone might have seen or followed her without her knowledge, but no one did. Lady Asagao lied about her alibi, and I haven’t been able to find out where she was during the murder, which puts her in the same situation as the other suspects.”

  “Not quite,” Reiko said. “Lady Asagao is the only one with a clear motive—by her own admission, she hated the left minister for cutting her allowance and influencing the emperor against her.”

  Sano tied a brocade sash around his waist. “But do you really think Lady Asagao is capable of a spirit cry? From your description of her, I don’t.” Now Sano pinpointed one problem: “In fact, I can’t imagine any of these people as the killer.”

  “Even if Lady Asagao is mentally incapable of mastering the force of kiai and Prince Momozono is physically incapable,” Reiko said, “the emperor is still a possibility, and so is Lady Jokyden. Besides, we can’t eliminate all the suspects on the basis of a hunch.”

  “Yes, you’re right….” Sano sat and pulled white cotton socks onto his feet. “Still, there’s more to my concern than the fact that I’m not satisfied with the suspects. The whole case feels wrong.”

  “Wrong, how?” Reiko said, her expression puzzled.

  Sano stood. “I keep thinking I’m missing something.”

  “But why? What could it be?”

  “I wish I knew.” Sano’s feeling was like an itch whose location shifted when he tried to scratch it.

  Reiko’s face reflected his worry. “What shall we do?”

  “I still have the letters I found in Left Minister Konoe’s house,” Sano said. “Maybe his former wife, Kozeri, is the missing element. I’ll visit her tomorrow. Then there are the fern-leaf coins. Marume and Fukida canvassed the city today with no luck, but they’ll keep trying. Yoriki Hoshina was also supposed to investigate the coins, and I asked him to question the metsuke palace spies and gather information on the suspects, so maybe when I see him at the banquet, he’ll have something to report.”

  Now Sano realized that Hoshina was a factor in his misgivings about the case. He said, “I wonder if the results of Hoshina’s preliminary investigation are accurate.”

  “You think he might be less competent or honest than he seemed at first?” Reiko said.

  “Not necessarily. Maybe people lied to him about where they were during the murder, or what they know.” Fastening his swords at his waist, Sano shook his head in distress. “I may have to restart the investigation from the beginning. Left Minister Konoe may have enemies who’ve managed to conceal their involvement in his death. One of them could be the killer.”

  A flash of inspiration came to Sano. “Maybe the killer removed incriminating evidence from Konoe’s room before I searched it, and that’s why I found so few clues.”

  Rising, Reiko smoothed Sano’s robes and said, “I can try to find out who other suspects might be when I go back to the palace.”

  “But you’ve already spoken with the emperor’s mother and chief consort,” said Sano. He’d been reluctant to risk Reiko’s safety even when he’d thought he’d known who all the suspects were; now, with the possibility of many unknown potential killers at the palace, he really didn’t want Reiko there.

  “Both Lady Jokyden and Lady Asagao have invited me to visit again,” Reiko said. The determination in her voice told Sano how much she wanted to remain a part of the investigation. “Lady Jokyden mentioned that the left minister had enemies among the other nobles. I could find out who they are.”

  “She also knows you’re my spy,” Sano said. “It’s improbable that she’ll reveal any compromising facts about members of the court, and likely that she might try to mislead you. Besides, Jokyden seems the best out of the four suspects we have. If she’s the killer, it’s too dangerous for you to associate with her.” Placing his hands on Reiko’s shoulders, Sano said, “Promise me you’ll stay away from Lady Jokyden.”

  Reiko nodded reluctantly. “If that’s what you really want.” Then she said, “Lady Asagao has no idea why I called on her. Neither of us thinks she’s the murderer, but we can’t drop her from the list of suspects until we know where she was at the time of the murder. Besides, she’s close to Emperor Tomohito, Lady Jokyden, and probably other high-ranking palace residents. She wants me to act in her play, and that’s a perfect opportunity to learn what she knows about the court.”

  Sano couldn’t disagree; nor could he resist the entreaty in Reiko’s voice. “All right,” he said. “Visit Lady Asagao tomorrow, while I interview Lady Kozeri at Kodai Temple.”

  Her smile brimming with gladness and affection, Reiko said, “Don’t worry about me, or the case. Everything will be fine.”

  They embraced, and desire kindled between them. Finally Sano said, “Well, I’d better go, or I’ll be late for the shoshidai’s banquet. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  In Pontoch, an entertainment quarter on the west bank of the Kamo River, star-shaped lanterns adorned the eaves of teahouses and restaurants full of noisy revelers. Music drifted from windows; crowds filled the streets. On this second night of Obon, temple gongs rang continuously. People lowered pine boughs down wells so the spirits could climb up from the netherworld.

  Sano and Detectives Marume and Fukida arrived at a large teahouse guarded by Tokugawa troops. Attendants ushered Sano and his men to an outdoor platform built above the river. Lanterns hung on stands, their colored streamers rustling in the cool breeze. The black water shimmered with reflections of the fading sunset, lights at other teahouses along the embankment, and bonfires lit on the shore to guide the spirits. Laughter rose from the river’s wide stone flanks, where pedestrians strolled. Moving lights traced the arch of the Sanjo Bridge as citizens headed to the hillside cemeteries. The night was redolent with the odors of fish, cooking, and the citrus oil burned to repel mosquitoes.

  A few guests had already assembled for the banquet. When Yoriki Hoshina came over to greet Sano’s party, Sano drew him aside for a quick consultation and asked, “What did you discover this afternoon?”

  “I talked to all the palace spies. No one seems to have paid any attention to Prince Momozono, but Emperor Tomohito’s relationship with Left Minister Konoe was a stormy one,” Hoshina said. “Konoe dominated the emperor with a firm hand. Sometimes the emperor would get furious and throw tantrums; other times, he was docile and virtually worshipped Konoe. As for Lady Jokyden, she and Konoe had an ongoing feud about how to manage the court, and over control of her son. And Konoe made an enemy of Lady Asagao.”

  “That corroborates what I suspected about the emperor, and other evidence besides.” Sano related what Reiko had learned from Asagao and Jokyden. Still, Hoshina’s information offered no new leads. “What about the fern-leaf coin?”

  Hoshina shook his head. “I showed it around the police department, but no one there has ever seen a coin like that before. I’ll start making inquiries in the city tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” Sano tried to sound positive, but disappointment added to the weight of his troubles.

  “May I ask what your plans are for tomorrow?” Hoshina said.

  “I’m going to see Kozeri, while my wife visits Lady Asagao again.”

  Nearby, servants arranged meal trays and cushions on the floor while musicians began playing a cheerful tune on samisen, drum, and flute. On the riverbank below, a bonfire crackled brightly. More guests arrived, and Shoshidai Matsudaira came up to Sano.

  �
�Ah, ssakan-sama. Welcome!” Smiling, he introduced Sano’s party to various local officials, then said, “Come, the banquet is due to begin.”

  The thirty samurai at the shoshidai’s banquet consumed grilled quail garnished with feathers, sliced lily root, turtle soup, sashimi, broiled sea bream, rice, and sweet pickled melon. Afterward, the men performed the ritual of pouring sake for their companions and accepting drinks in return. Toward midnight, when the local officials were very drunk and regaling Sano with hilarious stories, Yoriki Hoshina slipped away and descended a flight of stairs leading to the river. The crowds had vanished. Hoshina hurried along the stone path beside the water, past bonfires that had burned down to ash, glowing embers, and thin smoke, leaving the entertainment quarter.

  Standing with two bodyguards on the balcony of a villa on the river, Chamberlain Yanagisawa saw Hoshina emerge from the darkness and move toward him. His pulse raced with anticipation; the desire he’d suppressed last night stirred anew.

  Hoshina drew near, looked up, and bowed in greeting. “I left the banquet as soon as I could. My apologies if I’ve kept you waiting,” he called.

  “Not at all. Come up.”

  Hoshina climbed the stairs to the balcony. They left the guards outside and entered the house, which was a holiday home borrowed from one of Yanagisawa’s local agents. The cool river breeze filtered through bamboo blinds that covered the windows of a summer parlor bathed in the light of a round lantern. Yanagisawa and Hoshina knelt opposite each other. Yanagisawa could smell Hoshina’s masculine scent of wintergreen hair oil, tobacco smoke, liquor, and sweat. The atmosphere between them felt simultaneously intimate and threatening. As he poured sake from a decanter on a table beside him, Yanagisawa’s hands trembled. He passed Hoshina a cup, careful not to touch the yoriki this time.

  “Well?” he said, meeting Hoshina’s predatory gaze with forced control. “What have you to report?”

  Hoshina described what Sano had done and said that day.

  Nodding in satisfaction, Yanagisawa said, “Sano has saved me the tedious work of investigating the minor suspects. That he hasn’t built a strong case against any of them supports their innocence. What else have you got?”

  “While I was making inquiries around the palace today, I learned a few interesting things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Lady Jokyden has a caller who comes every day at the hour of the sheep. It’s a young man, probably of the merchant class, from the description of his hairstyle and clothes. He brings letters and waits at the palace gate while they’re conveyed to her, then takes her replies away with him.”

  “Who is he?” Yanagisawa asked.

  “He identifies himself as Hiro,” said Hoshina. “No one seems to know who he is. The guards have tried to follow him a few times, but he got away.”

  “What’s in these letters?”

  “No one knows that, either. Jokyden’s chief lady-in-waiting always carries the messages. She’s very loyal to her mistress. If she knows what’s going on, she’s not saying.”

  “Whatever Jokyden is doing may or may not have any relevance to Left Minister Konoe’s murder,” Yanagisawa said thoughtfully. “Assign spies to find out who Hiro is and what those messages say.”

  “Yes, Honorable Chamberlain,” Hoshina said. “What I discovered about Right Minister Ichijo may be more helpful, however. Ichijo leaves the palace about once a month, after dark, alone. Sometimes he stays away for a day or two; sometimes he comes back the same night.”

  “Where does he go?”

  “Again, no one knows.”

  Although Yanagisawa could think of innocuous reasons for a noble to sneak out of the palace at night, Hoshina’s discovery might have serious ramifications for the murder case. “If Ichijo was away at the time of the murder, then he couldn’t have killed Konoe,” Yanagisawa said.

  “I couldn’t find any witnesses who can swear he was in the palace that night,” Hoshina said, “so he may indeed have been gone, but the fact that no one saw him doesn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t there. Even if he did leave, he could have killed Konoe first.”

  “True,” Yanagisawa said. “Ichijo is still the prime suspect, with the strongest motive and a personality that fits the crime.”

  Hoshina mused, “I wonder what Ichijo does that’s so secret he doesn’t want anyone to know?”

  “It might be worth looking into,” Yanagisawa said, “but what interests me most about Ichijo is that he lied to give his daughter an alibi. My guess is that he would go much further to protect her. We can use his motives to trap him and destroy Sano at the same time.”

  “How?” asked Hoshina.

  Yanagisawa described the plan he’d devised.

  “That’s good.” Hoshina gazed at him in frank admiration. “Really brilliant.”

  The spontaneous praise pleased Yanagisawa more than all Aisu’s lavish compliments ever had, and Hoshina was proving to be more competent than Aisu had been lately. It occurred to Yanagisawa that Hoshina might be the new chief retainer he needed.

  “Timing is critical,” Yanagisawa said, refocusing his thoughts on his plan. “What’s Sano’s schedule for tomorrow?”

  “He’s going to see Kozeri in the morning,” Hoshina said.

  “I have agents checking on her, but they haven’t reported in yet. Hopefully, she won’t matter to the case.” Yanagisawa added, “It’s good that Sano won’t be at the Imperial Palace.”

  “However, his wife is going to visit Lady Asagao.”

  “You’ll have to act fast, then.”

  “I’ll start tonight,” Hoshina said. “On my way home, I’ll get what I need, then stop at the police stables.”

  “This has to look just right,” Yanagisawa warned.

  “A little heat should do the trick.” Hoshina smiled, proud of his own ingenuity.

  “The problem is getting inside,” Yanagisawa said. “You shouldn’t attempt it yourself.”

  Hoshina nodded. “I have someone who can do it for me.”

  “But the next step requires your personal attention as well as secrecy,” Yanagisawa said.

  “I’ll use the bakufu chambers in the palace, and send a trusted messenger with the summons. No one else will know I’m there, or what I’m doing.”

  “What Sano will do is predictable,” Yanagisawa said, “but the question is when he’ll do it. Send hourly status reports to me at Nij Castle. We’ll have to be ready to act immediately, or wait indefinitely. However, my guess is that we’ll have results within a day or so. Then we can set up the final phase of the plan.”

  “Yes, Honorable Chamberlain,” said Hoshina.

  “Until tomorrow, then,” Yanagisawa said, rising.

  Hoshina also rose, but instead of taking his cue to leave, he said, “Unless there’s something more I can do for you tonight?”

  His tone was husky with sexual invitation, his full mouth not quite smiling. That he should attempt seduction again, after last night’s rejection! His nerve both offended and excited Yanagisawa. Of equal height, they stood face to face; Yanagisawa met Hoshina’s stare without looking down. Their mutual desire was like a third presence in the room, charging the air. Yet Yanagisawa also sensed that this was different from the sexual dalliances of the past, and not only because Hoshina differed from his former partners.

  He wanted more from Hoshina than sex, though he couldn’t have said exactly what. A need greater than lust deepened the void he’d carried inside him since the death of Shichisabur. And the need frightened him, because need represented weakness; it gave other men power over him. Now Yanagisawa’s fear turned to anger at Hoshina.

  “Do you think of me as a rung in your ladder to power?” he demanded. “Would you use me the way you did Shoshidai Matsudaira?” From Hoshina’s dossier, Yanagisawa knew that Hoshina had achieved his position by seducing the shoshidai and taking advantage of the malleable older man. Yanagisawa also knew that Hoshina’s career, forged on looks, wits, and sex, had begun some twenty-fi
ve years ago. “Or do you confuse me with Arima Nagisa, Miyako inspector of buildings?”

  Hoshina flinched, as if Yanagisawa had struck him. “So you know all about me,” he said with a forced laugh. “Well, mine is a common story, isn’t it?”

  But something had broken in his gaze. In it, Yanagisawa saw the misery of the eight-year-old Hoshina, apprenticed to Inspector Arima, who’d used him sexually and then passed him around to other men. At age sixteen, Hoshina had become the paramour of the Miyako chief police commissioner and worked his way up to the rank of yoriki before attracting the shoshidai’s attention. But as Yanagisawa saw through Hoshina, his own eyes must have revealed something inside himself, because Hoshina’s expression turned to one of wonder.

  “Yes, it is a common story.” Hoshina answered his own question in a voice hushed with dawning comprehension.

  Yanagisawa had never revealed his own past to anyone; he’d suppressed the history of his apprenticeship to the daimyo his clan had once served, threatening death to anyone who gossiped about him. Therefore, his boyhood of forced sex and cruel discipline at the mercy of Lord Takei weren’t common knowledge. He could tell that Hoshina hadn’t known, until now. In samurai culture, where stoicism was the rule, men didn’t talk of personal matters. Now Yanagisawa felt naked before Hoshina.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” he ordered. “Keep your distance. Show some respect!”

  “A thousand pardons.” Hoshina stepped backward, but his gaze held Yanagisawa’s.

  As on the previous night, something passed between them—a strange, piercing current that gave Yanagisawa pleasure and pain in equal measures. He heard Hoshina’s quick intake of breath at the sensation, and instinctively knew what else he and Hoshina had in common.

  While many men had similar experiences in this world that exalted manly love and exploited the weak, Yanagisawa had never imagined that anyone ever suffered as he had. Now he understood that Hoshina also knew the pain, shame, and rage. The same emotions had shaped both their lives.