The Samurai's Wife Part 23

"I can guess," Sano said contritely, "and I beg you to forgive me."

His touch suddenly seemed repugnant to Reiko, his apology spurious. She pounded him with her fists, shouting, "Forgive you? Never! What you did was terrible and cruel."

Sano looked stricken, then sad. "I deserve every bit of your anger. Please believe that I am truly sorry."

"That's not good enough!"

Reiko jumped to her feet and bolted away. Sano chased her. He locked her in an unrelenting embrace. She struggled to break free, screaming, "Go away! Leave me alone!" Then her anger dissolved into weeping; he held her tight.

"Shh," he said, stroking her hair. "It's all right."

He eased her onto the floor, lying beside her. The warm pressure of his body ignited fierce desire in Reiko. She moaned, arching against him, and felt the hardness in his groin. Then they were tearing away garments, entwining in the dim bands of light from the windows. After the wild coupling that overwhelmed them both with pleasure, they lay still in a sweaty tangle of limbs and clothing. Bars of waning light striped their bodies; incense smoke drifted in on the cooling breeze.

Sano touched Reiko's check. "Can you possibly forgive me?" he said softly.

Her body had already forgiven him; eventually, her heart would too. Basking in physical and spiritual well-being, Reiko murmured, "I never thought that love with a dead husband would be so good."

They laughed at her joke, and she saw relief in Sano's eyes. The joy of having him back was almost worth her ordeal.

There was a commotion outside, then a knock at the door. "Honorable Lady Reiko, are you in there?" called f.u.kida's voice.

Rising, Sano donned his kimono and went to the door. He opened it a crack.

"Oh, good, you're back, Sosakan-sama." Despite the relief in his voice, f.u.kida looked frantic with worry. The guards and Reiko's maids stood in an anxious group behind him. "I regret to say that I've failed in my duty to protect your wife. She left the inn without telling anyone. We've all been out searching for her, but we couldn't find her."

"She's here," Sano said. "It's all right." He dismissed his staff, shut the door, and turned to Reiko. She was sitting up, wrapped in her white under-robe, uneasily watching him.

"Maybe now you'll tell me where you've been," Sano said.

"I went to the palace to ask Lady Jokyoden to help me solve the murder case," Reiko said.

"What?" Sano exclaimed in alarm. "You saw Jokyoden, after you promised me you would stay away from her?"

"Yes, because I didn't know you were still around to care about promises," Reiko said defensively. "It seemed more important to find your killer and avenge your death."

Sano realized that he should have expected Reiko to behave this way; not even his death would quell her determined spirit. Now he was disturbed to learn that his short absence had been too long to leave Reiko on her own.

"Are you mad?" he said, standing over her. "Didn't you see that the second murder reduced the number of suspects and made Jokyoden even more likely to be the killer? Didn't you recognize the danger of a.s.sociating with her?"

"Of course I did. But the risk was worth it." Rising, Reiko walked to the table, picked up her embroidered silk purse, and removed a fragment of paper, which she handed to Sano. "I found this in a house that Left Minister Konoe owned in the textile district."

As she described the house, how she'd gotten there, and her idea that Konoe had used it for espionage, Sano barely glanced at the words on the paper. He said, "Lady Jokyoden took you to this place?"

Vexation crossed Reiko's features. "We weren't alone. I brought my guards with us. Please give me credit for some intelligence."

"You believed what Lady Jokyoden told you about Left Minister Konoe purchasing the house? How did she know, anyway?"

"She didn't say."

An evasive note in Reiko's voice signaled a lie. For the sake of peace, Sano chose to overlook it for the moment. "Look, I know you were upset and not thinking clearly, but even so, you should have known better than to trust a murder suspect. So far, there's no evidence except Jokyoden's word that the house belonged to Konoe, or that this paper is his. Jokyoden might have been misleading you to divert suspicion away from herself."

"Well, yes, I was upset. Whose fault was that?" Reiko said sarcastically. "I did consider the problems you mentioned, but there must be a way to verify that Konoe owned the house and wrote the note. Besides, what I discovered next proves that it doesn't matter whether or not I was thinking clearly, or what Jokyoden's motives were for taking me to the house. I thought the note referred to spying that Konoe did on Lord Ibe. So I went there, and-"

"Wait." Sano held up his hands. He had an ominous feeling that he was going to hear something else he wouldn't like. "Slow down. You went where?"

"To the daimyo's house in the cloth dyers' district," Reiko said patiently. "Lady Jokyoden gave me directions."

"She did, did she?" When Sano had met Jokyoden, he'd thought her arrogant and contrary; now he liked her even less for abetting his wife's misadventures.

"I asked f.u.kida-san to go with me," Reiko said, "but he wouldn't. He even took away my palanquin and guards. I realize now that he wanted to wait for you to come back before doing anything, but at the time I thought he was ignoring an important clue. So I went alone."

Horror filled Sano. "You walked across town by yourself?" If he'd known what she would do, he would have risked letting her know the truth about his faked death. "Didn't you think of what might have happened to you?"

"Nothing did, so there's no need to worry now." Reiko hesitated, then said, "I met a rough-looking man at Lord Ibe's house. He wouldn't answer my questions, and I was suspicious, so 1 sneaked through the back door for a look inside."

She spoke as if she'd done the most reasonable thing in the world. Sano stared, dumbstruck.

"And guess what I found!" Animated with excitement, Reiko described an a.r.s.enal of weapons and a gang of samurai, gangsters, peasant ruffians, and an armed priest.

Sano was too upset by her daring to think about the implications of her discovery. He shouted, "I can't believe you did that! You could have been killed! That was the most stupid, reckless, thoughtless, dangerous, foolhardy-"

"And the most important piece of evidence yet," Reiko said.

"You shouldn't have done it!"

"What's done is done. Now please stop yelling and consider what this means to the case."

"First I want you to promise you'll never do such a thing again," Sano said.

"Only if you'll promise never again to trick me into thinking you're dead."

This was one of those times when Sano longed for a traditional marriage where the husband set the rules and the wife obeyed them, instead of this constant negotiation. "All right, I promise," he said. "Do you?"

"Yes," Reiko said, then hurried on: "I believe the gang is plotting to overthrow the Tokugawa regime, and that someone in the Imperial Court is behind the plot. One of the murder suspects must be arming troops in preparation to restore power to the emperor. Left Minister Konoe must have found out, and the murderer killed him to prevent him from telling the authorities."

Sano saw the logic of her reasoning, and the new political element in the case disturbed him, but he strove for objectivity. "That's quite a leap to make from a few scribbled notes, a few troublemakers, and a few guns."

"There were more than just a few guns," Reiko said, "and the size of the a.r.s.enal means there must be hundreds, even thousands of troublemakers involved in the plot. They could launch a full-scale siege of Miyako at any moment." She grasped Sano's hands. "You must do something immediately."

"Of course I'll investigate the situation," Sano said. "Any potential threat against the regime must be taken seriously. But let's not jump to conclusions. You were in the house for only a short time, while you were under severe emotional stress. Maybe there weren't as many weapons as you thought; maybe you misinterpreted what the men said."

"I know what I saw and heard," Reiko said stubbornly. "If you don't arrest those men and seize the a.r.s.enal, there could be a revolt that turns into nationwide civil war. Entire provinces could fall under rebel control before the bakufu has time to mount an effective defense. Eventually, war could reach Edo."

"That's a distinct possibility." While Sano could think of arguments against the theory, he hesitated to raise them lest he reawaken Reiko's hurt and resentment over his deception. "Therefore, I have to proceed with caution. A revolt goes beyond the scope of the murder investigation. I must inform the shoshidai and Chamberlain Yanagisawa."

"Soon, I hope?" Reiko said.

"Tonight." Instead of the evening of rest that he'd wanted, Sano antic.i.p.ated hours of secret meetings. "And tomorrow I'll begin looking for the instigator of the plot at the Imperial Palace."

20.

At dawn, a brisk wind rattled the window blinds, awakening Sano in his room at Nijo Manor. He smelled smoke, heard bells clanging, and bolted up in bed, heart pounding as he recalled a fire that had almost claimed his life. But the inn was quiet except for the ordinary noises of guests rising. Sano washed and dressed. Leaving Reiko asleep, he took his morning meal with his detectives in their rooms and gave them their orders for the day. Then he rode to the Imperial Palace.

Smoke hovered over Miyako, adding an acrid pall to the hazy, oppressive heat. From newssellers who hawked broadsheets, Sano learned that the wind had blown down some Obon lanterns and started a fire that had spread across the southern part of town. Nervous citizens kept watch for more fires. Sano's own mood was troubled as he recalled his meeting with Shoshidai Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa at Nijo Castle last night, when he'd told them about the outlaws and guns at Lord Ibe's house.

At first, Yanagisawa had scoffed at the possibility of an imperial restoration attempt. "The court is powerless. How could they dare to attack the bakufu?"

"It's happened before," Sano said, prepared to counter the objections that had occurred to him when Reiko had broached the idea. "Four hundred and seventy years ago, Emperor Go-Toba tried to overthrow the Kamakura dictatorship with the help of militant monks and rebellious samurai clans."

"I'm familiar with history," Yanagisawa said. "Go-Toba's coup failed. So did the one led by Emperor Go-Daigo two hundred years later. Although he managed to seize control, his reign lasted only a short time. I doubt that the Tokugawa regime is in any danger from his descendants now."

"Indeed," the shoshidai murmured.

"I agree that those attempts were futile," Sano said. "My point is that someone did try. And Emperor Go-Daigo's coup eventually resulted in a shift of power to a new regime. This could happen again, if the revolt spreads and the daimyo unite against the Tokugawa. Miyako is a good starting place for civil war. It's far from the shogun's forces in Edo, and the emperor is a natural rallying point for malcontents seeking a new leader. Left Minister Konoe must have realized all this. An armed insurrection against the bakufu is high treason-punishable by death for everyone involved, plus their families and a.s.sociates. Therefore, Konoe had to be eliminated before he could report his discovery."

Yanagisawa frowned, and Sano knew he wanted to disagree for the sake of disagreeing. He must hate having Sano inform him about a development that he hadn't managed to discover himself. Nevertheless, Yanagisawa couldn't ignore any threat against the regime he controlled, no matter how little he liked acting on Sano's recommendation.

"I'll handle the situation at Lord Ibe's house," Yanagisawa said.

"My troops are at your service," said the shoshidai, clearly glad that he wouldn't have to take charge himself.

Sano hoped that the task would keep Yanagisawa too busy to cause new troubles for him, but he doubted it. He feared that he would live to regret his strange partnership with the chamberlain.

Now a party of n.o.bles conveyed Sano into the palace. Courtiers huddled along the pa.s.sages of the kuge quarter, conversing in whispers. They fell silent and bowed as Sano pa.s.sed. Seeing the animosity in their eyes, he presumed they were discussing the murder, the false report of his death, and the arrest of Lady Asagao. Obviously no one wanted him here. Yet antic.i.p.ation lifted Sano's mood. The discovery of the a.r.s.enal and outlaw gang gave him a new chance to solve the case.

At Right Minister Ichijo's estate, attendants had gathered in the courtyard. Down the stairs of the mansion came Ichijo, dressed in a formal black cap and robes and leaning on an ebony cane. When he saw Sano, he halted on the bottom step.

"Congratulations on your miraculous return to the world of the living, Sosakan-sama," he said, bowing with stiff dignity that bespoke his displeasure at Sano's arrival. "Forgive me if I haven't time to receive you, but I must go to my daughter. She is home now, but quite upset from her ordeal."

Sano braced himself for a dangerous, difficult interview. The murderer had already killed one Tokugawa retainer, and antagonizing a suspect might provoke another attack. In addition, Sano had unintentionally created bad blood between the bakufu and the Imperial Court.

"I beg your pardon for my treatment of the honorable Lady Asagao," Sano said, forced to grovel for the mistake connived by Chamberlain Yanagisawa. "Please accept my sincere apologies."

Ichijo looked slightly mollified. "Thank you for freeing my daughter." With a trace of waspishness, he added, "Of course, freedom is no more than Lady Asagao's due. Certainly she has been exonerated."

"Yes, she has," Sano said, "and I won't delay you long, but I must ask you some questions."

"Such as?"

"Where were you during the murder the night before last?"

Shaking his head in annoyance, Ichijo walked past Sano. "My activities are none of your concern, since I was never under suspicion for Left Minister Konoe's murder, and therefore not for this one, which was obviously committed by the same person."

"I've spoken with Chamberlain Yanagisawa. He supplied information that changes your situation."

Sano watched Ichijo halt, and saw the wary look on his face as he reluctantly turned. Ichijo had seemed surprised not to be questioned about Konoe's murder, Sano recalled, and loitered around during the inquiries in the palace. He must have wondered why he hadn't been targeted as a suspect. After his interrogation by Yanagisawa, he'd probably lived in fear for his life. Now Sano could see the crafty old politician marshaling his defense.

"I was here at home, asleep, when the scream woke me," Ichijo said. "Soon afterward a servant came to tell me there had been another death. My household can verify that."

Observing the closed faces of Ichijo's staff, Sano knew these men would lie to protect Ichijo from the despised bakufu.

"Before the second murder, you received a message that I would be in the palace that night," Sano said.

"Yes." Ichijo tapped his cane on a paving stone. He scrutinized Sano with shrewd calculation.

"But you did nothing about it?"

Ichijo gave Sano a sour smile. "I disdain anonymous communications and therefore ignored this one. I've been informed that similar messages were delivered to Lady Jokyoden, Prince Momozono, and the emperor. I spoke with them this morning and learned that they, too, ignored the messages."

"I see." Sano felt vexed at Ichijo, who had surely advised the other suspects to claim they'd disregarded the opportunity to attack him, thereby protecting themselves and obstructing his investigation.

"If you've finished, I shall be going," Ichijo said.

"Not just yet." Hastened into blunt speech, Sano said, "Your daughter has been exonerated, but you're still a suspect. You and Left Minister Konoe were rivals for the post of prime minister. My arresting Lady Asagao gave you reason to want me dead, and killing me while she was imprisoned would clear her."

Anger bared Ichijo's blackened teeth; his thin hand gripped the gold handle of his cane. In a cutting voice he said, "Even if you disregard my alibi, do you really think I have the power to kill with a scream?"

"Perhaps we should talk about that in private," Sano said, "along with some other matters that you might not care to discuss out here."

He saw a flash of apprehension in Ichijo's eyes: Whether guilty of murder or not, Ichijo had something to hide. Then, with a martyred expression, the right minister led Sano into the mansion and to his office.

"Now that we're alone," he said, "what did you wish to discuss with me?"

Sano reminded himself that Yanagisawa had picked Ichijo as his prime suspect. With all Sano's fighting skill, he was defenseless against the power of kiai. If Ichijo had that ability, Sano courted death during every moment spent with the right minister. A current of fear ran through Sano as he circled the room, examining the paintings on the walls. The first panel showed a garden where wisteria vines draped an arbor, under which stood two men, both wearing the costumes of a thousand years ago.

"Nakatomi Kamatari," Sano said, pointing to the older man in the painting. "Your ancestor. And the young man is Naka-no-Oye, an imperial prince and disgruntled member of the Soga clan, which once dominated the court. The two plotted to oust the Soga and seize power. When they succeeded, the prince became emperor. Kamatari took the new name Fujiwara-wisteria-in memory of the garden where they conspired. As the emperor's mentor, he won great power for his clan. For some five hundred years afterward, the Fujiwara ruled j.a.pan from behind the throne."

"I am impressed by your knowledge of my heritage," Ichijo said with chill asperity, "but surely it cannot be the reason for your interest in me."

"On the contrary." Sano moved to the next panel. It showed the Purple Dragon Hall of the Imperial Palace. On the veranda, a courtier stood beside a boy dressed in the tall black hat and elaborate robes of the emperor. Pointing to the courtier, Sano said, "This must be Fujiwara Yoshifusa, regent for the young Emperor Seiwa, who reigned seven centuries ago. Yoshifusa established the tradition of marrying Fujiwara daughters to emperors. A father-in-law can exert much influence over a young sovereign, yes?"

Ichijo compressed his mouth in annoyance at this allusion to his relationship with Emperor Tomohito.

"But the zenith of Fujiwara glory was the great Michinaga," Sano said. "His daughters were consorts to four emperors; two other emperors were his nephews, and three his grandsons. He ruled supreme for thirty-two years." Sano contemplated the last painting, a view of a temple at night. In the sky floated a huge, round moon. "Michinaga founded this monastery at Hojo Temple. He wrote a poem boasting that he was a master of his world, 'like the flawless full moon riding the skies.'

"That is true," Ichijo said impatiently, "but I fail to see what relevance it has to your investigation."

"After Michinaga's death, the Fujiwara fortunes declined. Power shifted to the samurai cla.s.s." Sano faced Ichijo. "Don't you regret the pa.s.sing of those glorious days?"

Disdain shaded Ichijo's face. "Even if I did, that gives me no reason for wanting Left Minister Konoe dead. The post of prime minister confers no power outside the Imperial Palace. Killing my rival would not have reestablished Fujiwara control over j.a.pan."

But perhaps Konoe had discovered that Ichijo was planning to restore imperial rule and Fujiwara supremacy by mounting a revolt against the Tokugawa, Sano speculated. Ichijo was in a unique position to influence Emperor Tomohito, both as chief adviser and as father of the imperial consort. If a coup succeeded, Ichijo would dominate the throne and the nation-as his ancestors had. Therefore, Ichijo was a prime candidate for instigator of the rebel conspiracy.