Red Chrysanthemum (6 page)

“Hirata-san is waiting for you in Lord Mori’s private chambers,” a detective told Sano. “I’ll take you there.”

Sano and his men left their horses in the courtyard and continued on foot to the private chambers. The building looked drab with its half-timbered walls streaked by the rain, its gardens sodden and unappealing despite the summer flowers blooming in beds planted around boulders, ponds, and shrubs. People milled around or stood in clusters. Some were guards; others, men and women who Sano presumed were Mori relatives, attendants, and servants. As Sano walked up the stairs to the building, a stout, gray-haired samurai came out the door.

“Finally you’re here. It’s about time!” he huffed.

Sano paused on the veranda. “And you are… ?”

“Akera. I’m Lord Mori’s chief retainer. Or at least I was, before my master was savagely murdered.” He seemed so furious and upset that he didn’t care if Sano thought him discourteous. “Now
Sosakan
Hirata’s men are swarming like maggots all over the estate. This is an outrage! What do you intend to do about it?”

“I intend to find out who killed Lord Mori,” Sano said, controlling his temper, his gaze warning Akera that he’d better do the same or else.

The man’s indignation deflated, but he looked at Sano with barely concealed scorn. “With all due respect, Honorable Chamberlain, but your wife killed him.”

“That’s for me to determine,” Sano said evenly.

“Oh. I see.” Akera’s face hardened. “You think you can sweep this crime under the mat and spare your wife the punishment she deserves. Well, you won’t, I promise. It’s my duty, and that of all Lord Mori’s retainers, to avenge our master’s death, and I assure you that we will do so.”

Sano felt his spirits descend because the Mori clan’s huge retinue of samurai out for blood was only the first threat to Reiko and not the worst. He hid his emotions behind a severe facade. “It’s your duty to cooperate with my investigation.”

Akera eyed Sano with fear, hostility, and resignation. “At your service, Honorable Chamberlain,” he muttered.

“First you can answer some questions,” Sano said. “What did Lord Mori do last night?”

“He had dinner with me and some of his other retainers. Then he went to his office and read news dispatches from his provinces. I checked in with him to report that all was well on the estate, and we discussed his plans for the next day. Then he retired to his private chambers and went to bed.”

Sano noted the huge discrepancy between this story and Reiko’s. “Didn’t Lord Mori have company?”

“No.” Akera looked annoyed that Sano had contradicted him.

“He didn’t entertain himself with a young boy who he rented for sex?

Akera’s face darkened with anger. “Lord Mori was an honorable, dignified samurai. He never indulged in prostitutes of any kind.”

“I understand that Lord Mori liked to play rough with boys,” Sano persisted. “This one was tortured and killed.”

“Who gave you that idea?” Suspicion narrowed Akera’s eyes. “It was your wife, wasn’t it? You talked to her before you came here. She’s slandering Lord Mori to save herself.”

Sano had expected this denial and accusation, but it worried him nonetheless. In the few moments he’d been at the estate he’d gathered a statement against Reiko and no evidence in her favor. Still, he believed her and not Akera, a man he didn’t know who wanted someone to blame for Lord Mori’s death. “It would be wise for you to tell the truth. I’ll be checking into your version of events and questioning witnesses.”

“Go ahead,” Akera said, defiant. “Here are the witnesses.” He gestured toward some fifty Mori soldiers who’d gathered nearby. They bent a collective, hostile stare on Sano. “All the troops in the Mori retinue will confirm my story and attest to Lord Mori’s good character.”

They would, Sano knew. The samurai code of honor required their absolute loyalty to their master and fierce aggression toward outsiders they thought had insulted his clan. Sano’s spirits dropped lower as a barrier of silence rose between him and the truth about the murder. But all barriers had weak spots, and he’d broken through them before. Moreover, he hadn’t missed a critical, heartening element in Akera’s story.

“You appear to be the last person to have seen Lord Mori alive,” Sano pointed out.

“If you’re looking to shift the blame for the murder onto me, it won’t work,” Akera said with ireful satisfaction. “I didn’t kill Lord Mori. Everyone here will attest to my devotion to him. My servants will swear that I spent the whole night in my own quarters and didn’t know he was dead until
Sosakan
Hirata and I found him today.”

Sano saw that there was nothing more to be gained from Akera until and unless he could break this alibi that was backed up by the servants’ age-old obedience to and fear of their superiors. He faced down Akera with an impassive gaze. “Make yourself available for further questioning. I’ll inspect the scene of the murder now.”

He, Marume, and Fukida entered the building and found Hirata with Detectives Arai and Inoue in the bedchamber. As they exchanged greetings, Sano viewed the corpse lying on the bed. He stifled a wince; his gaze veered away from the ugly wound in Lord Mori’s groin, the severed organs alongside Reiko’s soiled knife. Flies buzzed and swarmed over the blood. Sano felt a painful spasm in his own groin, then a sick, dizzying sensation. He’d seen many murder victims, but this injury to the most personal, vulnerable part of the male body almost undid him. The air reeked of decay. For a moment he couldn’t breathe.

“Is this how you found him?” Sano managed to ask.

“Yes,” Hirata said. “We haven’t touched anything here, except to open the windows.” The detectives studiously avoided looking at the corpse. Arai and Inoue had had time to get used to it, but Marume’s and Fukida’s faces were pale. “We preserved the scene for you.”

Sano nodded his approval while he noted the room’s plain decor. The gilded screen, the erotic mural, the vase of flowers, the wine bottle, and cup were nowhere to be seen. Except for the single blossom that lay, its petals dyed red, in the blood on the floor, the chrysanthemums had vanished as Reiko had said.

Or perhaps the decorations didn’t exist. Perhaps the events she’d claimed she’d witnessed here had never taken place.

These unwelcome thoughts rose involuntarily in Sano’s mind. He realized he was treating Reiko with the skepticism that he would apply to any other murder suspect. Dismay filled him; yet the habits formed during years of detective work were hard to quit. Sano paced around the room, looking anxiously for clues to confirm Reiko’s story. He opened the cabinets and found nothing but clothes and Lord Mori’s other personal items. When he found the spy-hole she’d cut in the windowpane, he felt relieved, and guilty for distrusting Reiko. But it didn’t prove that Lord Mori had done the things she said. It wasn’t nearly enough evidence to prove Reiko innocent.

“What investigation has been done?” Sano asked.

“I’ve sent men to search the estate,” Hirata said.

“Any results yet?”

Hirata shook his head.

“Well, here are some things I want them to search for.” Sano described the chrysanthemum screen, flowers, and mural. He looked at the bed. If anyone had been killed on it besides Lord Mori, it was impossible to tell, and the blood obliterated any signs that sex had taken place. “Also the body of a dead boy about nine years old, and another boy, either alive or dead, aged five years, named Jiro.”

“What?” Hirata beheld Sano with surprise, as did the other men.

Sano told them Reiko’s tale. He also told them what Akera had said that disputed it. “Finding the dead boy would help prove that things happened the way my wife claims. Finding Jiro would lend credence to her story that she came here to look for him—not kill Lord Mori.”

“All right. I’ll have my men look.” Hirata exchanged an uneasy glance with Inoue and Arai.

“What’s the matter?” Sano said.

“I was just going to tell you mat I’ve begun questioning the residents of the estate,” Hirata said. “I’ve found a possible witness to the crime.”

“Who is it?”

“Lord Mori’s wife.”

The woman Reiko had befriended. “What did she say?”

“You’d better hear for yourself.” Hirata paused. “I must warn you that you’re not going to like it.”

Sano found Lady Mori in her chamber in the women’s quarters of the mansion. She sat surrounded by five ladies-in-waiting and a gray-haired maid, who inched closer to her in protective unison when Sano entered with Hirata. She seemed an ordinary older woman with a dumpy figure, neatly groomed in her plain, beige silk kimono. But her eyes were red and her face bloated from weeping. Grief blurred the gaze she turned toward Sano.

He knelt before her and introduced himself, while Hirata waited at the door. The room was small, crowded with women, elaborate lacquer furniture, brocade cushions, a mirror, and dressing table. It was also too hot from the charcoal braziers that burned despite the muggy summer warmth. The atmosphere smelled of perfumed oils.

“Please accept my condolences on the death of your husband,” Sano said.

“Many thanks. They are most appreciated,” Lady Mori said in a gentle voice thick with tears.

“I’ve been told that you have information about Lord Mori’s murder,” Sano said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, Honorable Chamberlain.” She cast her eyes downward and wiped them on her sleeve.

Sano didn’t like to bother a widow in the raw early stage of mourning, but he couldn’t afford to delay hearing Lady Mori’s testimony, especially if it could hurt Reiko. “Please tell me what it is.”

“Honorable Chamberlain…” Lady Mori glanced at him from beneath her swollen red eyelids. “Forgive me if it pains you, but… I am sorry to say…” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Your wife killed my husband.”

The last thing Sano needed was someone else claiming Reiko was guilty. Hirata flashed him a glance that said,
I warned you.
Anger undermined Sano’s sympathy for Lady Mori. “How do you know?” he demanded. “Did you actually see Lady Reiko stab him and castrate him?”

Lady Mori flinched at his blunt, crude words. “No. But I am sure she did it.”

“How can you be, when you didn’t see her?” Sano heard his voice grow harsher with his outrage at the false accusation.

If Lady Mori feared him, she didn’t show it. She aimed her gaze somewhere near his chin, as close as a high-society woman could come to looking him in the eye. She spoke in a reluctant but certain tone: “Lady Reiko was with my husband last night. That much I did see.”

“You saw her spying on him from outside his chamber?” Sano imagined Lady Mori lurking in the fog, watching Reiko. Perhaps he could get Lady Mori to confirm Reiko’s story while he demolished hers.

Faint surprise crossed Lady Mori’s face. “Not outside. Lady Reiko was inside my husband’s chamber.” Trepidation blended with the sorrow in her eyes. “You were not aware?”

“Aware of what?” Sano said, leery and suspicious.

“I am sorry to be the bearer of information that may distress you as much as it does me, but…” Lady Mori crumpled under an onslaught of grief. Her attendants laid soothing hands on her as she sobbed. “Your wife and my husband were lovers.”

5

The Wife’s Tale

GENROKU YEAR 11, MONTH 5 (JUNE 1698)

The annual ceremony to open the Sumida River for the summer season began as the sun descended behind the hills and its last rays gleamed red on the water. Musicians, puppeteers, and jugglers entertained noisy crowds that strolled the embankment. Vendors in boats along the shore did a flourishing business in rice cakes, dumplings, watermelons, and sake. People jammed the Ryogoku Bridge, awaiting the fireworks. Up and down the river floated hundreds of pleasure craft, brightly lit with multicolored lanterns, containing gay revelers.

Aboard one large boat Lord and Lady Mori sat beneath a striped canopy. They smiled at each other as they enjoyed the singing and music from the other boats.

“I wanted to do something special to celebrate our anniversary,” Lord Mori said. “Does this please you, my darling?”

“Very much.” Lady Mori’s heart brimmed with love for him that hadn’t diminished in sixteen years of marriage.

Lord Mori poured sake into their cups. “Let us drink a toast to our continued happiness.”

As they drank, Lady Mori recalled their wedding day, the priest droning through the rites, the handful of spectators, herself and Lord Mori seated opposite each other. She’d cowered under the drape that hid her face, terrified because he’d been a stranger that she’d only met once, when their clans arranged their union. She knew nothing about him except that he was rich and could provide for her and her nine-year-old son from her previous marriage. That marriage had been a disaster, her husband cold and cruel. When he’d died, she’d never expected to find happiness in a new marriage.

But Lord Mori, whose first wife had died many years past, had proved to be a kind, decent man. To their mutual surprise, they’d fallen deeply in love. Now Lady Mori thanked the gods for him and their wonderful life together, especially because she wasn’t the only one who’d benefited.

Her son, Enju, stood at the boat’s railing. Twenty-five years old now, he was so handsome that Lady Mori beamed with pride. He held a spyglass to his eye, scanning the bridge.

“Do you see any pretty girls?” Lord Mori called to him. “I know you have a good eye for them.”

Enju laughed as he turned to his stepfather. “Is that so bad?” He added teasingly, “You must have been quite a man for the ladies in your day.”

“That was before I met your mother.” Lord Mori put his arm around Lady Mori. As Enju resumed watching the bridge, Lord Mori said, “It’s high time I found a bride for him. I know some lovely, highbred young women who would do quite well.”

He’d not only welcomed his stepson into his life; since he had no issue of his own, he’d adopted Enju as his official heir. Furthermore, he loved Enju as he would a blood child. Lady Mori had her husband to thank for the fact that Enju had grown into a happy, healthy man with a bright future. Someday, Enju would rule Suwo and Nagato provinces as
daimyo.