Authors: Laura Joh Rowland
"My troops, clerks, and other staff are at your service," said the shoshidai.
"Since I'm traveling with a very small retinue," Yanagisawa said, "that is much appreciated."
Sano knew he would have to keep a close watch in case Yanagisawa recruited new henchmen to work against him.
"I wish that Yoriki Hoshina, my senior police commander, were here," the shoshidai said. "He's a most capable detective who has been assisting the sosakan-sama. But Hoshina-san seems to have disappeared."
"A pity," said Yanagisawa.
Subtle menace shaded the chamberlain's voice. Sano hoped he could keep Hoshina hidden long enough to finish the case. However, that would still leave the problem of what to do with Hoshina afterward. He couldn't protect the yoriki from Yanagisawa's wrath indefinitely.
"Of course you'll be needing a place to live while in Miyako," the shoshidai said to Yanagisawa. "I regret that Nijo Castle is undergoing a major renovation at the moment, but you can stay at Nijo Manor with the sosakan-sama."
"The renovation is suspended as of now," Yanagisawa said, and Sano knew how much he wanted to avoid sharing the same roof. "I'll move into Nijo Castle at once."
"Well, all right." The shoshidai sounded doubtful, but not even the shogun's cousin dared challenge the most powerful man in Japan.
"We'll be going now," Sano said. "We have much work to do, and I must brief the Honorable Chamberlain on the status of the investigation."
Outside, they mounted their horses in the narrow lane crowded with the strolling dignitaries of Miyako's administrative district. Low clouds hid the distant hills, but the sun had burned the morning mist from the sky; heat shimmered in the air. Sano felt sweaty, rank, and in dire need of a bath.
Yanagisawa said in a surly voice, "I suppose you found that farce of cooperation and friendly camaraderie amusing."
"Not so much amusing as necessary." Sano hoped that making their partnership public would force Yanagisawa to behave honorably, although he had his doubts.
"As for briefing me," Yanagisawa said, "that's unnecessary because I already know everything you know. And I've told you everything Hoshina withheld from you."
They'd talked during the ride to town, but Sano didn't believe Yanagisawa had really made a full disclosure. "I want your metsuke dossiers on the Imperial Court," Sano said, having guessed that Yanagisawa had plundered the records in Edo before he'd read them. "I also want the material you took from Left Minister Konoe's office."
"Fine. I'll send it to Nijo Manor." Yanagisawa sat astride his horse, with his bodyguards flanking him. "That's all I'm willing to do for today. I still feel very unwell, and I need to rest. Farewell until tomorrow."
The chamberlain and his guards rode away. Sano set off toward Nijo Manor. The first thing he needed to do was to see Reiko. Second, he must assign men to spy on Yanagisawa.
When Reiko rode up to Nijo Manor in her palanquin, Detective Fukida was waiting for her outside the gate. "Where have you been?" he cried.
"I've been investigating my husband's murder," Reiko said, climbing out of the palanquin. Afire with excitement, she explained how she and Lady Jokyoden had gone to Left Minister Konoe's secret house in the textile district, then showed Fukida the scrap of notes she'd found in the charcoal brazier. "Look. I'm sure this means the left minister was spying on Lord Ibe, who might be connected to the murders."
Fukida frowned. "You went to the palace?" he said. "On your own?"
"Yes. Lady Jokyoden told me that Lord Ibe has a house in the cloth dyers' district where he stays when he visits Miyako. We must go there right now!"
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Fukida said. "Perhaps we should wait."
"For what?" Reiko said, perplexed, then incredulous. "Do you intend to sit idle while your master's killer goes free?"
Instead of meeting Reiko's eyes, Fukida gazed around the bright, bustling street. "The sosakan-sama told me to watch over you. I must obey his orders. I can't take you to Lord Ibe's house or anywhere else that might be dangerous."
"Then go yourself," Reiko said.
"I can't leave you."
"Where is Detective Marume? He could go."
Fukida looked so miserable that Reiko pitied him, but she was angry at his refusal to help her avenge Sano's death. "All right," she said. "If you won't take me, then I'll go alone."
"I'm sorry, but I can't allow that." Fukida turned to Reiko's palanquin bearers and guards and said, "You're not to take her on any more trips without my permission."
The bearers and guards bowed, chorusing, "Yes, Fukida-san."
"You can't do this!" Reiko cried, infuriated.
"Please go inside, Honorable Lady Reiko," said Fukida.
She glared at him in helpless rage. Tears rushed to her eyes as the grief she'd suppressed all morning resurfaced. Head high, she entered the inn, walked into her room, and shut the door so hard that the frame rattled. Alone, she fought the impulse to lie down and weep. She changed her silk kimono for a simple blue cotton one, and her high-soled shoes for comfortable straw sandals. She strapped a dagger to her arm under her sleeve. Then she peered out the windows and door to look for Fukida. He was nowhere in sight; he'd underestimated her determination. Reiko slipped out of Nijo Manor and began walking.
The hot sun beat down on her. Soon she was drenched in sweat and longing for a cool drink, but ladies didn't carry money, and as a stranger in town, Reiko had no credit with Miyako vendors. Samurai on horseback and peasants carrying loads of supplies jostled past her through narrow streets lined with shops. Dust, horse manure, and filthy water from open drains soiled her shoes and hem. She avoided looking other pedestrians in the eye, praying that no one would accost her. Something in her expression must have warned off predators, because although some men leered, they left her alone. Perhaps they thought she was a madwoman. Exhausted and footsore, she finally reached the cloth dyers' district northeast of Sanjo Bridge.
In workshops, craftsmen stirred steaming dye vats and painted designs on silk. Reiko followed a path beside the Kamo River, seeking Lord Ibe's house. She knew that while the feudal lords occupied grand estates in Edo and their provinces, Tokugawa law forbade them to maintain residences in Miyako. Therefore, a daimyo who desired a home here would avoid the authorities' notice by keeping a modest, discreet establishment. Reiko hadn't asked how Lady Jokyoden knew where Lord Ibe's illegal residence was. She would not allow herself to consider the possibility that the notes she'd pinned her hopes on were irrelevant to the murders and she'd come all this way for nothing.
Along the path on Reiko's right, textile shops crowned the embankment; drying cloth flapped on roofs and balconies. On her left, dyers rinsed long, brilliantly colored fabrics in the river, turning clear water into a sea of painted flowers, landscapes, and geometric designs. Reiko followed Jokyoden's directions up a path leading inland to a neighborhood of narrow, two-story houses behind high fences. Maids and porters hurried down the streets; bearers carried passengers in palanquins. Lord Ibe's house was the second to last on its block, behind a double gate suspended between two square pillars capped with a gabled roof.
Reiko circled the block, covertly inspecting the area. Other houses showed signs of life-maids shaking brooms out windows, children playing in front-but bamboo blinds covered the balconies of Lord Ibe's place. During an hour of watching, Reiko didn't see anyone enter or leave. Nervously, she walked up to the gates and knocked on the wooden planks.
No answer came. Reiko knocked again, louder. She heard the rasp of a sliding door, and footsteps. Then came the metallic scrape of a bar drawing back; the gates parted to reveal a man dressed in a short brown cotton kimono. He had the thick build and close-cropped hair of a laborer. Suspicion darkened his pockmarked features as he looked Reiko up and down.
"Yes?" he growled.
His unfriendly manner and disreputable appearance intimidated Reiko. "I-I'm looking for Lord Ibe," she said.
"Nobody by that name here."
The man started to close the gates. "Wait," Reiko said, pushing against them. "I know this house belongs to Lord Ibe. I must speak to him."
A lascivious smile came over the man's face. "You're wrong," he said, "but maybe you should come in anyway. We could have fun with a pretty girl like you." He reached over and chucked Reiko under the chin.
She recoiled at the liberty. "Who are you?" she asked, trying to sound stern.
"None of your business. Who do you think you are?" The man scowled, obviously displeased that a woman should dare to question him.
"Who's in there?" Reiko persisted. "What's going on?"
"Get lost, girl."
The man slammed the gates shut. Reiko heard the bar slide into place. She looked up at the house in desperation. The man had acted as if he had something to hide. She had to know what Left Minister Konoe had discovered here, because this represented her only chance to solve Sano's murder. But how could she, a woman alone, find out the secrets of the house?
Reiko hurried to the gate of the house behind Lord Ibe's and knocked. A maid answered. "Yes, madam?"
"Excuse me," Reiko said, arranging her face in an apologetic smile, "but I wonder if I could use your place of relief?" This was the polite term for the privy. "I'm sorry to bother you, but it's an emergency...."
"Yes, of course." The maid smiled back, eager to help a lady in need. "Come this way."
She led Reiko around the house, into a narrow backyard that contained a fireproof storehouse and a privy shed.
"Thank you, you're so kind." Feigning casual interest, Reiko pointed at the daimyo's house and said, "Who lives over there?"
"Some men.... I don't know who they are."
"How many?"
Puzzled, the maid shook her head. "They keep to themselves." She opened the privy door. "If you need anything, just call."
"Many thanks." Reiko went into the privy, waited until the maid was gone, then came out again. She surveyed the yard. Along the fence lay rakes, baskets, urns, a wooden barrel. Quietly Reiko overturned the barrel, stood on it, and peered over the fence. She saw a yard similar to the one she was in, with a storehouse and privy. Wooden bars shielded the back windows of Lord Ibe's house. As Reiko watched, the door opened, and a muscular man dressed in a loincloth emerged. His body was covered with tattoos, a mark of the gangster class. Leaving the door ajar, he went into the privy.
That open door exerted a powerful, tempting pull on Reiko. Spurning caution, she started to climb the fence. When her long, full robe hindered her, she impatiently tied the skirts around her hips. She eased herself down on the other side, then tiptoed across Lord Ibe's yard. The presence of a gangster and a peasant ruffian in a daimyo's house signaled trouble, and Reiko had no doubt that the left minister's notes referred to their activities. Peeking in the back door, she saw a dim, vacant corridor with rooms opening off it. She glanced toward the privy. Grunts issued from the man inside. Reiko slipped through the door of the house and stood with her back pressed against the wall. Hearing male voices, she tensed.
Footsteps creaked above the ceiling: The men were upstairs. Even armed with a dagger, Reiko had no desire to confront them alone. She'd thought that grief had put her beyond caring what happened to her, but now she regretted her impulsiveness; it was all too clear what men would do to a young female trespasser. She wanted to leave, but then she heard footsteps behind her, outside: The gangster was coming.
Reiko darted down the corridor and through the nearest door, into a storeroom crammed with boxes. Holding her breath, she waited until the man walked past. Planks squeaked as the gangster mounted the stairs. A bitter odor caught Reiko's attention. She looked around, and when her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw wall racks full of spears, swords, and bows. Stacked wooden chests almost covered the floor. Curious now, Reiko lifted a lid. She found a suit of armor.
Uneasiness stirred within her. The odor grew stronger as she moved toward the door leading into the adjacent room. It held more chests. Reiko opened one, and her heart lurched. Inside lay a cache of arquebuses-long, tubular steel guns. Barrels, round wooden boxes, and square wicker baskets stood nearby. When Reiko pried the lid off a barrel, the smell billowed up into her face, smoky and acrid. She dipped a finger into fine black granules. Though she'd never seen gunpowder before, she knew this must be it. In the boxes she found spherical iron bullets. The baskets contained arrows. Reiko wouldn't have been surprised to find swords and spears in a daimyo's house, though not in such huge quantity. And guns were reserved for the sole use of the Tokugawa, but she'd just discovered enough weapons and ammunition to equip a small army.
The implications of the discovery stunned and enlightened Reiko. Left Minister Konoe must have watched men gathering at the house, bringing the arsenal. Surely this activity was the object of the surveillance mentioned in his notes. If Reiko was correct about the purpose of the weapons, then here was a secret that constituted the true motive for Konoe's murder.
Reiko hastened to the door, looked cautiously, and saw no one. Even though the temptation to flee was overpowering, she forced herself to move down the corridor, toward a flight of stairs that led to the second story. The voices sounded louder; Reiko discerned at least three different men speaking. Slowly she ascended the stairs, easing her weight down on the creaky planks. Fear nauseated her, and the sweat on her skin turned cold; she held herself rigid, fighting the sickness. Telling herself she must be strong for Sano, she climbed higher and saw another empty corridor that extended past more doors. The voices came from the second room on the right. Tiptoeing up the last steps, Reiko emerged into hot, stuffy air thick with tobacco smoke. Muddy daylight filtered through the balcony blinds and the paper walls of the corridor. Reiko crept to the doorway of the second room and listened.
"You shouldn't have been so rude," said a young man's worried voice. "You made her suspicious."