The Shogun's Daughter (22 page)

Akiko slapped it out of her hand. “I don’t want it anymore.” She stomped out of the room. Reiko sighed. This was a pattern for them. Akiko got upset; Reiko tried to console her; Akiko rejected Reiko.

A maid came to the door. “There’s a visitor to see you. A Lady Someko.”

Reiko was astounded. She hadn’t expected Lady Someko to accept the invitation she’d sent this morning. Wild with curiosity, she hurried to meet the mother of the shogun’s heir.

Two of Sano’s guards stood outside the reception room where Lady Someko sat by the alcove. She wore a reddish-bronze silk kimono. Her spine was straight, her chin lifted proudly. A cinnabar comb anchored her smooth, upswept black hair. Reiko entered the room and knelt opposite her. They bowed solemnly, like rival generals facing each other across a battlefield.

While Reiko offered refreshments and Lady Someko politely refused, they engaged in mutual scrutiny. Lady Someko was very attractive, her skin smooth across her wide face, her hair untouched by gray. But her body, although sleek and firm, lacked the softness of youth. Her tilted eyes had a hard, mature glitter. Reiko saw them note her beauty, her pregnancy.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Reiko said.

Lady Someko’s lips curved in the condescending smile with which Reiko had seen other older women express their envy of her. “Life is full of surprises.”

“Why did you come?”

“One reason is that I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’m curious.”

Reiko could imagine what Lady Someko had heard. Tales of her exploits in the service of Sano’s investigations had long fed the high-society gossip mill. It was probably still churning with the story of how she’d killed a criminal outside the palace last year.

“The curiosity is mutual,” Reiko said. “Many thanks for accepting my invitation.”

Mirth briefly dimpled Lady Someko’s cheeks. “You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Someone bigger and tougher and less feminine,” Lady Someko said. “You don’t look strong enough to lift a sword.”

“You’re not what I expected, either,” Reiko said.

“What did
you
expect?”

“Someone weak and easily dominated.”

That was the stereotype of concubines. Reiko thought Lady Someko would react with scorn at this notion of herself, but Lady Someko looked faintly distressed, as if Reiko’s judgment had hit too close to home.

“Another reason is that we have a lot in common,” Lady Someko said. “We’re both mothers of sons.”

“Our men are on opposite sides of a feud,” Reiko said. “I suppose you could call that something else in common.”

Lady Someko smiled as if mischievously pleased to be consorting with the enemy. Reiko did feel a certain comradeship with her. The feud between Sano and Yanagisawa must be affecting Lady Someko’s life as well as Reiko’s.

“Won’t Chamberlain Yanagisawa mind your talking to me?” Reiko asked.

“Of course. But he doesn’t control everything I do.” Lady Someko gave a husky laugh. “Does your husband tell you to go out and kill people, or do you take it upon yourself?”

Reiko wasn’t about to discuss her marriage with a stranger who might tell tales to Yanagisawa. “Are there any more reasons why you came?”

For the first time Lady Someko seemed less than confident. She said in a falsely casual tone, “I heard that your husband is investigating the murder of the shogun’s daughter.”

“You mean, you want to know if Yoshisato is a suspect and whether my husband has evidence that he’s guilty?”

“If it were your son whose half sister had been murdered, wouldn’t you want to know whether someone had evidence against him?” Lady Someko retorted.

Despite her prickly manner, Reiko sympathized with her. She must be terrified that Yoshisato would be implicated in and punished for Tsuruhime’s death. She obviously didn’t think he was safe just because he’d been accepted as the shogun’s son. The shogun had never been tested to see if he would let his son get away with killing his daughter. This was an unprecedented, volatile situation.

“I’ll make a bargain with you,” Reiko said. “I’ll tell you what’s happening in the murder investigation, if you’ll answer a question for me.”

Distrust narrowed Lady Someko’s eyes.

“Who is Yoshisato’s real father? The shogun or Yanagisawa?”

Lady Someko let out a puff of laughter. She didn’t seem surprised or offended that Reiko would try to trap her into a compromising revelation. She seemed amused, as if by the antics of a clever child. “The shogun, of course. Now it’s your turn.”

“Not yet. Did you really sleep with the shogun? He prefers men.”

“He preferred me for long enough to impregnate me.”

“You lived with Yanagisawa while you were pregnant. Were you sleeping with him, too? Couldn’t Yoshisato be his?”

“I was pregnant by the shogun before Yanagisawa took me in.” Lady Someko said suddenly, “Who’s the father of the child you’re carrying?”

Startled, Reiko said, “My husband.”

“If it wasn’t him, would you tell me?” Lady Someko read Reiko’s face. She smiled meanly. “I didn’t think so. You wouldn’t want me blabbing it around and your husband finding out you’d cheated on him. He would divorce you. So why would you think I would tell you that the shogun isn’t my son’s father even if it were true?”

Reiko believed as wholeheartedly as Sano did that Yanagisawa was Yoshisato’s father. But she knew that if Lady Someko confessed her fraud, she would face much worse consequences than divorce. The shogun would have her and Yoshisato put to death.

“That’s a good point,” Reiko said. “But I figured I might as well try.”

“You can stop trying my patience. Tell me about the investigation.”

Reiko watched Lady Someko closely as she said, “My husband thinks the shogun’s daughter was deliberately infected with smallpox.”

Lady Someko looked disappointed. “Tell me something I haven’t already heard.”

“A witness found a sheet stained with blood and pus hidden in Tsuruhime’s room.”

“Who is the witness?” Caution crept into Lady Someko’s voice. “Where is this sheet?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Reiko didn’t want to admit that the sheet was missing or reveal the witness’s identity.

“Ah.” Lady Someko’s expression suggested that the evidence was fabricated. She relaxed slightly.

“Have you heard that Yanagisawa is a suspect?”

“Yes. Did your husband whip up the murder investigation just to get him in trouble?”

Reiko was angry that Lady Someko dared accuse Sano of such a reprehensible motive. But of course Lady Someko needed to believe Yanagisawa was innocent. Her fate and Yoshisato’s were tied to his. Reiko said, “Yanagisawa had good reason to kill Tsuruhime. She was pregnant when she died.”

Lady Someko’s painted eyebrows flew up. “How do you know?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. Did Yanagisawa know?”

Lady Someko was silent. Reiko couldn’t read the thoughts behind the glitter in her eyes, Had Lady Someko known about Tsuruhime’s pregnancy? “What’s the matter? Are you upset by the idea that Yanagisawa killed a pregnant woman, for political reasons?”

“You’re the one who ought to be upset,” Lady Someko said, recovering her sly humor. “Your husband probably murdered Tsuruhime himself, in order to frame Yanagisawa.”

The accusation was so ludicrous that Reiko didn’t bother replying to it. “Did Yoshisato know?”

“No. He couldn’t have. He never even met Tsuruhime. He certainly didn’t kill her.” The white makeup hid the angry rush of blood to Lady Someko’s face, but the bare skin on her bosom reddened above the neckline of her kimono. “He’s not capable of murder.”

“A lot has happened to him during the past few months,” Reiko said. “All of a sudden he has power. That can change a man, especially one so young and impressionable.”

“Not Yoshisato. He’s a good boy,” Lady Someko declared. “I know my son.”

“Not as well as you think.” Reiko hated to disillusion a mother about her child; but she must, for the sake of her own children. “Yoshisato did meet Tsuruhime. He went to visit her shortly before she came down with smallpox.”

The anger on Lady Someko’s face froze. The skin on her bosom went white. “No. He never told me.” Reiko realized she’d been suspicious and afraid all along that Yoshisato was involved in Tsuruhime’s death. “You’re lying.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not,” Reiko said, genuinely contrite. “Yoshisato admitted it to my husband when they spoke yesterday. He had a chance to plant the sheet.”

“There must be some other explanation for why he went.” Lady Someko sounded uncertain yet eager to convince herself. “He didn’t kill Tsuruhime.”

“You think he might have,” Reiko pointed out. “You suspected it even before you found out that he’d visited Tsuruhime. That’s another reason you wanted to talk to me. Why did you suspect him? Was it something he did or said?”

“I didn’t! There was nothing!” Lady Someko’s chest rose and fell with quickened, anxious breaths.

“He may have started out good, but he’s been under Yanagisawa’s influence. Yanagisawa has had people assassinated. He wouldn’t stop at murdering the shogun’s daughter to put Yoshisato at the head of the regime.”

“Yoshisato isn’t like him!” Aghast, Lady Someko sprang to her feet.

“Then again, maybe Yanagisawa didn’t have to kill Tsuruhime,” Reiko went on, merciless in pursuit of the truth, “because Yoshisato did.”

As a child Reiko had gone to the city with her grandmother and they’d seen a woman tied to a stake, about to be burned as punishment for arson. Her grandmother had pulled her away before the fire was set, but Reiko had never forgotten the woman. Now Reiko saw the same wild, desperate expression on Lady Someko. She’d voiced Lady Someko’s worst nightmare—that Yoshisato would turn into Yanagisawa, his real father. A draft stirred Lady Someko’s robes. The reddish-bronze silk glowed like flames consuming her body.

“I’ve begun to think Yoshisato is guilty,” Reiko said, “and so have you.”

The thought that she was getting close to solving the murder gave her pause: Sano wouldn’t welcome evidence against Yoshisato.

Lady Someko said in a low, venomous voice, “Tell your husband to leave Yoshisato alone.” The glitter in her eyes concentrated into two brilliant pinpoints of hatred. “If he doesn’t, he’ll answer to Yanagisawa. And you’ll answer to me.”

22

ACROSS THE RIVER,
Hirata spied on Deguchi through the concealing foliage of the trees. More than three hours had passed while they sat on the roof of the barracks. Deguchi hadn’t moved, hadn’t taken his gaze off the garden inside the estate across the street. The garden was deserted, peaceful in the hazy afternoon sunlight. Then a man shuffled out of the mansion and down the steps of the veranda. A hump on his back distorted his stunted figure. It was Lord Ienobu.

As Ienobu slouched along the garden path, Deguchi leaned forward. His right hand held a small object, which he rubbed between his fingers. It looked like a pebble. Deguchi lifted his hand, sighted on Ienobu, drew back his arm. Hirata acted instinctively. He sprang, burst through the tree branches, and landed with a loud thump beside Deguchi at the same moment Deguchi hurled the pebble.

The pebble flew so fast that it made a whizzing sound, glowed white like a comet, and trailed a thin orange flame. It zoomed close by Ienobu’s head and struck the wall of the mansion with a thud. An instant later, a loud boom rocked the sky. Particles of plaster sprayed around a wisp of smoke. Ienobu looked around. He frowned in confusion. He didn’t see the hole where the pebble had embedded itself in the wall. He didn’t know that it had been meant to pierce his skull and kill him. Shaking his head, he ambled around the corner of the mansion.

Deguchi swiveled toward Hirata. Astonished and furious, he mouthed the words,
You made me miss! What are you doing here?

“Why did you just try to kill Ienobu?” Hirata asked.

As they stared at each other in mutual bewilderment, Hirata realized he’d lost his chance to kill Deguchi. The priest now knew Hirata had been following him. He would be on his guard. Hirata also realized why General Otani had ordered him to kill Deguchi. General Otani knew Deguchi would try to assassinate Ienobu. Hirata had been sent to stop Deguchi.

“I think we both have some explaining to do,” Hirata said.

They jumped off the roof and walked to the townspeople’s quarter near the river. They sat on the bank of a stagnant canal. Hirata asked, “Why did you do it? You know General Otani wants Ienobu to be the next shogun. Why did you go against him and Tahara and Kitano?” Hirata was astounded by his discovery that he wasn’t the only member at odds with the secret society.

Deguchi reached over and took his hand.

“Hey!” Hirata flinched from the intimate gesture.

Deguchi waggled his finger to express that he wasn’t making sexual advances. He closed his hand around Hirata’s, and Hirata heard a quiet male voice that traveled along the nerves in his arm, up into his head:
Can you hear me?

“Yes.” Hirata shivered at the eerie sensation of Deguchi’s thoughts invading his mind. “Can you hear my thoughts, too?”

No. Not unless you learn how to send them.

Relieved, Hirata said, “I’m ready for your explanation.”

*   *   *

WHEN SANO ARRIVED
at the rebuilding magistrates’ headquarters, he met Moriwaki in the hall. “While you were gone, a message came for you, from the shogun,” Moriwaki said, flashing his bright smile. “He wants to see you at once.”

Sano rode to the castle. In the palace, the shogun sat in his study. Scrolls were heaped on the gold-inlaid, black lacquer desk. The shogun was stamping them with his signature seal without reading them. He frowned as if the job were taxingly difficult.

“Ahh, it’s you,” he said. “Come in.”

Sano knelt and bowed. “Your Excellency summoned me?”

“Yes.” The shogun’s frown deepened. “It has come to my attention that, ahh, instead of rebuilding Edo, you have, ahh, been snooping around, making inquiries about my daughter.”

There went Sano’s hope that the shogun wouldn’t find out about his investigation until he’d solved the crime. And the shogun was clearly displeased. “May I ask who told you?”