stuck here; she mustn’t antagonize these women, because servants could take their revenge in small, aggravating ways.
The inn’s floors and ceilings creaked as guests settled in for the night, their talk and laughter a continuous background noise. The night’s humid warmth oppressed Reiko’s spirits. Sano had warned her that she might have less freedom in Miyako than in Edo, where she had friends and relatives to visit, things to do, and a certain independence. In Edo, she also had her network to consult during investigations. Here she felt alone and helpless. She would go mad with boredom unless Sano found occupation for her.
At last she heard the voices of Sano and Detectives Marume and Fukida in the corridor. Quickly she said to the innkeeper’s wife, “Please prepare my husband’s bath and dinner.”
The woman hurried off to obey. Sano entered the room, carrying a clothbound ledger. Fatigue shadowed his face, but he smiled at Reiko. Feeling the stir of desire and affection that his presence always evoked, she murmured, “Welcome.”
Sano studied her anxiously. “I’m sorry I had to leave you. Is everything all right?”
That his immediate concern should be for her, even when he had serious business on his mind, filled Reiko with love for him. “Everything is fine,” she said, forbearing to mention her own troubles. “I want to hear all about what happened, as soon as you’ve had time to relax.”
After he’d bathed and dressed in a cool cotton robe, they sat together in their room. The maids brought Sano a meal tray containing clear broth, grilled river fish, pickled radish, and rice. While he ate, he told Reiko the circumstances of Left Minister Konoe’s death.
“So it was murder,” Reiko said, relishing the challenge of a hunt for a killer, “and an actual instance of death by kiai! This is going to be a very interesting case.”
“And a difficult one,” Sano said. He paused, using his chopsticks to pick bones out of the fish. “Hopefully, I’ll soon have some clues, as well as statements from suspects, and we can discuss them. Your ideas will be very helpful.”
A cautious note in his voice set off a warning signal in Reiko’s head. Unhappy comprehension deflated her excitement. “Discussion and ideas-is that all you’re going to allow me to contribute to the investigation?”
“Please don’t get upset,” Sano said, laying down his chopsticks as his troubled gaze met her appalled one. “Let me explain.”
The disappointment was more than Reiko could bear. “But I should help search for clues and interview the suspects and witnesses. To develop any useful ideas about the murder, I need to see the people and places involved.” Tradition forbade a wife to argue with her husband, but Reiko and Sano had a marriage that strained the bounds of convention. “Have I come all this way to sit idle while you toil alone?”
“I brought you here to protect you,” Sano reminded her.
“From Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who is far away in Edo.”
“From grave peril,” Sano said. “And this investigation has great potential for that.”
Yet Reiko preferred peril to boredom. “I’ve worked on murder cases before. This one is no different. I’m not afraid.”
“You should be,” Sano said somberly, “because this case is indeed different. The power of kiai makes this killer more dangerous than an ordinary criminal.”
“The killer is no more dangerous to me than to you,” Reiko said. Exasperation rose in her. With an eleven-year age difference between them, Sano often seemed like an overprotective father. “Your greater size and strength are no defense against a spirit cry.”
“My many years of martial arts training are,” Sano said. “I’ve practiced rituals for strengthening the will. A strong will is the foundation for the power of kiai, and the only weapon against it.”
Reiko lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Do you think that just because I haven’t lived long enough to study as much as you have, it means my will is weak?”
“Not at all,” Sano said with a wry smile.
“Rituals you’ve never had a chance to test won’t guarantee your safety if the killer attacks you,” Reiko retorted. “Nor will your sex or rank. The killer’s victim was male, and the highest official in the Imperial Court.”
Sano picked up his soup bowl, then set it down. “There are also practical reasons I can’t include you in the investigation. You couldn’t go to the crime scene with me today. I can’t take you along on my inquiries tomorrow. For a samurai’s wife to follow him around, involving herself in official business-you know it just isn’t done.” His regretful expression told Reiko that he sympathized with her position, even as he defended his own. “I’m sorry.”
“There must be something I can do,” Reiko persisted. “Are there any witnesses to interview?”
“Not yet.”
“What about suspects?”
“That ledger I brought contains Yoriki Hoshina’s report on the investigation he did before we got here. He’s cleared most of the palace residents of suspicion by confirming their alibis. But there are some people whose whereabouts at the time of the murder remain unknown. One is Emperor Tomohito, and another his cousin Prince Momozono.” Sano explained that they’d discovered the body, then said, “I can’t subject them to questioning by a woman. It would be a gross impropriety.”
Reiko nodded, sadly conceding Sano’s point. She saw the murder case moving farther and farther beyond her grasp. Nevertheless, something that he’d said gave her hope.
“If the emperor is one suspect and the prince is another,” Reiko said, “then it sounds as though there are additional suspects. Who are they?”
“The emperor’s mother, Lady Jokyoden, and his consort, Lady Asagao.”
From the chagrin on his face, Reiko could tell that Sano hadn’t wanted to tell her. “It wouldn’t violate any customs for the wife of the shogun’s representative to call on the women of the Imperial Court,” she said, so delighted by this turn of events that she forgave Sano’s attempt to conceal information. “I’ll go tomorrow.”
“Even though it’s socially acceptable for you to visit Lady Jokyoden and Lady Asagao, there’s still the threat of danger,” Sano said. “I don’t know of any historical incidences of a woman having the power of kiai, and it seems likely that the murderer is a man, but we can’t yet rule out the possibility that the emperor’s mother or consort killed Left Minister Konoe. For you to go prying into their business is too big a risk.”
“The Imperial Court doesn’t know that I help you with investigations,” Reiko said. “When I visit the women, they’ll think it’s just a social courtesy.”
“If they guess your real purpose, the consequences could be fatal,” Sano said.
The room’s cozy atmosphere chilled and darkened with the memory of a recent time when a killer had seen through Reiko’s false pretenses while investigating the murder of the shogun’s favorite concubine. Stifling a shiver, Reiko involuntarily placed a hand on her abdomen, where a new, fragile life might have just begun. She read in Sano’s eyes his resolve to prevent another disaster.
“I’ve learned a lot since then,” she said. “I won’t let the emperor’s mother and consort guess that I know they’re suspects. Besides, women speak more frankly to one another than to men. Court ladies are probably unaccustomed to meeting samurai officials. I have a better chance of getting the information you need.”
Sano nodded in reluctant agreement, then frowned, placing his chopsticks together across the center of his rice bowl and contemplating the equally divided contents.
Reiko sensed in him the struggle between love and duty, between caution and the need to employ every possible method to solve the case. Taking Sano’s strong, hard hands in her small, slender ones, she said, “When we married, our lives and our honor were joined forever. I want to deliver the killer to justice as much as you do. For good or bad, I share your fate. Shouldn’t I do everything in my power to bring us success?”
They shared a long look. Then Sano clasped Reiko’s hands, expelled a breath, and nodded, his misgivings obvious. But triumph filled Reiko. She had enough faith in their partnership for both of them.
At Nijo Castle, a servant entered the White Parlor, bowed, and said to Chamberlain Yanagisawa, “Your visitor has arrived.”
“Good. I’ll receive him in the Grand Audience Hall.” Yanagisawa turned to Aisu. 'I’ll handle this alone.”
Disapproval flickered in Aisu’s eyes. “But how can you be sure he’s trustworthy?” Yanagisawa had been communicating with his chief Miyako agent via written messages; they’d never actually met. But now, with operations under way, face-to-face contact was necessary. “You need protection.”
