Aisu hated being excluded from important business, Yanagisawa knew; he feared that someone else would steal his master’s favor. However, as a general precaution, Yanagisawa never shared all the details of a scheme with anyone, lest too much knowledge give other men power over him. Thus, he didn’t want Aisu at this secret meeting between himself and the man through whom he would achieve his purpose.
“No one would dare attack me here,” Yanagisawa said. “You’re dismissed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, master.” Aisu bowed resentfully.
In the Grand Audience Hall, a mural of gnarled pine trees on a gilt background decorated the wall behind the dais. Carved peacocks graced transoms; on the coffered ceiling, painted flowers glittered in the flames of many lanterns. Doors with ornate tassels marked rooms where guards stood watch. Exterior sliding walls were open to a garden landscaped entirely without trees, so that falling leaves could not evoke thoughts about the transience of life or political power. Indian lilac sent a smoky perfume into the castle.
Chamberlain Yanagisawa sat upon the dais. An attendant opened the door at the distant opposite end of the room and announced, “The Honorable Hoshina Sogoru, senior police commander of Miyako.”
Toward Yanagisawa strode the tall samurai, clad in a dark cobalt kimono. As Yoriki Hoshina neared the dais, the sight of his powerful build and handsome, angular face caused a flash of sexual desire in Yanagisawa. Hoshina’s heavy-lidded eyes regarded Yanagisawa with speculative interest. Then his full lips curved in a brief, bold smile. Yanagisawa instinctively recognized Hoshina as a man who liked men-and shared his attraction.
“Welcome,” Yanagisawa said, marveling that written words conveyed so little of the writer’s person. The yoriki’s businesslike letters describing the circumstances of Left Minister Konoe’s death and the results of his preliminary inquiries hadn’t prepared Yanagisawa for meeting Hoshina in the flesh.
Hoshina knelt before the dais and bowed. “Thank you, Honorable Chamberlain. It’s a privilege to serve you.”
“Did anyone see you enter the castle?”
Contemplating the yoriki, Yanagisawa admired the sculpted muscles of Hoshina’s arms and chest. He’d spent the past nine months trying to forget his dead lover Shichisaburo, but although he’d gone through scores of partners, male and female, none had banished the memory of losing the only person who had ever loved him. Now, however, Hoshina might prove to be a welcome diversion. Still, Yanagisawa sensed danger in their attraction.
“I don’t think so,” Hoshina said. “I came alone, through the back gate, as you ordered.” A glimmer of mischief brightened his somber gaze, as if he’d read Yanagisawa’s thoughts.
He had a good opinion of himself, Yanagisawa thought, but not unjustifiably. Hoshina had first come to Yanagisawa’s attention three years ago. Local metsuke spies had recommended the yoriki as a man of talent whose job put him in a good position to monitor the activities of Miyako’s citizens. Since then, Hoshina had reported on these in regular dispatches to Edo. Yanagisawa had been impressed with the quality of the information Hoshina sent; routine double checks always proved it reliable. Hoshina was also a competent detective, but it remained to be seen whether he was capable of more difficult, complex work.
“Tell me what happened with Sano today,” Yanagisawa said.
“I took him and his detectives to the Imperial Palace to see where Left Minister Konoe died.”
Hoshina lowered his eyes respectfully, but Yanagisawa could feel the yoriki taking measure of him. No doubt Hoshina knew all about the enmity between himself and Sano. Yanagisawa guessed that the yoriki had also done some research on him. He noted Hoshina’s immaculately knotted and oiled hair, and the elegant silk kimono patterned with silver trees and rivers: Hoshina had groomed himself for this occasion.
“Did you win Sano’s trust?” Even as Yanagisawa recognized Hoshina’s ploy as one he himself had used on the shogun, he admired the yoriki’s daring.
“As much as possible,” said Hoshina. A note of pride, veiled with modesty, echoed in his voice. “He clearly knows better than to trust a man he’s just met, but he requested my particular assistance. He didn’t seem to suspect that I’m anything besides a policeman who wants to advance his career.”
“Excellent. I need someone to keep me informed on Sano’s progress.” Yanagisawa also needed the benefit of Sano’s expertise to help him solve the case. “What did Sano deduce from the crime scene?”
“He decided that the sound heard on the night of Left Minister Konoe’s death was a spirit cry,” Hoshina said. A faint, derisive smile twisted his lips. “But I don’t believe that a spirit cry killed Konoe, because kiai is just superstition, and I told Sano as much.”
The idea of kiai seemed like superstition to Yanagisawa, too. Still, nothing else could explain the condition of the corpse, and he couldn’t encourage Hoshina’s disturbing tendency to take the initiative and assert himself. “You shouldn’t have disagreed with Sano,” he said. “I don’t want you to antagonize him. From now on, keep your opinions to yourself.”
Bowing his head, Hoshina said, “Yes, Honorable Chamberlain. Please forgive me.”
“Very well,” Yanagisawa said, mollified. He mused, “I’m sure there will be some circumstance of the case that I can use as a weapon against Sano. What did you tell him about the murder?”
“I said I’d done a preliminary investigation and identified Emperor Tomohito, Prince Momozono, Lady Jokyoden, and Lady Asagao as suspects,” Hoshina said, “just as your message ordered. He knows there was a cover-up by the Imperial Court, and that Konoe banned everyone from the Pond Garden that night.”
Yanagisawa nodded his approval. “Much as I dislike making things easy for Sano, you had to convince him that you’re competent and honest by giving him useful information that will stand up to any checking he may do. But you didn’t tell him about your other findings, did you?”
“No, and I’m sure he doesn’t even suspect that there are any.”
Yanagisawa smiled. The withheld information, which he deemed more valuable than what Hoshina had revealed to Sano, gave him an advantage over his enemy. “What else happened?”
“Sano interviewed the Konoe household,” Hoshina said.
“And?” Although Hoshina had made discreet inquiries among the victim’s associates before Sano arrived in Miyako, it was possible that Sano had turned up clues that Yanagisawa wouldn’t want him to have.
“It was a waste of time.”
“I suppose Sano inspected Konoe’s chambers.” Yanagisawa had sent Aisu to search Konoe’s house and remove everything of potential interest prior to Sano’s visit. Several chests of papers were now in Yanagisawa’s possession. “He didn’t find anything important, did he?”
Hoshina hesitated, then said, “Actually, he may have.” Seeing Yanagisawa’s frown, the yoriki hastened to add, “There were things hidden in places that would have been overlooked, had Sano not searched as thoroughly as he did. It’s understandable that your man missed them.”
The news of yet another mistake by the formerly reliable Aisu infuriated Yanagisawa. He couldn’t afford to tolerate errors, and he must find a new chief retainer soon.
“Sano found some letters in a secret compartment,” Hoshina said. “They were written by Left Minister Konoe to his former wife, Kozeri.”
“Kozeri. Ah. Yes.” Yanagisawa recognized the name from Konoe’s metsuke dossier. “What did the letters say?”
Hoshina described the passages that Sano had read aloud. “Unfortunately, Sano took the letters, and I was afraid he would get suspicious if I objected.”
Perceiving a possible connection between Kozeri and the murder, Yanagisawa fumed at the thought of such valuable information in Sano’s hands.
“I pointed out reasons he should consider Kozeri irrelevant to the case,” Hoshina said. “He won’t ignore her, but I managed to convince him to put off following up on her until after he interviews the suspects.”
“Good,” Yanagisawa said. Perhaps Hoshina’s initiative was an asset rather than a liability; his quick thinking had bought Yanagisawa time to send someone to investigate Kozeri before Sano could. Admiration for Hoshina increased Yanagisawa’s desire, although another man’s wits had never attracted him before. His past lovers had been young maidens, adolescent boys, or frail, older men like the shogun-all physically smaller and weaker than himself, and intellectually inferior. The unexpected departure from habit troubled Yanagisawa.
“What else did Sano find?” he asked Hoshina.
The yoriki reached into the pouch at his waist and removed a small object. Yanagisawa extended his open palm; Hoshina reached up and placed a coin in it. Their hands touched. The warm contact of flesh against flesh startled Yanagisawa; he stifled a gasp. For an instant, their gazes held. Hoshina smiled uncertainly, his boldness vanished. Something incomprehensible passed between them. To hide his confusion, Yanagisawa examined the
