“And before being placed flat in bed,” Sano said.
Dr. Ito told Mura to turn over the body. As Mura flopped the corpse onto its stomach, Sano’s attention was riveted on Makino’s back. Red and purple bruises marked the shoulder blades and rib cage.
“It looks as though he was beaten,” Sano said.
“And with violent force,” said Dr. Ito. “Observe the raw tissue where the blows broke the skin.” He wrapped a clean cloth around his hand, then palpated Makino’s ribs. “Some of the ribs are broken.”
“Did the beating kill Makino?” said Sano.
“Certainly the blows could have caused fatal internal injuries,” Dr. Ito said. “I’ve seen beatings less severe than this kill men much hardier than Makino was.” He turned to Mura. “Please remove the cap.”
Mura bared Makino’s bony, age-speckled scalp and thin gray topknot.
Sano saw another bruise that had dented Makino’s skull and split open the skin behind his right ear.
“If I must hazard a guess as to which injury killed him, this will be my choice.” Dr. Ito contemplated the damaged skull, then added, “It probably bled much, as head wounds do. But there’s no blood on Makino. He appears to have been washed, then dressed in clean clothing.”
“The head injury would account for the blood on the floor of Makino’s study,” Sano said. “The beating supports the theory that he died there, of an attack by an intruder.” Sano perused a mental picture of the study. “But I didn’t find a weapon. And the theory doesn’t explain why his body was moved, cleaned, and put to bed, while the evidence of an assassination was allowed to remain.” Sano had more reason for his reluctance to accept the scenario. Reporting that Makino had been assassinated would throw the bakufu into even greater turmoil.
“Maybe the killer didn’t have time to restore order in the study,” Dr. Ito said. “Maybe he needed to escape before he was caught, and he fled with the weapon.”
Sano nodded, as unable to discount these ideas as prove them. “But there’s still the sleeve to consider. I can’t help thinking it’s an important clue. I also have a hunch that sex, not necessarily politics, was involved in the murder.”
Dr. Ito walked with his slow, stiff gait around the table, scrutinizing Makino’s corpse. He suddenly halted and said, “You may be right.”
“What do you see?” Sano said.
“A different sort of injury. Mura-san, please spread the buttocks.”
The eta pried them apart with his fingers. The crack between the cheeks stretched open. Raw, abraded flesh circled Makino’s anus and extended into the orifice.
“When I was a physician, I saw this symptom in men who had been penetrated by other men during sex,” Dr. Ito said. “It’s most common in boys and young men.” Good looks, and relatively low status, made them fair game for older, wealthier, more powerful men who practiced manly love. “However, it does occur in older males.”
Accepted custom for manly love dictated that an elder partner should always penetrate a younger one. Ideally, the one penetrated should also be of inferior social status. When a man reached age nineteen, he should assume the role of the elder and never again experience penetration himself. But some men so enjoyed penetration that they continued receiving it as long as they lived. This was the case with the previous shogun, often criticized for his unseemly violation of custom.
“But Makino’s preference for women was well-known,” Sano said. “Besides, he would never have abased himself to anyone.”
“Men have been known to hide practices that would compromise their reputations,” Dr. Ito said. “However, there is an alternative explanation.”
“Makino was forced to submit?”
“Yes-by an attacker who overpowered and penetrated him.”
Shaking his head, Sano blew out his breath. “This case gets stranger with each new clue. The sleeve suggests that a woman killed Makino in the bedchamber. But the disorder and the blood in his study say he was beaten to death there. And the broken window latch suggests that an assassin entered his estate and killed him. Sometime during whatever happened, he was penetrated by a lover, or an attacker. The motive was sexual, or political.” Sano counted off possibilities on his fingers, then upturned his empty palm.
“But the evidence is misleading, or perhaps false. Maybe the vital clues were destroyed by whoever tried to make Makino’s death look natural in spite of all the signs to the contrary. Maybe none of those stories is true.”
“Or maybe each contains part of the truth,” Dr. Ito said.
Sano nodded, his mind sorting and recombining the evidence into ever more baffling patterns. “Can you look for other clues on Makino that might resolve the contradictions?”
But although Dr. Ito spent the next hour poring over the corpse with a magnifying glass, he found nothing more. “I am sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” he said. “What will you do now?”
“I’ll continue investigating.” Sano had a disturbing sense that he’d embarked on a journey to an unknown destination, from which there would be no return.
He liked a challenge, and his desire for the truth had strengthened with the first intimation of foul play against Makino. Yet now that he was sure Makino had been murdered, the matter involved more than a favor to a dead man or a personal quest for justice. For the next step in his journey, he must carry his investigation into the public realm, an arena fraught with hazards.
4
In the private chambers of Sano’s estate, Reiko and her friend Midori, the wife of Sano’s chief retainer Hirata, sat with their children at the kotatsu in the nursery. Coals burned inside the square wooden frame of the kotatsu. Its flat top formed a table, over which was spread a quilt that contained the heat from the coals, covered everyone’s legs, and kept them warm. Lanterns brightened the gloom of the day. Maids placed a meal of soup, rice, roasted fish, and pickled vegetables on the table. While Reiko’s son Masahiro hungrily gobbled food, Taeko, five months old, nursed at Midori’s breast.
Reiko watched the cozy scene as if from a distance. Ever since she’d arrived home from the island where the Dragon King had held her, Midori, the shogun’s mother, and Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s wife captive, she’d inhabited a dimension separate from everyone else. What had happened during the abduction, and on that island, enclosed her in private shadow that nothing could dispel.
“This morning, I found that Taeko had crept up beyond the head of her bed while she slept,” Midori said. Her pretty face was still plump from the weight she’d gained during pregnancy. She lovingly stroked her daughter’s glossy black hair. “That’s a sign that she’ll rise high in the world.”
Superstitions connected with infants abounded, and Midori took them seriously. “Hirata-san hung a picture of a devil beating a prayer gong in Taeko’s room. Now she doesn’t cry at night. Hirata-san is such a good papa.” Her tone bespoke her love for her husband.
“Mama, why do ladies shave their eyebrows?” Masahiro said, his mouth full of food. Almost three years old, he had a lively curiosity about the world. “When is it going to snow?”
Reiko automatically smiled, conversed, and ate. But the distance between herself and her companions worried her, as did the other ill effect wrought by the kidnapping.
After her rescue and a quiet month at home, she’d thought herself recovered from the horrors she’d experienced. But the first time she’d ventured outside the estate after her homecoming had proved her wrong. She’d gone to visit her father, and she’d been enjoying the trip, until her palanquin, bearers, and mounted escorts reached the official district outside Edo Castle. Suddenly, as if by evil magic, Reiko was transported back to the highway where the kidnappers had ambushed her and her friends. Memories of the attack came, terrifyingly real. Her heart hammered in panic; vertigo assailed her.
The spell lasted only an instant. Reiko decided that it had been a mental fluke that wouldn’t recur.
But it did, several days later, when she went out again. Panic struck the moment Reiko cleared the Edo Castle gate. The next time, the spell started before her palanquin left her own courtyard, and it affected her so badly that she ran back into the house. Soon the mere thought of leaving home triggered the pounding heart, vertigo, and panic. Fear of the spells triggered more of them. Reiko tried to cure herself with meditation and martial arts practice. She took medicine composed of dragon bones and sweet flag root to combat nervous hysteria. Nothing
