of Minister Ogyu who runs the shogun’s Confucian academy.” Social custom prohibited calling on a stranger without an introduction from a mutual acquaintance, and Reiko didn’t want to barge in on Lady Ogyu and make her suspicious. She didn’t have the excuse of a funeral and a political connection, as she’d had with the Hosokawa women.
“Who does your husband think she killed?”
“No one,” Reiko said, taken aback. “This isn’t for an investigation.”
“Spare me.” Her grandmother flicked a slender, elegant hand at Reiko. “Why else would you want to meet such a dull little woman? Why would you be interested in anyone except those murderers that you like to hobnob with?”
“This is important. I can’t tell you why.” Reiko put on her most humble, conciliatory manner. “Please. I need your help.”
The old woman smiled, gratified. “Lady Ogyu is my sister-in-law’s great-niece. But I won’t introduce you to her unless you tell me what this is all about.”
“Very well. But you must promise me that you won’t pass it on.”
“I’ll take it to my grave, which probably won’t happen soon enough for your liking.”
“There has been a murder,” Reiko admitted. “Lady Ogyu is a potential witness. She can’t be allowed to know that I’m investigating her for my husband.”
“Who was murdered?” The old woman leaned forward, rapacious in her curiosity.
“A woman named Usugumo. She was an incense teacher.”
Her grandmother uttered a scornful sound. “You’re holding out on me, child. Your husband wouldn’t bother investigating the death of one commoner, not when he’s got his hands full with earthquake problems and keeping the shogun happy. Now let’s have it!”
Reiko had no choice but to part with more information. “The other victims were Lord Hosokawa’s daughters.”
Shock wiped the crankiness off the old woman’s face. “Great Buddha! Now I understand. Lord Hosokawa is a very powerful daimyo. He could make trouble for the Tokugawa regime. I can imagine how badly he wants his children avenged. If your husband doesn’t find out who killed them, Lord Hosokawa could even decide to start a war.”
Her view of the situation was so astute that Reiko blinked.
“I’ll write a letter to Lady Ogyu, saying that I’m sending you to see how she fared during the earthquake, so that you can report back to me. That should do.” The old woman ground ink, dipped her brush, and wrote on thick white rice paper, stamped the finished letter with her signature seal, and rolled it into a lacquer scroll container. When Reiko put out her hand for it, she held it out of reach. “If I give you this, you must tell me how the investigation turns out.”
Reiko hoped that when the investigation was finished, she would have such a good story to tell that she could withhold any dangerous parts and her grandmother wouldn’t notice. “Yes, Grandmother,” she said, taking the letter.
18
After finishing his inquiries, Sano worked late in his office at home. He went over the day’s events with his aides. Hearing the urgent messages from officials who’d come to see him, he felt guilty and disturbed because his absence had enraged many of them. In the volatile, post-earthquake climate, hostilities bred like flies. Sano hoped he could solve the crime before he made too many new enemies. He left orders with his aides and authorized them to field requests and act as his deputies until the investigation was finished.
By that time, most of his household had retired. A maid asked if he wanted dinner. Sano said yes; he was starving. He tiptoed past rooms crowded with his sleeping retainers. The house seemed to expand and contract with their snores. He went to the small room that served as a bath chamber, stripped, scrubbed, and rinsed. He longed for a warm soak, but there was no space for a tub. The room was so cold that while he dried himself and put on his night robe, he shivered uncontrollably. Charcoal was becoming scarce; everyone conserved it at night. He ate his miso soup and noodles and drank his tea at his desk. Afterward he hurried to the family’s chamber.
Reiko, Masahiro, and Akiko were asleep in the bed, quilts piled on them, only their nightcaps showing. Sano climbed in between his wife and son. Reiko said drowsily, “Good, you’re home. How late is it?”
“Very late.” Sano basked in the body heat under the quilts. He pictured other families all over Edo bedded down together. The earthquake had fostered extra closeness, one of its few blessings.
“Did you see Priest Ryuko and Minister Ogyu?” Reiko whispered, trying not to waken the children.
“Yes.” Sano summarized the conversations, then said, “Priest Ryuko was as upset as any cornered criminal I’ve ever seen. Minister Ogyu, on the other hand, was pleasant and cooperative.” He described the man’s physical appearance. “Which made me suspicious.”
“So either of them could have poisoned the women?”
“Or neither. Have you discovered anything that might help determine whether they’re guilty or innocent?”
Reiko described her visit with Lady Keisho-in. Sano frowned as he listened to her news that Priest Ryuko and Madam Usugumo had quarreled.
“No matter the reason for the quarrel, it does sound like Priest Ryuko had a reason to want her dead,” Sano said.
“It sounds like Minister Ogyu didn’t.”
“What’s certain is that I brought my interest in the crime to the attention of two powerful men and I antagonized at least one of them,” Sano said ruefully. “And the investigation is no further ahead than before.”
Reiko murmured in concurrence and sympathy. “Has Hirata- san found out anything about Priest Ryuko or Minister Ogyu?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since he brought us Madam Usugumo’s book. He’s missing. Again.”
Reiko was silent. Sano knew she shared his worries about Hirata’s behavior. She didn’t want to punish Hirata any more than Sano did, especially since Hirata’s wife Midori was her friend. But they both knew that the situation was coming to a head. The earthquake seemed to have that effect on many situations.
“I’m sure he’ll be back by tomorrow with news.” Reiko snuggled closer to Sano.
“I’m not counting on it.” Sano yearned for the old days when a master could always trust his chief retainer to act in his best interests. Perhaps those days were just a fantasy. In reality, samurai were human and their personal interests often conflicted with duty. Sano couldn’t deny his own struggle between duty toward the shogun and his code of justice and honor. “I’d better start looking into Priest Ryuko’s and Minister Ogyu’s backgrounds myself.”
“I obtained a letter of introduction to Minister Ogyu’s wife,” Reiko said, “from my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother? You went to her?” Sano was surprised; he’d seen how badly the old woman treated Reiko.
“If I can learn something that helps us identify the killer, it will be worth a lifetime of her scolding and insults,” Reiko said.
“I saw Priest Ryuko today at the palace,” Masahiro said.
“Oh?” Sano had thought Masahiro was asleep, but of course he’d been listening to the conversation. “He’s been at Z o j o Temple leading prayers since the earthquake.”
“He has a room in the shogun’s guesthouse. He came back this evening.” Since he’d become a page, Masahiro was a font of information. “How about if I spy on him for you?”
“Only if you can do it without neglecting the shogun,” Sano said.
“Um…” Masahiro said.
Reiko raised herself on one elbow to look across Sano at their son. “What is it?”
“I have to tell you and Father something.” Pride and apprehension resonated in Masahiro’s voice. “Today the shogun put me in charge of his chambers.”
“How-” Sano began so loudly that Akiko whimpered and Reiko shushed him. He was pleased that Masahiro
