end.
Then, as Sano replaced items in the cabinet, he picked up a blue silk purse with embroidered white peonies and a red drawstring. There was a bulge inside. Opening the purse, Sano removed a folded square of unbleached muslin. Curious, he unfolded it. Inside was a wad of black hair and three fingernails, apparently pried off the flesh, with dead skin around the edges. Revulsion twisted Sano’s mouth. He didn’t remember Harume’s corpse missing any nails, and surely Dr. Ito would have noticed during the examination. Where had Harume gotten the grisly relics, and for what purpose?
A possible answer occurred to Sano, but it seemed incongruous, and he didn’t see how his discovery related to the murder. Rewrapping the muslin around the nails and hair, he replaced them in the purse, which he tucked inside the drawstring pouch at his waist for later contemplation. Then he began a meticulous reinspection of Lady Harume’s other possessions. What other evidence might he have missed?
When he was refolding the orange lilies-and-ivy kimono, its right sleeve crackled under his touch. Part of the sleeve’s hem felt stiffer than the rest. Folding it back, Sano saw loose threads where the stitching had been cut away. Excitement stirred in him. He inserted his hand into the hem and removed a folded sheet of thin paper. Tiny pink petals embedded in the paper gave it a feminine air, as did the faint scent of perfume and the spidery calligraphy that covered one side. Sano carried the letter over to the window and read:
You do not love me. Much as I try to believe otherwise, I cannot blind myself to the truth any longer. You smile and say all the right things because I command your obedience. But when I touch you, your body stiffens with distaste. When we are together, your eyes get a distant look, as if you would rather be elsewhere. When I speak, you do not really listen.
Is there someone you care for more than me? Alas! My spirit sickens with jealousy. But I must know: Who is it that has captured your affection?
Sometimes I feel like throwing myself at your feet and begging for your love. Other times I want to strike you for denying my soul’s desire. Woe is me! If I committed seppuku, I would not have to endure this misery!
But I do not want to die. What I really want is to see you suffer as I do. I could stab you and watch the blood run out. I could poison you and delight in your agony. As you plead for mercy, I will only laugh and say: “This is how it feels!”
If you won’t love me, I will kill you!
The letter bore neither date nor salutation, but the signature seemed to rise up off the page and fill Sano’s vision. Dread settled upon him like the dense, cold weight of a heavy snow that had fallen on Edo several winters ago, collapsing roofs and blocking streets. The writer of the letter was Lady Keisho-in.
This new clue turned the murder case in a different, perilous direction. Sano saw how wrong he’d been to think he’d accurately assessed the scope of the investigation. Here was proof that the shogun’s mother’s relationship with Harume had been more than just one mistress and attendant. During the interview with Keisho-in, her expressions of maternal fondness for Harume had been pure deception. Sano had thought the old woman stupid, yet she’d tricked him by concealing her destructive rage toward Lady Harume. Now Keisho-in joined the array of murder suspects.
The letter established her motive, in her own, handwritten words. As ruler of the Large Interior, she had access to all the women’s rooms and spies to keep her informed on every aspect of their lives. She could have seen the ink jar when it arrived at Edo Castle, read the accompanying letter, and recognized a perfect opportunity to kill Harume and have someone else blamed for the murder. She had servants to seek out rare poisons, and the wealth to purchase them. Between these factors and the letter, Sano had enough evidence to warrant a serious investigation of Lady Keisho-in-and perhaps even a murder charge against her.
Sano could see an additional reason why Lady Keisho-in might have wanted Harume dead-a motive even stronger than embittered love. Keisho-in must have known about Harume’s pregnancy, which held special ramifications for her. Now the case against Lieutenant Kushida, the Miyagi, and Lady Ichiteru diminished in comparative significance. But the evidence in Sano’s hand possessed the dangerous. power of a double-edged blade. It opened a whole new line of inquiry, which might provide the truth about Lady Harume’s murder and spare Sano the death penalty for failing to solve the case. But following the lead could ruin him anyway.
Sano didn’t even want to think about what could happen, and wished he’d never found the letter. If only he’d limited his attention to the previous suspects and evidence, and never learned about Keisho-in’s unhappy love affair with Harume! Perhaps she was innocent. By omitting her from his investigation, Sano could save himself. Slowly he began to tear the letter in two.
Yet honor would not let him evade the truth. Justice must be served, even at the cost of his own life. Reluctantly Sano folded the letter and tucked it inside his pouch with the purse of fingernails and hair clippings.
He would postpone dealing with the document for as long as possible. But sooner or later, unless he found conclusive evidence against Lieutenant Kushida, Lady Ichiteru, the Miyagi, or someone else, deal with it he must.
20
A squadron of mounted samurai rode sedately along the highway on Edo ’s western outskirts. The Tokugawa triple-hollyhock crest decorated the horses’ equipage, banners mounted on poles attached to the riders’ backs, and the huge black palanquin that followed. The open windows of the palanquin framed two faces.
Lady Keisho-in, her double chin bobbing in time with the bearers’ steps, gazed out at the landscape.”Beautiful!” she exclaimed, admiring the scarlet-and-gold foliage of the woods and the misty hills beyond. Her powdered and rouged face wore a gap-toothed smile. “I can’t wait to see the site of the future Tokugawa Dog Kennels. Are we almost there?”
The man seated opposite in the sedan chair watched Lady Keisho-in. He had a handsome profile, with a high brow, long nose, heavy-lidded eyes, and the full, curved lips of a Buddha statue. His shaven scalp accentuated the sculpted bones of his head. At age forty-two, Priest Ryuko had been Lady Keisho-in’s companion and spiritual leader for ten years. His association with her made him the highest-ranking cleric in Japan, as well as indirect adviser to Tokugawa Tsunayoshi. Ryuko had suggested this outing, as he had many other past schemes. Despite the cold, damp weather, Keisho-in had acquiesced, as she usually did. He’d convinced her that it was necessary for her to inspect the building of the kennels, a special project of theirs.
Yet Ryuko harbored another, more personal motive. The kennels wouldn’t be completed for several years, and in any case, their construction didn’t require Lady Keisho-in’s help. Ryuko had important business to discuss with her, away from Edo Castle and its many spies. Her future-and, therefore, his-might depend on the outcome of the investigation into Lady Harume’s murder. They must protect their mutual interests.
“We shall arrive soon,” Ryuko said, tucking the quilts more comfortably around Lady Keisho-in. He warmed her gnarled old hands in his strong ones, murmuring, “Patience,” as much to himself as to her.
Keisho-in preened under Ryuko’s attentions. Presently the palanquin rounded a curve in the road, and Ryuko ordered the bearers to stop. He helped Lady Keisho-in out, throwing a padded cloak over her shoulders. To the east, fields led to a village of thatched huts; beyond, the city, invisible beneath a heavy pall of fog, extended to the Sumida River. On the west side of the road, a huge expanse of forest had been reduced to a wasteland of jagged stumps. Woodcutters hacked down more trees, the ring of their axes echoing over the hills. Peasants sawed logs and hauled away branches, while samurai foremen directed the work. A team of architects consulted plans drawn on huge sheets of paper. The sweet, pungent smell of wet sawdust filled the air. Lady Keisho-in gasped with awe.
“Wonderful!” Leaning on Ryuko’s arm, she stepped off the road and minced toward the construction site.
As laborers knelt and bowed at her approach and the architects came to pay their respects, Ryuko signaled everyone to return to work. He wanted noise to mask his conversation with Lady Keisho-in. But first the guided tour, to fulfill the ostensible purpose of the expedition.
“Here will be the main entrance, with statues of dogs at the door,” Ryuko said, leading Lady Keisho-in to the eastern edge of the clearing. Slowly he walked her around the site. “Here will be rooms to house cages for twenty thousand dogs. The walls will be decorated with paintings of woods and fields, so that the animals can feel that
