they are outdoors.”
“Perfect!” exclaimed Lady Keisho-in, her eyes goggling. “I can see it all now.”
As the tour proceeded, Ryuko divided his concentration in two parts, according to long-standing habit. With the larger part he focused on Lady Keisho-in, watching for signs that she might be getting cold or tired, anticipating her need for flattery. Since his fortune depended on their relationship, he couldn’t afford to displease her. With the remainder of his mind he watched himself, monitoring his performance. He saw a slender holy man shod in modest wooden sandals, wearing a padded brown silk cloak over his saffron robe. His gaze had a wise, penetrating intensity that he’d practiced in the mirror until it became natural. His manner was dignified, his voice suavely cultivated. No trace remained of his humble origin.
Orphaned at age eight, Ryuko had come to Edo to seek his fortune. He’d found refuge at Zojo Temple, where the priests had fed, sheltered, clothed, and educated him. At fifteen, he’d taken religious vows. However, his tragic youthful experiences had endowed him with two contradictory traits, which prevented him from finding fulfillment in his vocation.
Ryuko hated poverty with a soul-searing passion. He would never forget the hardship of peasant life, slaving in the fields, with never enough to eat and no hope of a better existence. As a young priest, Ryuko had worked tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of Edo ’s poor. He solicited donations and distributed them to needy citizens. His work financed the care of orphans at Zojo Temple. Soon he gained a reputation as a man of selfless, merciful character. The poor worshipped him; his superiors praised him for enhancing the image of their sect. Yet another urge compelled Ryuko.
He also remembered prostrating himself on the ground as the local daimyo passed by. Lord Kuroda and his retainers rode splendidly caparisoned horses. Their faces were plump from the food produced by the peasants’ labor. They beat anyone who failed to meet the crop quota. How Ryuko had hated them! And how he’d envied their wealth and power. He wanted to be like them, instead of a poor peasant boy.
The desire grew stronger during Ryuko’s early years as a priest. At Zojo-home temple of the Tokugawa clan-he had plenty of opportunity to observe the splendor that money could buy. A devout Buddhist, Ryuko desired the spiritual enlightenment that would release him from such worldly concerns. He prayed ever longer; he toiled even harder at charitable work. Using his natural flair for politics, he rose in the temple hierarchy. Yet still he craved wealth and power.
Then he’d met Lady Keisho-in.
Now Ryuko told his patroness, “And this will be a reception room for His Excellency when he visits the kennels.”
“Marvelous!” Lady Keisho-in let out a cackle of glee, whirling in girlish excitement. “Surely my son’s benevolence will convince fortune to bring him an heir. My dearest Ryuko, you were so wise to recommend building the kennels!”
When, after too many years, Tsunayoshi was still without a son, he’d grown concerned for the Tokugawa succession. Neither he nor his advisers welcomed the idea of designating a relative as the next dictator and ceding power to a different branch of the clan. Hence, Lady Keisho-in had turned to Ryuko for help. Through prayer and meditation, he’d found a mystical solution to the problem. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi must earn the right to an heir by atoning for the sins of his ancestors via some act of generosity. Since he’d been born in the year of the dog, what better gesture than to bestow his patronage upon dogs?
On Ryuko’s advice, Lady Keisho-in had persuaded Tokugawa Tsunayoshi to issue the Dog Protection Edicts, which furthered Ryuko’s goal of promoting animal welfare according to Buddhist tradition. When this didn’t produce the shogun’s desired results, Ryuko had proposed a more drastic action: the establishment of the kennels. Funds were levied from various daimyo; Edo ’s best carpenters would build the structure. Ryuko was certain that the successful birth of a Tokugawa heir would follow, strengthening Keisho-in’s influence with Tsunayoshi-and thus his own. But that time lay in the future. Now Ryuko wanted to make sure they lived to see it.
“Come and rest, my lady.” He seated his patroness on a tree stump, far from their waiting escorts. “We can watch the work on the site and enjoy a bit of conversation before we return to Edo Castle.”
With a puff of relief, Lady Keisho-in settled herself. “Ah, that feels good. You are so thoughtful, my dearest. Now, what shall we talk about?”
Ryuko studied her familiar features, breathed her familiar smell of perfume, tobacco smoke, and old age. They’d been together so long. He’d memorized her needs, her habits, her preferences-all the information essential to keeping her favor. Yet how well did he really know the most powerful woman in Japan? With a nostalgia sharpened by the present danger, he recalled the day they’d met.
Tokugawa Tsunayoshi had just succeeded to the rank of shogun, and Lady Keisho-in had come to Zojo Temple to pray for a long, prosperous reign for her son. She’d caught sight of Ryuko among the priests gathered to pay homage to their lord’s mother. Her ugly old face acquired an expression of bemused delight, a reaction that Ryuko often elicited from female worshippers who admired handsome priests. Halting her procession to the temple hall, she’d made his acquaintance. She’d taken a strong fancy to him, as she did to other young men who satisfied her need for companionship and sex. He had become her private spiritual leader, moving from Zojo Temple to chambers in Edo Castle so that she could have his counsel whenever required. Lady Keisho-in lavished gifts upon him and his religious order.
The temple complex grew in magnificence; its residents prospered.
Keisho-in slavishly followed Ryuko’s advice, often influencing the shogun to do the same. Money poured out of the Tokugawa treasury, funding subsidiary temples and charitable work. To Ryuko, a relationship with an unattractive woman twenty years his senior seemed a small price to pay.
He neither loved nor desired his patroness, but encouraged her infatuation with him. Forsaking his monastic life, he became her lover. He tolerated her moods and demands; he flattered her vanity. Under his contempt for her silliness, he felt a poignant sense of comradeship with Lady Keisho-in. They were both commoners who had risen to unexpected heights. And he was truly grateful to her for giving him everything he needed: wealth and power; spiritual fulfillment and the chance to do good.
In this mutually satisfactory manner they’d spent a decade together; Ryuko had expected the arrangement to last indefinitely. Keisho-in, healthy for an old woman, seemed in no danger of dying anytime soon. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi was young enough to serve many more years as shogun-and probably would, if an heir didn’t appear. But after the murder of Lady Harume, the future seemed uncertain. Ryuko knew how fast fortunes could rise or fall in the bakufu; sometimes, a mere rumor could destroy a life. Sosakan Sano’s inquiry posed a dire threat to Lady Keisho-in. And the threat had tentacles, like an octopus, which could reach out and strangle everyone within her close circle-including Ryuko.
“My sources tell me that Sosakan Sano is doing an extremely thorough job investigating Lady Harume’s murder,” Ryuko said, easing into his subject of concern. He must be very careful about handling Lady Keisho-in. “Detectives are all over the Large Interior. Hirata has leads on the source of the poison. Lieutenant Kushida is under arrest, but not yet charged with murder. It appears that Sano isn’t seeking an easy way out. Instead he’s living up to his reputation for pursuing the truth, regardless of the consequences.”
Ryuko paused. Then, because Keisho-in rarely responded to subtle hints, he added a clearer warning: “One might wish to exercise caution under these circumstances.”
“Oh, yes, Sano is a fine detective,” Lady Keisho-in said, missing the point. “And I like young Hirata.” She giggled. “I think he likes me, too.”
She could be so frivolous, even at a time like this! Hiding his impatience, Ryuko said, “My lady, Sano’s investigation may turn up information that is detrimental to… any number of persons. No one is safe from scrutiny.”
“You say things in a way that I can’t understand,” Keisho-in complained. “Whatever are you talking about? Who’s in danger?”
Her denseness forced blunt speech. “You, my lady,” Ryuko said reluctantly.
“Me?” Keisho-in’s rheumy eyes widened in surprise. Evidently she’d given no thought to how the murder investigation might affect her. Then she smiled, reaching up to pat Ryuko’s arm. “I appreciate your concern, dearest, but I have nothing to fear from Sano or anyone else.”
Ryuko studied her guileless face with confusion. He’d thought himself adept at reading her after all these years, but now he couldn’t tell whether she spoke the truth. “Your relationship with Lady Harume was… shall we say… less than innocent,” Ryuko reminded Keisho-in.
