suspect. He still doubted her ability to accomplish anything worth the risk of her life. Knowing this, Reiko would surely repudiate his sympathy as a mere ploy to win her affection against her will. Sano cast about for a neutral topic of conversation, but anything he might say could lead to the central issue of her independence-his authority- and another quarrel.
“Good night, ' Sano said at last.
With a swish of silk garments and a whiff of jasmine, Reiko slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her. More despondent than ever, Sano sat alone at his desk. Her presence still lingered: a clear, rippling stream slowly carving its path through the bedrock of his soul. Yet unless they could somehow get beyond this terrible impasse, they were doomed to live like strangers, together yet apart. Love seemed a hopeless dream.
Against his better judgment, Sano poured himself another cup of sake. Then, sipping the lukewarm liquor, he turned his thoughts to another unhappy lover, Lieutenant Kushida. The palace guard represented Sano’s best chance to conclude the murder investigation quickly, and with his life intact. However, as he scanned the detectives’ report on Kushida, his spirits waned further. No incriminating evidence had been found in his background or his quarters. That left Sano right where he’d started: with Kushida’s statement, and the attempted burglary.
Sano reached over to the built-in shelves of his study niche and removed Lady Harume’s diary. Riffling through the pages, he again wondered why Lieutenant Kushida had wanted to steal them. Then Sano noticed something he’d missed before. He held the open diary near the lamp for closer scrutiny.
Tiny ink marks filled the inner margins of the pages, where the silk cord joined them. Sano untied the cord and separated the sheets. The marks were the fine outer brushstrokes of characters that Lady Harume had written along the edge of the middle pages, then hidden beneath the binding. Arranged sequentially, they read:
Lying together in the shadows between two existences,
Skin touching bare skin,
Your breath joins mine; your sighs fill my depths
And our blood sings to the rhythm of a single heartbeat.
As you explore the secret places of my body
I open myself to your touch
Ah, if only I could take all of you inside me
So that we might never part.
But alas! Your rank and fame endanger us.
We can never walk together in daylight.
Yet love is eternal; you are mine forever, as I am yours,
In spirit, though not in marriage.
Sano reread the lines with repressed jubilation. Harume’s expression of eternal love didn’t reflect Lady Keisho- in’s complaints of betrayal. She must have been involved with someone else, whom she’d loved so much that she couldn’t resist committing her emotions to paper despite the fear of discovery.
But who was this lover of public reputation and unspecified name? Any man would be condemned to death for bedding the shogun’s favorite concubine; even a woman could earn the same fate by usurping Lady Harume’s affection. How had this particular individual’s position worsened the danger? Had the affair occasioned the earlier attempts on her life?
Sano cautioned himself against hoping too much for a lead that pointed away from Lady Keisho-in. Perhaps Harume had been writing about the shogun’s mother during a happier phase of their relationship. Though Sano knew that love often surmounts the barriers of age, he wanted to believe that Harume had accepted old, homely Keisho-in’s advances only to gain privileges. He wanted to believe that the hidden verse implicated someone else.
Lieutenant Kushida had denied sexual contact with Harume, but what if he’d lied? Maybe he’d tried to steal the diary because he feared Harume had named him as her lover. The impassioned tone of the verse and the sexual acts suggested didn’t fit Harume’s arrangement with Lord Miyagi, but their liaison could have later evolved beyond his spying at her through windows, despite his denials. It wasn’t uncommon for a worldly older man to win a young girl’s affection. Either the daimyo or Lieutenant Kushida might have killed Harume to prevent the affair from being exposed, or the shogun from finding out that the suspect had impregnated her.
Or perhaps there was another, yet unknown lover in Harume’s past.
Sano must investigate the possibility. But for now he invested his hopes in Lieutenant Kushida and Lord Miyagi as the prime suspects.
25
The bathchamber of the Miyagi mansion was similar to those in any of Edo ’s great daimyo estates. A sunken wooden tub full of hot water steamed in the center of the spacious room. Shelves held rinse buckets, drying cloths, rice-bran soap, and jars of scented oil. A slatted floor allowed spilled water to flow into drains below. Charcoal braziers heated the air. But this particular bathchamber also had two unusual features.
A bamboo screen enclosed one corner, and in the wall, a tiny sliding door was inset at eye level. Lady Miyagi knelt on a cushion in the enclosure. Hearing footsteps, she tensed, alert to her husband’s arrival. The spyhole door slid open, and she sensed his anticipation as he looked into the bathchamber, awaiting the entertainment she’d arranged for him. She clapped, the signal for the ritual to begin.
The door opened. In walked Lord Miyagi’s concubines, Snowflake and Wren. Both wore dressing gowns, their long hair pinned up. Chattering together, they did not appear aware of their lord watching through the spyhole. Nor did they seem to notice Lady Miyagi, although the screen only hid her from the daimyo and she was clearly visible to them. At the Zojo Temple orphanage four years ago, she’d inspected all the girls, seeking the right combination of cleverness and docility, before taking these two home with her. She’d trained Snowflake and Wren in the art of pleasing her husband. Now they were superb actresses. As if oblivious to the presence of master and mistress, they slipped off their robes.
From behind the spyhole, Lord Miyagi sighed. Lady Miyagi smiled, vicariously enjoying his pleasure at the sight of his concubines’ naked bodies. Snowflake had large breasts with prominent nipples. Wren, small of bosom, had wide, curving hips. They complemented each other perfectly, and Lady Miyagi could feel the heat of her husband’s excitement, like flames licking the wall. Snowflake picked up a bucket and doused herself with water. Squatting, she scrubbed her arms with soap. To Wren, she said coyly, 'Will you wash my back?”
Giggling, Wren complied, then lathered Snowflake’s bosom. Snow-flake cooed with apparent delight. She closed her eyes and sighed as Wren fondled her breasts, pinching and sucking the nipples.
Lady Miyagi heard her husband moan. She knew he was taking his manhood out of his loincloth, stroking it. Wren cast an oblique glance at Lady Miyagi, who gestured for her to continue touching Snowflake. Lord Miyagi enjoyed this drawn-out erotic play. Lady Miyagi didn’t know-or care-whether the concubines did, or if they only feigned pleasure out of duty to the master who fed and sheltered them, or fear of their mistress’s anger lest they disobey. But she herself felt no physical response. An early experience had destroyed her capacity for sexual pleasure.
As a child of a secondary branch of the Miyagi clan, she’d grown up on this estate. Back then the house had always been full of people. The former daimyo-her husband’s father-had loved hosting lavish parties. At one of these, eleven-year-old Miyagi Akiko had met an uncle newly arrived from Tosa Province. Ten years her senior, Uncle Kaoru had charmed her with his good looks and friendliness. She’d begun tagging after him, bringing him little gifts of flowers and sweets. In a childish way, she fell in love.
Then one night, her bedchamber door slid open. Kaoru whispered, 'Come with me, Akiko. I have a surprise for you.”
Eagerly she accompanied him out into the warm summer night. With Kaoru’s strong hand holding hers, Akiko felt a mounting excitement that she didn’t understand. He led her into the stables. Horses stirred at their approach. Akiko’s heart thumped as Kaoru drew her into a vacant stall, where moonlight streamed through the open window and fresh straw covered the floor.
Kaoru’s eyes gleamed with a strange intensity. “Do you love me, Akiko-chan?”
“… Yes.” Uneasily she backed away.
