questions.
Yanagisawa sat at the shoshidai’s right, with his three bodyguards behind him. Clad in rich silk robes, he looked his usual self, although his complexion still had a sickly gray pallor. “I’ve been traveling through Omi Province on business for the shogun. Since that business is finished, I have decided to lend my assistance to the sosakan- sama’s investigation into the murders at the Imperial Palace.”
“That is very generous of you.” The shoshidai smiled, obviously deceived by Yanagisawa’s genial manner.
But Sano had perceived the resentful undertone in Yanagisawa’s voice, and knew how humiliating it was for the chamberlain to bow to blackmail. “Yes, his help will constitute a major improvement.” Over his sabotage, Sano thought, glancing at Yanagisawa, who shot him a covert, venomous look.
“My troops, clerks, and other staff are at your service,” said the shoshidai.
“Since I’m traveling with a very small retinue,” Yanagisawa said, “that is much appreciated.”
Sano knew he would have to keep a close watch in case Yanagisawa recruited new henchmen to work against him.
“I wish that Yoriki Hoshina, my senior police commander, were here,” the shoshidai said. “He’s a most capable detective who has been assisting the sosakan-sama. But Hoshina-san seems to have disappeared.”
“A pity,” said Yanagisawa.
Subtle menace shaded the chamberlain’s voice. Sano hoped he could keep Hoshina hidden long enough to finish the case. However, that would still leave the problem of what to do with Hoshina afterward. He couldn’t protect the yoriki from Yanagisawa’s wrath indefinitely.
“Of course you’ll be needing a place to live while in Miyako,” the shoshidai said to Yanagisawa. “I regret that Nijo Castle is undergoing a major renovation at the moment, but you can stay at Nijo Manor with the sosakan- sama.”
“The renovation is suspended as of now,” Yanagisawa said, and Sano knew how much he wanted to avoid sharing the same roof. “I’ll move into Nijo Castle at once.”
“Well, all right.” The shoshidai sounded doubtful, but not even the shogun’s cousin dared challenge the most powerful man in Japan.
“We’ll be going now,” Sano said. “We have much work to do, and I must brief the Honorable Chamberlain on the status of the investigation.”
Outside, they mounted their horses in the narrow lane crowded with the strolling dignitaries of Miyako’s administrative district. Low clouds hid the distant hills, but the sun had burned the morning mist from the sky; heat shimmered in the air. Sano felt sweaty, rank, and in dire need of a bath.
Yanagisawa said in a surly voice, “I suppose you found that farce of cooperation and friendly camaraderie amusing.”
“Not so much amusing as necessary.” Sano hoped that making their partnership public would force Yanagisawa to behave honorably, although he had his doubts.
“As for briefing me,” Yanagisawa said, “that’s unnecessary because I already know everything you know. And I’ve told you everything Hoshina withheld from you.”
They’d talked during the ride to town, but Sano didn’t believe Yanagisawa had really made a full disclosure. “I want your metsuke dossiers on the Imperial Court,” Sano said, having guessed that Yanagisawa had plundered the records in Edo before he’d read them. “I also want the material you took from Left Minister Konoe’s office.”
“Fine. I’ll send it to Nijo Manor.” Yanagisawa sat astride his horse, with his bodyguards flanking him. “That’s all I’m willing to do for today. I still feel very unwell, and I need to rest. Farewell until tomorrow.”
The chamberlain and his guards rode away. Sano set off toward Nijo Manor. The first thing he needed to do was to see Reiko. Second, he must assign men to spy on Yanagisawa.
When Reiko rode up to Nijo Manor in her palanquin, Detective Fukida was waiting for her outside the gate. “Where have you been?” he cried.
“I’ve been investigating my husband’s murder,” Reiko said, climbing out of the palanquin. Afire with excitement, she explained how she and Lady Jokyoden had gone to Left Minister Konoe’s secret house in the textile district, then showed Fukida the scrap of notes she’d found in the charcoal brazier. “Look. I’m sure this means the left minister was spying on Lord Ibe, who might be connected to the murders.”
Fukida frowned. “You went to the palace?” he said. “On your own?”
“Yes. Lady Jokyoden told me that Lord Ibe has a house in the cloth dyers’ district where he stays when he visits Miyako. We must go there right now!”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Fukida said. “Perhaps we should wait.”
“For what?” Reiko said, perplexed, then incredulous. “Do you intend to sit idle while your master’s killer goes free?”
Instead of meeting Reiko’s eyes, Fukida gazed around the bright, bustling street. “The sosakan-sama told me to watch over you. I must obey his orders. I can’t take you to Lord Ibe’s house or anywhere else that might be dangerous.”
“Then go yourself,” Reiko said.
“I can’t leave you.”
“Where is Detective Marume? He could go.”
Fukida looked so miserable that Reiko pitied him, but she was angry at his refusal to help her avenge Sano’s death. “All right,” she said. “If you won’t take me, then I’ll go alone.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that.” Fukida turned to Reiko’s palanquin bearers and guards and said, “You’re not to take her on any more trips without my permission.”
The bearers and guards bowed, chorusing, “Yes, Fukida-san.”
“You can’t do this!” Reiko cried, infuriated.
“Please go inside, Honorable Lady Reiko,” said Fukida.
She glared at him in helpless rage. Tears rushed to her eyes as the grief she’d suppressed all morning resurfaced. Head high, she entered the inn, walked into her room, and shut the door so hard that the frame rattled. Alone, she fought the impulse to lie down and weep. She changed her silk kimono for a simple blue cotton one, and her high-soled shoes for comfortable straw sandals. She strapped a dagger to her arm under her sleeve. Then she peered out the windows and door to look for Fukida. He was nowhere in sight; he’d underestimated her determination. Reiko slipped out of Nijo Manor and began walking.
The hot sun beat down on her. Soon she was drenched in sweat and longing for a cool drink, but ladies didn’t carry money, and as a stranger in town, Reiko had no credit with Miyako vendors. Samurai on horseback and peasants carrying loads of supplies jostled past her through narrow streets lined with shops. Dust, horse manure, and filthy water from open drains soiled her shoes and hem. She avoided looking other pedestrians in the eye, praying that no one would accost her. Something in her expression must have warned off predators, because although some men leered, they left her alone. Perhaps they thought she was a madwoman. Exhausted and footsore, she finally reached the cloth dyers’ district northeast of Sanjo Bridge.
In workshops, craftsmen stirred steaming dye vats and painted designs on silk. Reiko followed a path beside the Kamo River, seeking Lord Ibe’s house. She knew that while the feudal lords occupied grand estates in Edo and their provinces, Tokugawa law forbade them to maintain residences in Miyako. Therefore, a daimyo who desired a home here would avoid the authorities’ notice by keeping a modest, discreet establishment. Reiko hadn’t asked how Lady Jokyoden knew where Lord Ibe’s illegal residence was. She would not allow herself to consider the possibility that the notes she’d pinned her hopes on were irrelevant to the murders and she’d come all this way for nothing.
Along the path on Reiko’s right, textile shops crowned the embankment; drying cloth flapped on roofs and balconies. On her left, dyers rinsed long, brilliantly colored fabrics in the river, turning clear water into a sea of painted flowers, landscapes, and geometric designs. Reiko followed Jokyoden’s directions up a path leading inland to a neighborhood of narrow, two-story houses behind high fences. Maids and porters hurried down the streets; bearers carried passengers in palanquins. Lord Ibe’s house was the second to last on its block, behind a double gate suspended between two square pillars capped with a gabled roof.
Reiko circled the block, covertly inspecting the area. Other houses showed signs of life-maids shaking brooms out windows, children playing in front-but bamboo blinds covered the balconies of Lord Ibe’s place. During an hour of watching, Reiko didn’t see anyone enter or leave. Nervously, she walked up to the gates and knocked on the
