“You don’t believe me because you haven’t met Kozeri.”
“No,” said Reiko, “I haven’t.” Turning, she faced Sano, her tearful gaze hard, like a pond freezing into ice. “But it’s time I did meet her.”
Horrified at the thought, Sano said quickly, “That’s not a good idea. If Kozeri is the killer, she’s dangerous. She might hurt you. I already have the information about her relationship with Left Minister Konoe and his last visit to her. I only have to ask where she was during the murders. There’s no need for you to…”
The contempt in Reiko’s eyes halted his excuses. “But there is,” she said. “No matter whether Kozeri deceived you by magic or by feminine wiles, she’s done it twice, and she could do it again. I’ll have better luck getting answers from her.”
Sano saw two choices, equally unacceptable. He could give Reiko her way and risk the chance that Kozeri would tell her about the episode by the river. Or he could refuse, jeopardize the investigation, and destroy his marriage. With dread and resignation, Sano understood that he had no choice at all.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll go to Kodai Temple tomorrow morning.”
“Not tomorrow,” Reiko said grimly. “I want to go now.”
Reiko in her palanquin, Sano on horseback, and their guards traveled along crowded streets bright with Obon lanterns. At Kodai Temple, they discovered that Kozeri wasn’t at the convent because the nuns had gone to perform Obon dances at Gion Shrine. They journeyed there in silence. Since leaving Nijo Manor, Reiko had exchanged not a single word with Sano; her rage and pain were so intense that she could hardly bear to look at him. She couldn’t believe that nothing had happened between him and Kozeri. She hated her jealousy; she hated Sano for causing it.
A sudden, heart-stopping thought struck her. In all the recent excitement, she’d forgotten to track her female cycle. Now Reiko calculated that her monthly bleeding should have started yesterday. It still hadn’t. Missing twice in a row made pregnancy more certain. She became aware of a new fullness, a slight swelling, in her abdomen. She stared through the window of her palanquin at Sano riding beside her.
“Kozeri seems to spend as much time away from the convent as in it,” Reiko said. “Apparently, religious vows don’t restrict her movements or ban her from the Imperial Palace.”
“Apparently not,” was all Sano said, though she knew she’d stung him by implying that he shouldn’t have assumed a nun lacked freedom of movement or access to the crime scene. Yet her spite shamed her more than it relieved her anger.
Night had fallen, but the moist, smoky air reflected the lights of the city; the sky glowed an eerie purple. Gion’s teahouses glittered with parties. Boisterous drunks thronged alleys lined with “dog screens,” bamboo barriers that kept stray dogs and rowdy pedestrians away from the buildings. Sano and Reiko left their guards outside the shrine and walked through the torii gate. Bright lanterns hung from trees above the gay, noisy crowds that milled among refreshment stalls; gongs chimed incessantly. Reiko heard drumbeats, which she and Sano followed to a courtyard outside the shrine’s main building.
A line of women dressed in billowing white robes glided, swayed, and gestured with slow, ritualistic motions. In the light of lanterns strung across the courtyard, their shaved heads shone like pale moons. A rapt audience watched the nuns, who turned in unison, clapped, and formed a circle. Male dancers wearing loincloths and straw hats surrounded them. As the two groups moved in opposite directions, a melancholy song rose from the spectators.
“Which one is she?” Reiko said with deliberate calm.
Sano pointed. “That’s Kozeri between the two elderly nuns.” He added, “Please take care.”
Behind his stoic expression, Reiko read his fear of what she might learn from Kozeri-and what she might do. “Wait here,” she said.
She marched up to the dancers, watching Kozeri. The nun’s figure was shapely and graceful. Her heavy-lidded eyes were somnolent as she dipped and undulated; her full lips curved in a serene smile. As Sano had said, Kozeri wasn’t young, but she looked ageless rather than old. Her shaved head only accentuated her beauty. Reiko had always taken her own beauty for granted, but hatred and jealousy overcame her.
“Kozeri-san!” she shouted.
The nun turned. When she saw Reiko, a perplexed frown replaced her smile: She obviously wondered why a stranger should address her in such a peremptory tone.
“I want to speak with you,” Reiko said, following Kozeri as the circle of dancers revolved.
Uncertainty clouded Kozeri’s face, but she stepped out of the circle, joined Reiko, and bowed. “Yes, Honorable Lady?”
Her soft, breathy voice hinted at the allure she held for men. “I’m the wife of the shogun’s sosakan-sama,” Reiko announced with all the imperious pride of her class.
“Oh.” Kozeri looked dismayed. “I didn’t know he was married. I didn’t know he had brought his wife to Miyako.”
Of course Sano wouldn’t have told her, Reiko reflected bitterly. “I help my husband with his work,” she said. “We’re investigating the murder of the left minister together, and I want to ask you some questions.” Needing to show Kozeri that she and Sano had a close, special relationship, she didn’t hide her purpose behind the false pretense that this was a social call. “Come with me.”
Kozeri hesitated, then said, “Very well.”
As Reiko led Kozeri through the crowds, she saw Sano frowning and waving at her from across the courtyard, signaling her to stay. Reiko ignored him. She and Kozeri walked to a deserted garden behind the building. A lantern over the doorway shone through pine trees, casting a network of shadows across the grass. The chirp of crickets muffled the distant drumming and singing. Reiko and Kozeri faced each other. Kozeri folded her arms protectively across her bosom as she waited for Reiko to speak. Reiko was trembling inside, sick with a terrible curiosity.
What did he say to you? she wanted to ask. What did you do together?
Yet she did not, because she dreaded the answers. Instead she said, “Why didn’t you tell my husband that you were in the palace during the murder three nights ago?”
Kozeri’s face mirrored dismay at Reiko’s belligerence. “I was just visiting my family. It didn’t seem important.”
“I don’t believe that’s your only reason,” Reiko said coldly.
Kozeri darted a longing glance toward the lights of the courtyard. Then she sighed and looked at the ground. “I was afraid he would think I was the killer.”
“Are you?”
“No!” Kozeri stared at Reiko, aghast.
“Did you know that my husband was in the palace that night?” Reiko demanded.
“Not until the morning after, when my family received the news of his murder. Later we found out that it was somebody else who’d died.” Kozeri licked her lips nervously. “I don’t even know who the man was. I never left my family’s house that night.” With a timid, beseeching smile, Kozeri said, “I never meant to cause your husband any trouble. You must believe me.”
Reiko regarded her with scorn. “Your wiles won’t work on me. Right Minister Ichijo, Lady Jokyoden, Prince Momozono, and the emperor were all told that my husband was coming to the palace. I imagine that the news spread rapidly around the Imperial Court. You could have heard it and decided to kill my husband so he couldn’t arrest you for the murder of Left Minister Konoe. You sneaked out of your family’s house and went looking for him. But you found Chamberlain Yanagisawa and his men, and you mistook them for my husband’s party. You killed the wrong person.”
“That’s not so!” Kozeri cried in panic. “I didn’t kill anyone. Ask your husband. He knows-”
Her protests faded under Reiko’s glare; she sighed, bowed her head in defeat, and spoke in a low, forlorn voice: “All right. I’ll tell you what happened. The left minister came to Kodai Temple the day before he died. He said he was going to close down the convent and force me to return to him. Then he ordered me to come to the Pond Garden the next night, to celebrate a special occasion.” Kozeri swallowed hard. “I was terrified. When I was his wife, he beat me almost to death. I knew that if I had to live with him again, he would kill me. I had to save myself somehow.”
This story, which contradicted what Kozeri had told Sano about her marriage and the time and nature of her last encounter with Konoe, only increased Reiko’s distrust. “How could the left minister close down the convent,
