us.”
There was truth in what he said, Wisteria knew. The same outrage and self-righteousness that had inspired her plan was surging through her now. The bitter animosity that filled her heart now focused on Lightning.
She shrilled, “What about your grudges? Anyone who offends you had better watch out, because you don’t think before you act. You’re like a wild beast with no sense!”
“What did you call me?” His face distorted, teeth bared in a snarl, and his nostrils flared, Lightning indeed looked more animal than human. “You think I’m stupid? You’re the one who’s stupid if you think I’ll let you insult me. I’ll show you who’s in charge around here.”
Lightning jerked on her ankle, pulling her underwater. Wisteria shrieked as her head submerged. The hot water burned her eyes, filled her nose, gurgled in her mouth. She flailed her arms, fighting to raise herself above the surface, but he had hold of both her legs now, and he was too strong for her. Desperate, Wisteria writhed. Her body smacked against the hard bottom of the tub. She resisted the terrible urge to take a breath. Then Lightning let go. She burst up into the steamy air, gulping for breath. Rivulets streamed off her drenched head-cloth and over her face. In her blurred vision, Lightning loomed huge and monstrous.
“Apologize for what you said!” he commanded.
“No!” Wisteria was too incensed by his treatment of her. “You are a beast. I hate you!”
He planted his hands on her shoulders and shoved her downward. She strained against him while her neck, then her chin, sank beneath the water. “Somebody please help me!”
The noises from the couples in the brothel continued; no one answered her call. Forced below the surface, Wisteria clawed and kicked Lightning. Her heel found his groin, and she heard him yell, the sound distorted by the dark, turbulent water that surrounded her. His body heaved up, then crashed down upon her with a tremendous splash. His solid, muscular limbs imprisoned her. An airless vacuum trapped her screams in her throat and constricted her lungs. Her heart felt ready to explode. Panic filled Wisteria. Helpless, she tossed her head from side to side.
Lightning hauled her up from the water. Her head broke the surface and she inhaled a huge, gulping breath. Then he flung her out of the tub. Her right side hit the slatted floor. Pain jarred her elbow and hip. As she rolled, stunned and gasping, onto her back, Lightning straddled her. He shook her so that her head repeatedly bumped the floor.
“Are you sorry you insulted me?” he demanded.
“Yes!” Wisteria screamed, her defiance at last subdued by his brutality. “Please don’t hurt me!”
“Do you love me?”
“I love you!”
“From now on you’ll do as I say?”
“Yes!”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
And he would. Wisteria hadn’t fully appreciated his capacity for violence until now. “Yes. Yes!” she cried.
Climbing off her, Lightning stood. His wet, naked bulk heaved with his breaths. He grinned in cruel triumph.
“Next time I won’t forgive you so easily,” he said, then picked up his clothes and stalked out of the room.
Wisteria lay bruised and aching and shivering. How much she wished she’d never met Lightning! Whatever mistakes he had made, she’d made the most serious one-thinking she could handle him. Tears seeped from her closed eyes. The final stages of her plan required Lightning’s cooperation, but she had serious doubts about her ability to manipulate him anymore. If she couldn’t, what would she do?
She knew now that in spite of her passion for Lightning, they couldn’t live together. She must get away from him before they disagreed again and he made good on his threat.
15
Excuse me, Sosakan-sama, but you have visitors.”
Sano looked up from his desk, past the detectives gathered in his office for the morning meeting at which he issued orders for the day. In the doorway stood the manservant who’d interrupted the meeting.
“Who are they?” Sano asked, surprised because callers rarely arrived so early.
“The Council of Elders.”
“The Council of Elders!” Sano rose in amazement. He dismissed his men, then hurried to the reception room. There he found three of the five officials seated in a row before the alcove. Pallid daylight and cold air seeped through the windows; the charcoal braziers emitted whiffs of heat that dissipated at waist level. Sano knelt and bowed.
“Welcome,” he said. “This is an honor.”
The elders had never called at his house. Whenever they wanted to see him, they summoned him to their chamber at the palace. This visit had a clandestine air, underscored by the absence of Senior Elder Makino.
The man at the center of the row spoke: “I hope we are not inconveniencing you.” This was Ohgami Kaoru, in charge of the regime’s relations with the daimyo. He had white hair and pensive, youthful features.
“Not at all,” Sano said.
“How kind of you to receive us so promptly,” said the elder seated at Ohgami’s right. Uemori Yoichi was short and squat, with baggy jowls. He was the shogun’s chief military adviser.
“It’s my privilege,” Sano said, as he wondered why the council had come, particularly the third man, Kato Kinhide, who was an expert on national finance. Ohgami was Sano’s sometime ally, and Uemori had never overtly opposed him, but Kato was an outright foe. Sano turned to Kato, appraising the broad, bland face with eyes and mouth like slits in worn leather. A suspicion formed in Sano’s mind.
“We’re glad you’re available,” Kato said, “when you must be very busy with the murder investigation.”
Sano saw his suspicion confirmed. Kato would never favor Sano with his presence, unless to talk about the important topic of the moment.
After tea and cakes had been served, pipes lit, and pleasantries exchanged, Ohgami said, “Sosakan-sama, we’ve come to bring you news.”
This surprised Sano, because information customarily flowed from him to the elders, not the other way. He understood why Ohgami might help him, but not the others. And why did they want to talk here instead of at the palace?
Ohgami carefully tapped ashes out of his pipe, forming a line on the smoking tray in front of him. He looked toward Uemori, who said, “You may be aware that Lord Matsudaira Dakuemon was in Yoshiwara the night of the murder.”
Sano nodded, because Lord Dakuemon was on his list of people to interview.
“Dakuemon is a member of a Tokugawa branch clan,” Uemori continued. He sucked greedily on his pipe, and a deep, phlegmy cough shook his loose jowls. “He’s a bit older than Mitsuyoshi was, and not quite as personable nor favored by the court.” Uemori paused, then spoke in a tone laden with significance: “But now that Mitsuyoshi is dead…”
Lord Dakuemon was a strong contender for the position of heir to the regime, Sano thought.
“Perhaps you should pay special attention to Lord Dakuemon’s movements on that night,” Uemori said.
That Uemori had handed him a new suspect alarmed as much as intrigued Sano, since this one was a Tokugawa clan member and therefore off-limits to him because of the shogun’s prohibition against investigating Lord Mitsuyoshi’s family, background, or enemies.
“You might also check into Sugita Fumio,” said Kato. He refilled his pipe, measuring in the tobacco grain by grain.
“The head of the Judicial Council?” Sano said. This was the body that ranked just below the Council of Elders and supervised various government departments. “But Sugita wasn’t in Yoshiwara that night.”
“Perhaps you missed him,” Kato said.
“Why might he be considered a suspect?” Sano hid his dismay at seeing another prominent man implicated in the murder.
