culpability. “The guards grabbed him before I had to fight him. It was his own fault that he died.” Drawing a weapon in the palace was a crime punishable by death, and Mataemon-son of the daimyo Lord Kii-had been forced to commit ritual suicide. “But I suppose his clan might blame me.”
Sano felt a spring of jubilation, for the Kii clan represented an even more promising lead than did the merchant. A stunned air came over Hoshina: He’d finally absorbed the fact that his enemies were responsible for the kidnapping and his troubles. During the whole conversation he’d stayed crouched in the same position, but now he sat flat on the floor, his legs extended. He gazed into the distance, like a man marooned on an island, watching a ship sail across the ocean to rescue him.
“I’ll interrogate the Kii clan and the merchant Naraya,” said Sano.
“Do it and rescue Lady Keisho-in before I go mad in here.” Hoshina jumped to his feet and prowled the room, as if the hope of deliverance had unloosed a restless energy. He stalked to a window, grasped the bars, and stared outside. “I wish there were something I could do to save myself.” A tortured cry burst from him: “I can’t bear this idleness!”
Then his posture slumped, and Sano understood that affairs of the heart weighed as heavily upon Hoshina as did the threat of death. Sano felt compelled to offer solace, despite every bad deed Hoshina had done him.
“Chamberlain Yanagisawa didn’t abandon you,” Sano said.
Hoshina spat a gust of disbelief. “You don’t see him breaking down the door to comfort or rescue me, do you? No-he’s lost all concern for me.”
“He told me to report to him after I talked to you,” Sano said.
“He just wants to know what I told you that might help him find the shogun’s mother.” Contempt withered Hoshina’s voice but didn’t hide his grief. “He can’t sully himself by associating with me, so he lets you do his dirty work. You’d better watch out that he doesn’t steal the credit for everything you accomplish.”
“He set us up for you to call in that favor and me to save your life,” Sano said.
Hoshina turned, still holding the window bars. He regarded Sano as if he’d lost his mind, then gave a glum chuckle. “No. That’s too devious even for the honorable chamberlain.” Hoshina resumed gazing outside, his head and clenched hands black against the sunlight that streamed around him. “He cut me loose the moment he read the ransom letter.”
Sano realized that in some ways he knew Yanagisawa better than Hoshina did. He also realized that trying to convince Hoshina that Yanagisawa hadn’t forsaken him was a waste of time.
“I’ll be going now,” Sano said, then called the guards to unbar the door. “If Naraya or the Kii clan is involved in the kidnapping, I’ll soon find out.”
Before leaving the castle, Sano stopped at Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s estate. The antechamber was crowded with officials who sat smoking and chatting while they waited to see the chamberlain. But a clerk hurried Sano past the other men and into the reception hall. There, Yanagisawa knelt on the dais. Secretaries held a scroll open on a writing desk before him. Three black-robed officials, seated below the dais, watched him ink his jade seal and stamp the document. When Yanagisawa saw Sano standing at the threshold, he dismissed the secretaries and officials. He gestured for Sano to kneel near him.
“Did you learn anything useful from the honorable police commissioner?” Yanagisawa said.
Sano noticed that Yanagisawa didn’t ask how Hoshina was. The chamberlain’s businesslike manner indicated that he cared only whether Hoshina had provided clues to the kidnapper’s identity. Perhaps Yanagisawa didn’t want to display personal concern for Hoshina when someone might overhear, but Sano wondered if Yanagisawa had indeed abandoned Hoshina. Certainly, the way he referred to Hoshina by title instead of name indicated that he considered their relationship a thing of the past. Sano thought he must have misjudged Yanagisawa.
“Here’s a list of all the deaths associated with Hoshina.” Sano handed the paper to the chamberlain. “We identified two primary suspects.” He named Naraya and the Kii clan, then described the deaths that had involved them and Hoshina. As he spoke, Yanagisawa listened intently but without comment. “I’m on my way to see them. Chances are that Naraya or someone in the Kii clan is… ” Sano recalled the mysterious poem. “The Dragon King.”
A faint smile touched Yanagisawa’s lips. “What an apt name for the kidnapper.” He paused, chin in hand, mulling over the list. Then he appeared to reach a decision. “You interrogate the merchant,” he said. “Leave the Kii clan to me. We’ll meet tonight, at the hour of the boar, to compare results.”
Sano wondered if Yanagisawa did, after all, want to save Hoshina and mend their broken affair; but of course, his primary aim was to catch the kidnapper. Yanagisawa wanted credit for rescuing Lady Keisho-in, as Hoshina had suggested; and Sano recalled instances where his longtime adversary had appropriated facts he’d discovered. Though Sano cared less about who got credit than about saving the women, he worried that Yanagisawa might somehow jeopardize the investigation. Yet Sano had no control over Yanagisawa.
“As you wish,” Sano said. He bowed, rose, and left the room, anxious to solve the mystery himself and rescue the hostages before Yanagisawa did something to endanger Reiko.
16
You shouldn’t have tried to escape,” Lady Keisho-in said, fixing a malevolent gaze on Reiko. “You were stupid to put us all in danger for nothing.”
Thunder boomed, and the tower shuddered. Lightning illuminated the prison in intermittent flashes, while rain cascaded down through the damaged ceiling. The women sat crowded together in the driest corner of the room. Reiko humbly bowed her head, deploring her own failure even more than Keisho-in did.
“But she couldn’t have known we were trapped on an island,” Midori said. When the guards had brought Reiko back to the prison, and she’d told the other women what had happened, Midori had wept with disappointment; but now she rose to Reiko’s defense. “It’s not her fault that our plan didn’t work.” Midori smiled wanly at Reiko. “I’m grateful to you for trying to save us.”
“Thank you,” Reiko said, appreciating Midori’s loyalty.
“Don’t make excuses for her,” Keisho-in rebuked Midori. “If she hadn’t misbehaved, those men might treat us better. They might at least feed us, or clean this room.” The kidnappers had brought no food since the pail of soup that Reiko had thrown at the boy, and the women were all starving because they’d not eaten since yesterday’s meal. The stink from waste buckets grew worse by the hour.
“And what good are you, Midori-san? You just sit around like a quail ready to lay an egg. I don’t know why I ever wanted you on my trip.”
Chastened, Midori said, “I’m sorry.”
Keisho-in turned her ire on Lady Yanagisawa: “And you’re even more useless.” Fury sparked in her bloodshot old eyes. “When those men came, why didn’t you fight them the way you were supposed to?”
Lady Yanagisawa sat hunched in shame, her plain face bleak with misery. Reiko had just learned that the guards had come to the prison soon after she’d run away. They’d found their comrades tied up and unconscious, and herself missing. They’d taken the sword from Lady Yanagisawa, who’d meekly surrendered, and assailed the women with curses, threats, and demands to know where Reiko had gone.
“… I was afraid,” Lady Yanagisawa whispered, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry.” She turned a beseeching gaze on Reiko. “Will you please forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” Reiko patted her shoulder. “You did right to surrender. Fighting would have done more harm than good.” Though dismayed by Lady Yanagisawa’s cowardice, Reiko was glad the kidnappers hadn’t hurt her friends.
“Next time I go on holiday, I won’t take any of you,” Keisho-in declared. “I’ll take strong, brave men who can get me out of trouble instead of into it!”
Reiko, Midori, and Lady Yanagisawa sat silent, avoiding one another’s gazes and forbearing to mention that none of them had wanted to accompany Keisho-in and would have stayed home if they could. None of them dared remind her that the kidnappers had slain her strong, brave bodyguards, or that there might not be a next time. Nor did they point out that she had eagerly approved Reiko’s plan until it failed, and venting her frustration on them didn’t improve their plight.
