“No,” Otani admitted. His puffy face was slick with sweat, despite the cold. Clearly he knew that if suspicion should taint the Matsudaira clan, all its associates would be in trouble. “But I think Tamura killed Makino himself, and he’s trying to save his own skin by blaming Makino’s enemies.”
These notions had already occurred to Sano, but he couldn’t swallow them without question any more than he could Tamura’s story.
Hirata, accompanied by Ibe, joined Sano and Otani on the veranda. Hirata wore a chastened attitude; Ibe, a sardonic smile.
“What happened?” Sano asked.
Hirata told how he’d discovered that the torn sleeve had come from a kimono he’d found in the concubine Okitsu’s room. He related the dubious alibi that she and Koheiji had given.
“That’s why Koheiji seemed familiar,” Sano interjected. “I saw him in a play.”
Next, Hirata explained how Okitsu had fainted during his interrogation and Koheiji had absconded. “I’ve got detectives after him,” Hirata said. “An Edo Castle physician is with Okitsu now. She hasn’t revived yet.”
Hirata’s unhappy tone told Sano that he expected to be rebuked for the outcome of his inquiry. Sano did wonder if Hirata could have done better, but Hirata had found the origin of the sleeve and unearthed information that might yet prove valuable. And Sano wouldn’t criticize Hirata in front of their watchdogs.
“The actor and concubine can wait,” Sano told Hirata. “We have a new possible suspect.”
He described how Tamura had implicated Lord Matsudaira’s nephew. Interest cleared the unhappiness from Hirata’s eyes.
Ibe jabbed Hirata with his elbow. “See? Didn’t I tell you?” Ibe said. “The actor and girl may have been up to no good, but neither of them killed Senior Elder Makino. The murderer is exactly where I tried to steer you-in the Matsudaira camp.”
“Don’t listen to him, Sosakan-sama,” Otani said, glaring at Ibe. “He’s just following his master’s orders to attack Lord Matsudaira.”
“Are you afraid your master is headed for a downfall and he’ll take you with him?” Ibe gloated over his rival. “You should be.”
Loud argument, rife with insults and threats, ensued between Otani and Ibe.
“That’s enough from both of you,” Sano said with such authority that the men subsided into glowering quiet.
“Something strange went on in this estate that night, but maybe Senior Elder Makino’s wife, concubine, actor, and chief retainer weren’t the only ones involved,” Hirata said to Sano. “What’s our next step?”
“We’ll have the detectives check Tamura’s story about Daiemon with everyone who was in the estate during the murder. In the meantime…”As much as Sano dreaded the consequences of what he must do, he said, “We’ll have a talk with Lord Matsudaira’s nephew.”
9
Political unrest had transformed the enclave inside Edo Castle where important Tokugawa clan members lived. The once-serene landscaped grounds were crowded with tents pitched to house troops that Lord Matsudaira had brought in from his province. In this camp, hundreds of idle soldiers drank, brawled, and played cards. Makeshift stables sheltered their horses. Smoke from cooking fires blackened the air. As Sano walked through the enclave with Hirata, Otani, and Ibe, he smelled the stench of privies. The soldiers’ restless presence filled Sano with apprehension. War seemed inevitable unless the conflict between Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa was quickly resolved.
At Lord Matsudaira’s estate, guards confiscated the weapons from Sano and his companions and escorted them into the armory. This was a courtyard surrounded by plaster-walled, fireproof storehouses with iron shutters and doors. Lord Matsudaira and a group of his men stood outside a storehouse while porters carried in wooden crates. An attendant pried open one of the crates with a crowbar and lifted out an arquebus. Lord Matsudaira examined the long-barreled gun, then sighted down the barrel. The round black muzzle pointed directly at Sano, who understood that Lord Matsudaira was stocking his arsenal for the civil war. Lord Matsudaira lowered the weapon.
“Ah, Sosakan-sama,” he said with a genial, expectant smile. “Have you come to bring me news about your investigation?”
Sano bowed. “Yes, Lord Matsudaira,” he said, uncomfortably aware that his news was bound to displease.
Then Lord Matsudaira noticed Ibe. Anger darkened his expression. “Why is he here? How dare you bring in a member of my enemy’s faction?”
“I’m honoring the agreement that requires my investigation to be observed by agents of both you and Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” Sano said.
Comprehension and rancor dawned on Lord Matsudaira’s face. “And your investigation has brought you here. Have you cast your lot with Chamberlain Yanagisawa? Did he send you to pin Senior Elder Makino’s murder on me?”
“No,” said Sano. “I serve only the shogun. I’m sorry to say that I’m here because I’ve found evidence that implicates a member of your clan in the murder.”
“Which member?” Lord Matsudaira demanded suspiciously. “What evidence?”
“Your nephew Daiemon,” Sano said. “He visited Senior Elder Makino in his estate the night of the murder.”
The guards at the estate had confirmed that Daiemon had visited Makino, and they’d seemed to be telling the truth. They’d also said they’d heard the two men arguing. Although Lord Matsudaira’s expression turned stony and impenetrable, Sano sensed his dismay that his nephew had become a murder suspect. Ibe watched Lord Matsudaira with an unpleasant smile that said he enjoyed watching his master’s rival in jeopardy.
“I smell Chamberlain Yanagisawa in this,” said Lord Matsudaira. “All of Senior Elder Makino’s men are his lackeys. He put them up to incriminating my nephew.”
“Perhaps,” Sano said. He did wonder if Tamura had acted on his own when telling the story, or on orders from Yanagisawa. “But I’m duty bound to investigate every possible clue. Therefore, I must ask to speak with Daiemon.”
“Certainly not.” Lord Matsudaira’s tone was defensive as well as adamant. “Daiemon didn’t kill Senior Elder Makino. I won’t have you treat him like a criminal.”
“If Daiemon is innocent, it would benefit him to tell his side of the story,” Sano said.
Lord Matsudaira dismissed this idea with a savage cutting motion of his hand. “There’s one side to the story: My enemies are attacking me through Daiemon. You’ll not interrogate him.”
“For you to forbid me to question him will only make me think you both have something to hide.” Sano knew his words verged on an accusation. He read danger in the look that Lord Matsudaira gave him.
“I don’t care what you think.” Lord Matsudaira’s steely voice emerged from between lips compressed with rage. “I won’t let you persecute my clan.”
“Very well,” Sano said. “Then I must tell the shogun that your nephew was at the scene of the crime and you’re shielding him from my investigation. His Excellency can draw his own conclusions about Daiemon.”
Lord Matsudaira glared in outrage and alarm at Sano. They both knew the shogun rarely drew his own conclusions. In this case, Chamberlain Yanagisawa would hasten to draw them for him. Yanagisawa would do his best to convince the shogun that Daiemon’s presence at the crime scene, and his uncle’s unwillingness to bring him forth, proved he was guilty.
“You won’t tell the shogun about my nephew,” Lord Matsudaira said. His tone threatened bloody retaliation unless Sano cooperated.
“If he doesn’t, I will,” Ibe said.
Lord Matsudaira gave him a contemptuous look, and Sano and Hirata a regretful one. He signaled his attendants. “Persuade them that it’s in their best interest to honor my wishes.”
The attendants drew their swords on Sano, Hirata, and Ibe. Sano realized that the fight for power had already corrupted Lord Matsudaira. The fair, humane, honorable man he had once been would never have resorted to violence to bend others to his will. As Lord Matsudaira’s men advanced, Sano, Hirata, and Ibe backed away. They instinctively reached for their swords, which the guards had confiscated.
