The priest regarded Hirata and Yuriko with his cloudy gaze. A mild frown puckered his face, as though he’d finally noticed the communication between them and wondered what he’d missed. “Have I told you what you wanted to know?” he asked Hirata.

“Yes,” Hirata said. “A thousand thanks.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance,” said the priest.

Hirata bid him farewell, then walked outside and across the temple precinct with Yuriko. Pilgrims strolled and doves swooped around them. The sunlight had dimmed, casting a bronze glow on the tile rooftops; the air had turned colder with the declining afternoon.

“I’m glad to be of assistance, too,” Yuriko said with a saucy smile. “Have I told you what you really wanted to know about Agemaki?”

Reserving judgment, Hirata said, “I’ll have to talk to other people who know her.”

“Let me go with you,” Yuriko said. “I can introduce you to people. Afterward, we can have some fun together.” She took Hirata’s arm. Her eyes shone with her need to attach herself to a man who could rescue her from poverty and degradation.

“Introductions would be appreciated. I’ll pay you for your trouble, but I can’t accept your other kind offer.” Happily married, Hirata had no desire for women other than Midori. “I must get back to town as soon as my work here is finished.” And he was eager to find out what Sano had discovered today, if not to face Sano’s reaction to his escaping his watchdogs.

Yuriko accepted the rebuff with the nonchalance of someone who’d survived many disappointments in life. “Maybe next time.”

As she led him toward the nuns and shrine attendants who still flocked outside Asakusa Jinja Shrine, Hirata reflected that he’d unearthed compromising evidence against both Agemaki and Okitsu. It might justify his misbehavior and please Sano, if not solve the murder case. There remained suspects in Senior Elder Makino’s household who were still unknown quantities to Hirata. He would give much to know what was going on inside that estate now.

18

Reiko carried a tray laden with food and drink down the corridor of Senior Elder Makino’s private chambers. After hours of washing laundry under the housekeeper Yasue’s strict supervision, she was more exhausted than from the most strenuous martial arts practice. Her clothes were damp, grimy, and sweaty. A bump had sprouted on her head where Yasue had hit her again, and her cut finger burned from the lye soap used in the laundry. Never did she want to touch another piece of soiled bedding or underwear! When Yasue had ordered her to serve dinner to the actor and concubine, Reiko had rejoiced at the chance to escape drudgery and spy on them.

She knelt at the open door of Koheiji’s room and staggered across the threshold, awkwardly balancing the tray. The room was bright and warm from glowing lanterns and numerous charcoal braziers. Inside, surrounded by theatrical costumes on wooden stands, Koheiji and Okitsu lolled on floor cushions, laughing together at some joke. They both wore colorful silk dressing gowns. His head lay in her lap. As Reiko set the tray near them, she reflected that she’d learned something today besides that Senior Elder Makino had had bizarre sexual habits and his chief retainer had behaved suspiciously.

There could be no doubt that his concubine and houseguest were lovers.

“Oh, good, our meal is here!” Okitsu said. “I’m starving!”

She ignored Reiko; the lavish spread of sashimi, grilled prawns, sweet cakes, and other delicacies commanded all her attention. Koheiji gave Reiko an appraising glance that she thought he probably gave all women who happened into his view. She saw his eyes register her plain looks and dismiss her as unworthy of his interest. He said to Okitsu, “Feed me.”

Okitsu popped morsels into his mouth and her own. Reiko set the sake decanter on a brazier to warm. She was glad that her disguise worked and Koheiji and Okitsu considered her beneath their notice, but she felt an unexpected sting of wounded pride. Though admired for her beauty and respected for her high social status all her life, she was nothing to these people.

“Isn’t it nice that we can be together without sneaking around?” Okitsu said, feeding a prawn to Koheiji.

He chewed and swallowed. “Yes, it certainly is. Making love in the garden at night was a bit uncomfortable. But the sneaking added excitement.” He leered up at Okitsu and tickled her ribs.

Okitsu giggled. “Naughty boy!” she said, slapping Koheiji. “I was always afraid that Makino would find out what we were up to. If he’d known, he would have been very angry.”

Koheiji snorted. “That’s an understatement. Makino was a jealous old dog. He would have thrown us both out of the house. You’d have had to go back to the brothel. And Makino would have ordered the theaters to ban me from their stages.”

Reiko felt a thrill of excitement. Had Makino indeed found out about Okitsu and Koheiji’s love affair? If so, one of them might have killed him to protect themselves.

“But now we don’t have to worry about old Makino anymore. Everything is wonderful.” Okitsu exuded a sigh of bliss. She fed Koheiji raw tuna and stroked his cheek. “You’re so clever!”

“Yes, I am,” Koheiji said, basking in her admiration.

Did Okitsu mean he’d been clever to rid them of the man who stood between them? Reiko pictured the actor beating Makino to death, then tucking his corpse into bed.

“I adore you,” Okitsu said, gazing raptly at Koheiji.

“I know,” Koheiji said with a conceited smile.

He pointed at the sake decanter and gestured at Reiko. She obediently poured liquor for the couple. They continued ignoring her. She felt as invisible as she’d told Sano she would be. Anticipation eclipsed hurt pride. Might the couple be foolish enough to reveal the truth about the murder while never suspecting that she was a spy?

Okitsu sipped her sake and looked coyly at Koheiji over the rim of her cup. “Koheiji-san…?”

The actor downed his drink and crammed more sashimi into his mouth. “Hmm?”

“Do you remember what you promised me?” Okitsu’s voice took on a teasing, wheedling tone.

“What did I promise?” Koheiji said, his face blank with confusion.

Okitsu playfully swatted his shoulder. “Silly!” she cried. “You know. You promised we would marry someday.”

“Oh. Right,” Koheiji said with a notable lack of enthusiasm. “I guess I did.”

“Well, now that Makino is gone, we can marry.” Okitsu appeared not to notice her lover’s reaction. Eagerness sparkled in her eyes. “Let’s do it tomorrow!”

Here Reiko perceived another possible motive for the murder. Maybe the concubine and actor had wanted Makino dead so that they could wed. But although she seemed besotted with him, Reiko saw that he cared less for her. Intuition told Reiko that this man could have killed Makino to protect his career but not to marry Okitsu.

“We shouldn’t rush into marriage,” Koheiji said. His gaze avoided Okitsu’s. He edged away from her.

Surprise and disappointment showed on Okitsu’s face. “Why not?” she said. “Why should we wait?”

“Because our future is uncertain. We don’t even have a place to live.” Koheiji spoke as if concerned with practical matters, but Reiko thought he was grasping at excuses. “You know we can’t stay here forever.”

“But Makino gave me some money,” Okitsu said. “He gave some to you, too, didn’t he? Between us we should have enough to get a house of our own.”

“Yes…” Koheiji pondered; his hands toyed nervously with dishes on the tray. “But there’s a more serious reason why we should wait at least until the fuss about Makino’s murder blows over. If we marry too soon, everybody will know we were lovers before he died and we were cheating on him. Everybody will believe I killed him.”

“But you didn’t!” Okitsu exclaimed, widening her eyes in horror. “We-”