“Well done,” Sano said. A glimmer of hope at a potential source of new clues brightened his spirits. “And a wise decision.” The fact that Hirata had chosen to consult him instead of rushing ahead on his own meant that Hirata was learning self-discipline. “I want a look inside that house, but the question is how.”
He and Hirata looked across the connecting rooms at the men watching Masahiro eat. Otani and Ibe would never allow Sano to investigate a clue concerning Daiemon that might lead to Lord Matsudaira or Chamberlain Yanagisawa. And if Sano left his house without them, his men would tell them.
Just then, Sano heard footsteps pelting down the corridor, accompanied by rapid, labored breaths. Reiko burst into the office. Her eyes were wild, her hair and clothes in disarray.
“Reiko-san!” exclaimed Sano. He was so glad to see his wife that at first he barely noticed her condition. “Thank the gods!”
He leaped up and enfolded her in his arms. She was cold, wet, and shivering. A closer look at her told Sano why his detectives hadn’t been able to find her at Makino’s estate: She’d disguised herself so well that they’d not recognized her. Now concern for her encroached upon Sano’s joy. “What happened to you?” he said.
Reiko was so winded after her mad dash through the official quarter that she couldn’t speak. As she struggled to catch her breath, she clung to Sano, overjoyed to be with him again, relieved to be home. Then she heard Masahiro call, “Mama!” and saw the little boy run toward her through the adjoining rooms. With a cry of delight, she pulled away from Sano and rushed to meet their son. The sight of two strange samurai in the nursery halted her. Masahiro collided against Reiko and threw his arms around her knees. Embracing him, she turned to Sano and Hirata in puzzlement.
“Who are those men?” she said. “What are they doing here?”
“I’ll explain,” Sano said, but first he gently detached Masahiro from her. “Go and get ready for bed, Masahiro. Mama will come to you soon.”
The boy toddled off with his nursemaids. The two strangers followed them. Sano seated Reiko by the charcoal brazier in his office and wrapped a warm quilt around her. Hirata poured her a bowl of tea. As she sipped the hot, invigorating liquid and warmed her icy hands on the bowl, Sano told her what had happened since she’d left home. Reiko listened in shock.
“But what happened to you?” Sano repeated with anxious concern.
“I had to leave Senior Elder Makino’s estate because his people figured out that I was a spy,” Reiko said.
She described how Yasue had caught her eavesdropping. But she didn’t say that Koheiji had tried to ravish her, Tamura had meant to kill her, or she’d fought her way out of the estate. Nor did she mention that she’d barely reached her own gate before Tamura’s troops came rushing up the street after her. If Sano knew, he would never let her spy again. Not that Reiko was eager to repeat the experiment, but she might need to in the future.
“Did the suspects find out who you are, or that you were working for me?” Sano said.
“No,” Reiko said. “And I managed to observe some interesting things before I left.”
While Sano and Hirata listened avidly, Reiko told them about finding Makino’s trove of sexual paraphernalia and seeing Tamura replace the jade phallus that she thought was the murder weapon. She described the conversations she’d witnessed.
“It could be that Tamura was hiding evidence that implicated him in Makino’s murder,” Sano said. “And the affair between Koheiji and Okitsu is the strongest reason we’ve found for them to want Makino dead.”
“That Agemaki is jealous of Okitsu and was afraid that Makino would throw her out and marry his concubine gave her a reason, too,” Hirata told Reiko. “What you heard contradicts the image she presented to us.”
“And there surely is a conspiracy of silence involving Koheiji, Okitsu, and Agemaki,” Sano said.
“It’s looking more and more as if the killer was someone in Makino’s household,” Hirata said. “Maybe they were all in the murder together.”
“I don’t think so. There’s so much bad feeling among them that I can’t imagine them cooperating in anything. Maybe some of them together, but not all.”
“We might have suspected all this but not had any verification, except for you,” Sano said to Reiko.
His warm, praiseful look rewarded Reiko for the hardships she’d suffered. She said eagerly, “Does my information help you identify the killer?”
Sano and Hirata pondered, then told Reiko what their investigations had uncovered while she’d been away. She realized with a sinking heart that although each of them had found pieces of the puzzle, the picture didn’t add up to a solution to the crime. They had an abundance of suspects, motives, and theories, but no culprit.
“I wish I could have spied longer,” Reiko said.
“You might have spied forever and not proved that someone from Makino’s household is guilty,” Sano said in an attempt to console her. “Remember that Lord Matsudaira, Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and their factions are still suspects. We haven’t ruled them out of either murder.”
“If Ibe and Otani have their way, we won’t be able to rule them in, even if they are responsible,” Hirata said glumly.
“What shall we do?” Reiko asked, thinking how hopeless the situation appeared.
Sano told her about Hirata’s discovery. “That Daiemon had quarters outside the Matsudaira estate suggests he had a private life that may be related to his death.”
“But you can’t investigate Daiemon’s business with Otani and Ibe shadowing you,” Hirata reminded Sano. “Do you want me to search the house by myself?”
After a long moment’s thought, Sano said, “I have an idea.”
He confided his plan. Reiko and Hirata nodded in approval, yet Reiko despaired because she couldn’t do more to help. Then sudden inspiration elated her.
“Even if Otani and Ibe forbid you to look for Daiemon’s missing woman, I can look,” she said. “They won’t even notice me.”
Sano regarded her with consternation. Reiko knew he was wondering what more had happened to her at Makino’s estate than she’d told him, and he was hesitant to further involve her in the case. “What do you propose doing?” he said.
“I’ll ask around and see if any of my friends can tell me who was Daiemon’s mistress,” Reiko said. “Women talk. The romantic affairs of an important man like him are hard to keep secret. Someone is bound to know.”
“All right,” Sano said. “That sounds harmless enough for you. But be careful this time.”
28
Sano found Otani, Ibe, and their troops waiting for him outside his gate the next morning. The rain had stopped, but moisture still darkened the walls and buildings of the official quarter. The sky showed pale blue streaks between bands of cloud, but the air still had a frosty tang. Overnight, the portals of the estates had sprouted banners bearing the Matsudaira or the Yanagisawa crest. The banners snapped in the wind. Only Sano’s gate was unadorned. Up through the passages of Edo Castle reverberated the pounding of hooves and footsteps as troops marched off to battle.
“What’s he doing here?” Otani said, frowning as he spotted Hirata among the detectives who accompanied Sano.
“He’s helping me with my inquiries today,” Sano said.
“No, he’s not,” Ibe said. “We banned him from the investigation.”
“If you want any more cooperation from me, you’ll let him come along,” Sano told the watchdogs.
He thought Hirata had earned his reinstatement in the investigation. As Ibe and Otani began to protest, Sano said, “My son is your guarantee of Hirata-san’s good behavior as well as mine.”
“I don’t care. I want him gone,” Otani said, angry that Sano would defy him.