A cautious note in his voice set off a warning signal in Reiko’s head. Unhappy comprehension deflated her excitement. “Discussion and ideas-is that all you’re going to allow me to contribute to the investigation?”
“Please don’t get upset,” Sano said, laying down his chopsticks as his troubled gaze met her appalled one. “Let me explain.”
The disappointment was more than Reiko could bear. “But I should help search for clues and interview the suspects and witnesses. To develop any useful ideas about the murder, I need to see the people and places involved.” Tradition forbade a wife to argue with her husband, but Reiko and Sano had a marriage that strained the bounds of convention. “Have I come all this way to sit idle while you toil alone?”
“I brought you here to protect you,” Sano reminded her.
“From Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who is far away in Edo.”
“From grave peril,” Sano said. “And this investigation has great potential for that.”
Yet Reiko preferred peril to boredom. “I’ve worked on murder cases before. This one is no different. I’m not afraid.”
“You should be,” Sano said somberly, “because this case is indeed different. The power of kiai makes this killer more dangerous than an ordinary criminal.”
“The killer is no more dangerous to me than to you,” Reiko said. Exasperation rose in her. With an eleven-year age difference between them, Sano often seemed like an overprotective father. “Your greater size and strength are no defense against a spirit cry.”
“My many years of martial arts training are,” Sano said. “I’ve practiced rituals for strengthening the will. A strong will is the foundation for the power of kiai, and the only weapon against it.”
Reiko lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “Do you think that just because I haven’t lived long enough to study as much as you have, it means my will is weak?”
“Not at all,” Sano said with a wry smile.
“Rituals you’ve never had a chance to test won’t guarantee your safety if the killer attacks you,” Reiko retorted. “Nor will your sex or rank. The killer’s victim was male, and the highest official in the Imperial Court.”
Sano picked up his soup bowl, then set it down. “There are also practical reasons I can’t include you in the investigation. You couldn’t go to the crime scene with me today. I can’t take you along on my inquiries tomorrow. For a samurai’s wife to follow him around, involving herself in official business-you know it just isn’t done.” His regretful expression told Reiko that he sympathized with her position, even as he defended his own. “I’m sorry.”
“There must be something I can do,” Reiko persisted. “Are there any witnesses to interview?”
“Not yet.”
“What about suspects?”
“That ledger I brought contains Yoriki Hoshina’s report on the investigation he did before we got here. He’s cleared most of the palace residents of suspicion by confirming their alibis. But there are some people whose whereabouts at the time of the murder remain unknown. One is Emperor Tomohito, and another his cousin Prince Momozono.” Sano explained that they’d discovered the body, then said, “I can’t subject them to questioning by a woman. It would be a gross impropriety.”
Reiko nodded, sadly conceding Sano’s point. She saw the murder case moving farther and farther beyond her grasp. Nevertheless, something that he’d said gave her hope.
“If the emperor is one suspect and the prince is another,” Reiko said, “then it sounds as though there are additional suspects. Who are they?”
“The emperor’s mother, Lady Jokyōden, and his consort, Lady Asagao.”
From the chagrin on his face, Reiko could tell that Sano hadn’t wanted to tell her. “It wouldn’t violate any customs for the wife of the shogun’s representative to call on the women of the Imperial Court,” she said, so delighted by this turn of events that she forgave Sano’s attempt to conceal information. “I’ll go tomorrow.”
“Even though it’s socially acceptable for you to visit Lady Jokyōden and Lady Asagao, there’s still the threat of danger,” Sano said. “I don’t know of any historical incidences of a woman having the power of kiai, and it seems likely that the murderer is a man, but we can’t yet rule out the possibility that the emperor’s mother or consort killed Left Minister Konoe. For you to go prying into their business is too big a risk.”
“The Imperial Court doesn’t know that I help you with investigations,” Reiko said. “When I visit the women, they’ll think it’s just a social courtesy.”
“If they guess your real purpose, the consequences could be fatal,” Sano said.
The room’s cozy atmosphere chilled and darkened with the memory of a recent time when a killer had seen through Reiko’s false pretenses while investigating the murder of the shogun’s favorite concubine. Stifling a shiver, Reiko involuntarily placed a hand on her abdomen, where a new, fragile life might have just begun. She read in Sano’s eyes his resolve to prevent another disaster.
“I’ve learned a lot since then,” she said. “I won’t let the emperor’s mother and consort guess that I know they’re suspects. Besides, women speak more frankly to one another than to men. Court ladies are probably unaccustomed to meeting samurai officials. I have a better chance of getting the information you need.”
Sano nodded in reluctant agreement, then frowned, placing his chopsticks together across the center of his rice bowl and contemplating the equally divided contents.
Reiko sensed in him the struggle between love and duty, between caution and the need to employ every possible method to solve the case. Taking Sano’s strong, hard hands in her small, slender ones, she said, “When we married, our lives and our honor were joined forever. I want to deliver the killer to justice as much as you do. For good or bad, I share your fate. Shouldn’t I do everything in my power to bring us success?”
They shared a long look. Then Sano clasped Reiko’s hands, expelled a breath, and nodded, his misgivings obvious. But triumph filled Reiko. She had enough faith in their partnership for both of them.
At Nijō Castle, a servant entered the White Parlor, bowed, and said to Chamberlain Yanagisawa, “Your visitor has arrived.”
“Good. I’ll receive him in the Grand Audience Hall.” Yanagisawa turned to Aisu. "I’ll handle this alone.”
Disapproval flickered in Aisu’s eyes. “But how can you be sure he’s trustworthy?” Yanagisawa had been communicating with his chief Miyako agent via written messages; they’d never actually met. But now, with operations under way, face-to-face contact was necessary. “You need protection.”
Aisu hated being excluded from important business, Yanagisawa knew; he feared that someone else would steal his master’s favor. However, as a general precaution, Yanagisawa never shared all the details of a scheme with anyone, lest too much knowledge give other men power over him. Thus, he didn’t want Aisu at this secret meeting between himself and the man through whom he would achieve his purpose.
“No one would dare attack me here,” Yanagisawa said. “You’re dismissed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, master.” Aisu bowed resentfully.
In the Grand Audience Hall, a mural of gnarled pine trees on a gilt background decorated the wall behind the dais. Carved peacocks graced transoms; on the coffered ceiling, painted flowers glittered in the flames of many lanterns. Doors with ornate tassels marked rooms where guards stood watch. Exterior sliding walls were open to a garden landscaped entirely without trees, so that falling leaves could not evoke thoughts about the transience of life or political power. Indian lilac sent a smoky perfume into the castle.
Chamberlain Yanagisawa sat upon the dais. An attendant opened the door at the distant opposite end of the room and announced, “The Honorable Hoshina Sogoru, senior police commander of Miyako.”