“That’s true.” Although she understood the need for objectivity, Reiko was disappointed by Sano’s skepticism. “What did you learn today?”
“I just came from Nijō Castle,” Sano said. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa raided Lord Ibe’s house, but the outlaws and weapons were gone. He’s leading a search for them. Unfortunately, he’s located Yoriki Hoshina, as Marume and Fukida have just informed me. I’ve had Hoshina transferred to a new hiding place, but it may be just a matter of time before Yanagisawa finds him again. Earlier, I questioned Right Minister Ichijo, Emperor Tomohito, and Prince Momozono.” Sano described the interviews, then said, “Either Ichijo or the emperor could have the power of kiai; either or both could be involved in the imperial restoration plot. They both have alibis that don’t convince me, but would be hard to disprove.”
“What about Lady Jokyōden?” Reiko said.
Sano’s gaze strayed to the scrolls that lay in stacks around him. “I haven’t had a chance to see her yet.”
“Why not?” Reiko was surprised because he’d been gone long enough, and she thought he would have called on all the suspects while at the palace. She was also anxious to know whether Jokyōden could have committed the second murder. A solid alibi would clear Jokyōden of suspicion and ease Reiko’s fear that she’d made a mistake by trusting the woman.
“I went to see Kozeri.” Now Sano resumed sorting through papers with intent concentration.
“Again? Why?”
“I wanted to know about Konoe’s last visit to her.” Without looking up from his work, Sano said, “She saw Konoe shortly before his death. He told her he was on the verge of a great accomplishment. This suggests that he’d discovered the conspiracy and planned to report it to the bakufu, with the expectation of getting a big reward.”
His reason for taking the time to see the nun seemed flimsy to Reiko, and the diversion uncharacteristic of Sano. “Yes, that does indicate that Konoe knew about the plot,” she said, “but Kozeri’s not really a suspect, is she? There were no outsiders in the palace during Konoe’s murder, and when Chamberlain Yanagisawa set you up to be murdered, he didn’t notify Kozeri of the opportunity to kill you.”
“Kozeri’s story substantiates my theory about the killer’s motive, which is critical to solving the case. She’s an important witness, so I went to see her. I’ll talk to Lady Jokyōden tomorrow.” Irritation tightened Sano’s voice. “Why can’t you respect my judgment?”
He’d been short-tempered the night before last, and for as little apparent reason as now, Reiko remembered. “Are you angry at me because I went around asking about the coins?” she said.
“I’m not angry,” Sano snapped.
“Then what’s wrong?” Now Reiko realized that he’d behaved this way after seeing Kozeri the first time. “Did Kozeri say or do something to upset you?”
“Of course not,” Sano said in a defensive, unconvincing tone. “I already told you what happened. If I’m upset, it’s because you question everything I do.”
A sharp prick of suspicion disturbed Reiko. But no, she had absolute confidence in Sano’s fidelity. Although other husbands took lovers and mistresses, he’d never given her reason to think him interested in another woman.
Shamed by her suspicion, Reiko said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Sano nodded, dismissing her apology. He compared the note she’d found in the charcoal brazier beside a letter from Konoe’s personal files. “The calligraphy matches. Konoe did write the note about the activities at Lord Ibe’s house. And here’s something else.” He read from a document: ‘I, Nakane the Weaver, agree to sell my house in Nishijin to the Honorable Left Minister Konoe Bokuden.’ There’s a map showing the location of the house that Lady Jokyōden took you to. So Konoe did own the house.” Sano gave Reiko a brief, forced smile before returning his attention to the papers. “Maybe Jokyōden isn’t the killer and we can trust her.”
“Maybe,” Reiko said, uncomfortably aware that she hadn’t told him about Jokyōden’s affair with Konoe. She’d promised her discretion, and she must honor her promise unless the affair became vital evidence in the case, which it so far hadn’t. She was afraid that Sano was keeping secrets from her, too.
They spent the rest of the evening in stilted, minimal conversation, and when they went to bed, they lay awake for a long time, facing away from each other.
26
I hope you don’t mind if I work while we talk,” Lady Jokyōden said to Sano. “No matter what misfortunes befall us, we must still observe the rites of Obon.”
“Please, go right ahead,” Sano said.
It was morning, and they were in the Buddhist chapel of Jokyōden’s residence. The rain doors were raised; the wind wafted a bitter tang of smoke into the room. On a platform in a recessed niche sat a gilded Buddha statue surrounded by gold lotus flowers. Many narrow alcoves each held a table containing a vase for flowers, an incense burner, and a butsudan-memorial shrine-in the form of a small cabinet. From the ceiling hung trappings of the Festival of the Dead: plaited white paper strips, toys once owned by deceased children, and a mask of Otafuku, a deity of fortune.
Lady Jokyōden knelt on the tatami floor amid supplies for her Obon preparations and untied the cord around a stack of straw mats. Sano, standing nearby, noted that Jokyōden seemed unperturbed by his unannounced arrival. She’d politely acquiesced to an interview and didn’t seem to mind being alone with him, but she waited for him to speak first.
“Where were you during the murder three nights ago?” Sano asked.
Serenely indifferent, Jokyōden began setting mats under the butsudan. There was no hint of mystical power about her, and Sano thought it unlikely that rigorous martial arts training would have been wasted on a woman. While still on his guard, he felt less apprehension than while interviewing Right Minister Ichijo and Emperor Tomohito.
“I can’t remember,” Jokyōden said.
Perplexed, Sano said, “Surely you have some idea.”
“I am afraid I do not.”
“The murder happened just before midnight,” Sano said. “What were you doing then?”
Busy with her task, Jokyōden gave him a demure glance from beneath lowered eyelids. “I really don’t know.”
Sano was more inclined to believe that she preferred not to say. She certainly wasn’t the fool that she sounded. Whether innocent or guilty, why didn’t she just present a plausible lie instead of such a ridiculous claim?
“Did you go near the kitchens?” Sano asked.
“Perhaps… perhaps not.”
And why not just place herself elsewhere, away from the murder scene? “Did you see or talk to anybody?” Sano persisted. “Is there anybody who might have seen you?”
“I don’t recall whether I saw or spoke with anyone.” Having finished with the mats, Jokyōden filled the alcove vases with water from a spouted jar. Her movements were precise; she didn’t spill a drop. “You will have to ask the other palace residents whether they saw me.”
Nettled by her impervious calm, Sano said, “You can’t really expect me to believe that you’ve forgotten everything about that night.”
She turned to him with a bland smile. “I expect nothing. But I beg you to excuse this humble woman for her poor memory.”
During past investigations, Sano had met suspects who’d obstructed him by pretending ignorance, but none had carried it off as smoothly as Lady Jokyōden. What a maddening woman! Still, he admired her nerve.
Then Jokyōden said, “In my opinion, the world is a better place with one less despicable Tokugawa samurai. Your treatment of the emperor was a disgrace.” Frowning, Jokyōden arranged fresh lotus flowers. “You dishonored the entire Imperial Court. It was an insult that begged revenge.”
Sano stared at Jokyōden in amazement. After refusing to tell her whereabouts at the time of the murder, she’d just handed him her motive for wanting him dead! What was she up to?