The Perfumed Sleeve (11 page)

“You’ve done a brilliant job attaching yourself to our lord,” Yanagisawa said.

Yoritomo blushed with pleasure at the compliment. Yanagisawa recalled visits he’d made to the isolated country villa where he’d kept the boy and his mother. Yoritomo wasn’t the only child that Yanagisawa maintained in this fashion—he had five sons, all by different women, living in separate households. He regularly visited them all, establishing himself as a figure of authority and watching them for signs of usefulness. But Yoritomo was not only the one most likely to attract the shogun; he was, from his infancy, the one most attached to his father.

Whenever Yanagisawa had come to call, the little boy had toddled to Yanagisawa and flung out his arms. Later, Yoritomo had recited his school lessons and demonstrated his martial arts skills for his father. He’d always excelled at both, but afterward he stood tense with fear, awaiting Yanagisawa’s judgment. If Yanagisawa criticized his performance, he fought tears; if Yanagisawa praised him, he shone as though blessed by a god. His eagerness to please Yanagisawa continued to this very day. It moved Yanagisawa, as well as confirmed Yoritomo as his best chance of placing a son at the head of the next regime and ruling Japan through him.

Now Yoritomo said humbly, “I’m grateful for your praise, Honorable Father, but I don’t deserve it. Your teaching is responsible for any success I’ve had with the shogun.”

Several years ago, Yanagisawa had hired one of Edo’s best male prostitutes to instruct Yoritomo in the art of manly love. Although Yoritomo had no inherent taste for it, he’d dutifully cooperated and learned the techniques the shogun most enjoyed. When Yanagisawa had introduced Yoritomo to the shogun last year and secretly watched them together in the bedchamber, Yoritomo had performed with an expertise that ravished the shogun.

“We mustn’t keep His Excellency waiting,” Yanagisawa said now. “You’d better hurry to him.”

“Yes, Honorable Father.” Yoritomo obediently rose.

But Yanagisawa perceived a hint of reluctance in Yoritomo’s manner. He felt the qualm that had struck a repeated, dissonant chord in him since he’d first pandered his own son to his lord. He knew from experience that the shogun’s weak, aging body afforded little pleasure even to a partner who enjoyed manly love. Sex with the shogun could give only disgust to Yoritomo. Recalling too well that his own father had used him in similar fashion with the aim of advancing the family fortunes, Yanagisawa felt guilt, shame, and pity toward his son.

He hastened to intercept Yoritomo at the door, then put his hands on his son’s shoulders and looked into the clear, guileless eyes that gazed back at him.

“You do understand why it’s necessary that you please the shogun?” Yanagisawa asked.

“Yes, Honorable Father,” Yoritomo said. “I must supplant Lord Matsudaira’s nephew as the heir apparent. When the shogun dies, I must succeed him as dictator of the next regime.”

Yanagisawa had drilled this lesson into Yoritomo during the five years since he’d chosen the boy as the best candidate to fulfill his political ambitions. “And why must you?” Yanagisawa said, anxious to make sure Yoritomo remembered the whole lesson.

“So that I can rule Japan with your help, Honorable Father,” Yoritomo said dutifully. “So that together we will command supreme power over everyone else.”

“What will happen if the shogun dies and you don’t succeed him?” Yanagisawa said.

“We’ll lose His Excellency’s protection and your control over the
bakufu
,” Yoritomo said. “We’ll be vulnerable to our enemies. For me to become the next dictator is the only way to ensure that we survive a change in regime.”

Conviction rang in his voice. He stood tall with his determination to achieve the goal Yanagisawa had set. Yanagisawa told himself that survival justified schooling Yoritomo to be a whore. Lord Matsudaira would have done the same with Daiemon, except Daiemon willingly prostituted himself. Daiemon, a rake experienced with both men and women, had no need of lessons on how to pleasure the shogun. Still, Yanagisawa’s guilt toward Yoritomo persisted.

“Do you understand that what we’re doing pains me as much as you?” he said urgently. “Do you understand that if there were any other way, I wouldn’t ask so much of you?”

“Yes, Honorable Father, I understand,” Yoritomo said with perfect, ardent sincerity. “I’ll gladly do whatever you ask, because you know what’s best for us both.”

“I thank you, Son. I hope that someday you’ll thank me.” Humbled by Yoritomo’s attitude, overcome by love, Yanagisawa squeezed his shoulders, then released him.

Yoritomo spread his arms, as if to embrace his father. Yanagisawa had a sudden memory of a little boy running to greet him. Then Yoritomo apparently recalled that he was no longer a child. He dropped his arms, bowed, and exited the room. Anguish and doubts plagued Yanagisawa. If he should be implicated in Senior Elder Makino’s murder, and if he should lose the battle against Lord Matsudaira, then his sole hope for the future rested upon Yoritomo.

Lady Yanagisawa and Kikuko peered in through the door of the chamberlain’s office. Inside, he’d seated himself at his desk. His hand plied a writing brush, inking a page with his elegant script. Lady Yanagisawa’s heart beat fast with the excitement she always felt when near him.

Without looking up, the chamberlain said to her, “Don’t just stand out there, come in.”

Lady Yanagisawa crept into the room. Its air was charged with the erotic energy that her husband radiated. He glanced up and saw Kikuko trailing her. His face darkened.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to see her?” he said.

Lady Yanagisawa knew he didn’t like to be reminded that he’d sired an idiot, even though he blamed his wife for Kikuko’s defects. But Lady Yanagisawa hoped he’d come to appreciate how pretty and sweet Kikuko was. His treatment of their daughter caused Lady Yanagisawa terrible anguish, but not even this could diminish her love or need for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said humbly, and turned to Kikuko. “Go to your room, dearest.”

Kikuko, normally docile and obedient, clutched Lady Yanagisawa’s sleeve. Her sunny expression turned plaintive. “Me stay with you.”

Lady Yanagisawa realized that her daughter was jealous of her new relationship with the chamberlain. Kikuko had grown tired of being shunted aside in favor of a man who was a hostile stranger to her; she didn’t understand why she must share her mother with him. But although Lady Yanagisawa hated to hurt Kikuko, she couldn’t let her daughter come between her husband and herself.

“You must go,” she said, pushing Kikuko toward the door.

“Me no want go!” Kikuko cried. She burst into sobs. She fell to the floor, pounding her fists, kicking, and shrieking.

“Get her out of here!” the chamberlain shouted, enraged.

Desperate to preserve her foothold in his life, Lady Yanagisawa carried the hysterical Kikuko out of the office and thrust her into the arms of a maid passing along the corridor.

“Take Kikuko-
chan
to her room,” she ordered.

As the maid bore her away, Kikuko screamed, “Mama, Mama!”

Fighting the urge to rush after her beloved daughter, Lady Yanagisawa returned to her husband. He was pacing the room in swift, restless strides, as he always did when agitated. “If that ever happens again, I’ll send the brat away,” he said.

Lady Yanagisawa clasped a hand against her throat. That he might banish his own child and separate her from Kikuko! Stabbed by his cruelty, she suddenly thought of the reports from her spies in Reiko’s house, who’d described Sano romping and laughing with Masahiro. Sano adored his child. Sano would never treat Reiko the way the chamberlain did Lady Yanagisawa. According to her spies, Sano made passionate love to Reiko almost every night. Reiko didn’t have to act like a dog begging for crumbs of affection. Lady Yanagisawa seethed with anger and hatred toward Reiko, who had more than her share of good luck.

“Forgive me,” she said as she knelt and humbly bowed to her husband. “I’ll see that Kikuko behaves herself in the future.”

“See that you do,” the chamberlain said, pacing. “I don’t need any more annoyance at a time like this.”

“No, my lord,” Lady Yanagisawa murmured. “I know you’ve been troubled recently.”

He halted, and his gaze pierced her. “How do you know?”

Lady Yanagisawa didn’t want to anger him further by confessing that she spied on him. “I—I’ve heard talk about you and Lord Matsudaira.”

The chamberlain’s sneer mocked her clumsy fib. She was mortified to realize that he knew all about her spying. Probably he thought her obsession a harmless joke. Why else would he allow her to intrude on his privacy? Blinking away tears of humiliation, she thought enviously once more of Reiko, who was Sano’s confidante.

“It’s true that Lord Matsudaira poses a major problem to me,” the chamberlain said. “Unless I defeat him, I’ll be ousted from the
bakufu
and run out of Edo—or put to death.”

A gasp of horror rose in Lady Yanagisawa. Despite all her eavesdropping, she’d not guessed how bad things were. The idea of her beloved husband gone forever was too terrible to contemplate. Instead, Lady Yanagisawa was determined to change misfortune to triumph for them both.

“My lord—” The presumptuousness of what she planned to say caused her to hesitate.

The chamberlain gave her an impatient, quizzical frown.

She blurted, “My lord, I beg you to let me help you.”

Surprise arched the chamberlain’s eyebrows. “My troubles concern politics and war. Those are hardly the business of women. What could you do against my enemies?”

Lady Yanagisawa knew how small, weak, and useless she must appear to him and the whole world of men. She hadn’t the slightest notion of how she might serve his purposes. But an unfamiliar, physical sensation of power flooded her like a magic spell born of her desires and his peril. She rose and stood directly facing the chamberlain. For the first time ever, she looked straight into his eyes.

“You’d be surprised at what I can do,” she said.

The chamberlain stared, disconcerted, as if he, too, felt the magic. Then he bestowed upon her a smile so replete with approval and insinuation that a sexual thrill rushed through her. “I may give you a chance to surprise me,” he said.

Just then, his principal secretary appeared at the door. “Excuse me, Honorable Chamberlain, but here are the latest reports on Lord Matsudaira’s army.”

The chamberlain flicked his fingers at Lady Yanagisawa, dismissing her. For once she didn’t mind. She hastened from the room, filled with such gleeful anticipation that she ran outside to the cold, wet garden, where she spun around in an exuberant dance.

She would help her husband defeat Lord Matsudaira and gain supreme, permanent control over the
bakufu.
His love would be her reward. When he ruled Japan with her by his side, she need never be jealous of Reiko again.

11

Late at night, Reiko sat in her chamber, drying her freshly washed hair at the charcoal brazier. Her old nurse, O-sugi, came to the door and said, “Your honorable husband has arrived.”

“Good.” Reiko eagerly looked forward to hearing news of his investigation and telling him what she’d discovered.

When Sano didn’t appear at once, she went looking for him. She found him outside the kitchen, a low building near the back of the estate, where cooks prepared the vast quantities of food required to feed everyone in the household. He and two servants stood in the yard that contained a well, outdoor hearths, and cooking paraphernalia. Sano held a lantern, while the servants moved a huge wooden tub.

“There it is.” Sano pointed to a trapdoor in the ground where the tub had sat. “Seal it up right away.”

“Yes, master,” chorused the servants.

Icy wind chilled Reiko as she watched them from the veranda. “What are you doing?” she called to Sano.

“I’m plugging a hole in our defenses. Anyone who managed to climb the wall could sneak through this trapdoor, into the cellar, and then into the rest of the house.”

Reiko beheld the trapdoor with surprise. “I never knew it was there.”

“I only learned about it today,” Sano said.

“How?” Reiko said.

“From Lord Matsudaira’s nephew Daiemon. But it’s a long story. Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you.”

In their chamber, a maid brought them sake, which Reiko heated and poured into cups. They drank, and Sano described the events of his day.

“So now Daiemon and Chamberlain Yanagisawa are both definitely suspects in the murder,” Reiko said, alarmed by the dangerous turn the investigation had taken. “Whichever you pursue, you’ll be in trouble.”

Sano nodded. “And it’s looking as though Yanagisawa is the likelier culprit.”

“You’ve proved that Makino was going to defect and the chamberlain had reason to assassinate him?” Reiko said.

“Not exactly proved,” Sano said. “I did find the hidden gate that Daiemon claims he used to sneak out of Makino’s estate. That suggests there’s some truth in what he said. And I’ve talked to my informants in the
bakufu.
They say they’ve heard rumors that Makino and Yanagisawa had a falling-out.”

“Could the rumors have been spread by the Matsudaira clan to mislead you?”

“Possibly. That would explain why they’ve surfaced only now, after Daiemon became a suspect and needed corroboration for his story. But I can’t ignore them just because I don’t want to believe them.”

Coals hissed in the brazier and the wind buffeted the mansion as they contemplated Chamberlain Yanagisawa as a primary suspect. Although Lord Matsudaira was just as ruthless, Reiko would rather have Sano pitted against him, because she feared Yanagisawa more. Yanagisawa, not Lord Matsudaira, had conspired to destroy Sano in the past. If Sano accused Yanagisawa of the murder, their truce would end.

“The fact that Yanagisawa has been implicated doesn’t clear the members of Makino’s household,” said Reiko. “According to what you’ve just told me, they had the most obvious opportunity to kill Makino. And their stories about that night leave plenty of room for doubt. Can you apply more force to get the facts from them?”

“I will,” Sano said, “but too much force can produce false confessions. I want the truth about this crime.”

Reiko carefully chose her next words. “If one of them should prove to be guilty, that would solve many problems.”

Sano nodded as he understood her hint that he could benefit by fixing the blame for the murder within Makino’s household. “Even though Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira would each prefer that I pronounce the other guilty, each would be less angry at me if I persecuted somebody else than if I went after him. But I’ll not risk punishing an innocent person for the murder.” His tone was adamant. “Not even to serve my own interests.”

“Nor would I want you to,” said Reiko. “But will you at least continue investigating the suspects in Makino’s own household?”

“Of course,” Sano said. “While they’re in his funeral procession tomorrow, I can search their pasts for clues to their guilt or innocence.”

“I’ve learned some things that might help you with that,” Reiko said. “Today I called on some friends. They say that Makino’s wife was once an attendant at Asakusa Jinja Shrine. And his concubine once lived with a merchant named Rakuami.”

Sano raised his eyebrows, signifying interest and approval. “That gives me a place to start investigating the women.”

“I just wish I’d been able to learn what went on in Makino’s house that might have led up to the murder,” Reiko said. “But the folk there keep to themselves. Nobody could tell me anything about the relations between Makino and the people closest to him.”

“Nor could my informants tell me,” Sano said. “Only the people in his estate were privy to their own business with Makino. And since they’re all suspects or potential suspects, I can’t rely on anything they say.”

Sano compressed his lips in frustration. “I had considered planting one of my detectives among the servants as a spy. But the residents aren’t likely to trust a strange man who suddenly appears while they’re under suspicion of murder.”

A sudden idea occurred to Reiko. Her heartbeat quickened with excitement, daring, and trepidation. “What if you had a spy who was practically invisible?”

“If I did, I could solve the mystery in no time.” Sano laughed, taking her suggestion as a joke.

“I’m serious,” Reiko said. “You do have such a spy.”

Sano regarded her with puzzlement. “Who is it you’re talking about?”

“Myself,” said Reiko.

“You?” Surprise inflected Sano’s voice.

“Yes. I could disguise myself as a ladies’ maid and wait on the women.” Animated by enthusiasm, Reiko ignored the shocked look Sano gave her. “Maids are hardly noticed by their employers. People say and do the most private things in front of them. If you could arrange a post for me in Makino’s house, I could spy to my heart’s content and no one would suspect me of working for you. No one would even take a second look at me.”

“I notice the maids,” Sano protested. “A samurai is always aware of who’s near him.”

“Which of our maids brought us our sake?” Reiko challenged.

Sano pondered. Confusion clouded his eyes.

“It was O-aki,” Reiko said, vindicated. “You don’t remember because you didn’t notice her.”

“You did,” Sano pointed out.

“I’m different from other people. I have Lady Yanagisawa to thank for that.” Only by closely observing her maids, and weeding out those who showed too much interest in her, could Reiko rid herself of Lady Yanagisawa’s spies.

“But I never talk about anything confidential when the maids are around,” Sano said.

“That’s because your life has accustomed you to being discreet,” Reiko said. “But I think Makino’s wife and concubine are probably just as careless as most people.”

“All right, you win that argument,” Sano conceded reluctantly. “But for an official like me to disguise his wife and send her out spying—” A gesture of his hand negated the very idea.

Reiko gave Sano a glance that reminded him how often they did things that weren’t done by other people. “I could call on the wife and concubine, and ask them outright questions, but even a fool would know better than to admit anything to the wife of the
sōsakan-sama.
And if one of those women killed Makino, she was smart enough to alter the scene of his death and hide what happened to him.”

“If someone in that house is the murderer, then it’s too dangerous for you to go spying there,” Sano said. “Someone who dared kill a man as important as Makino would certainly kill you to avoid exposure if you were to get caught spying.”

“I would be careful not to get caught,” Reiko insisted. “Besides, I’m trained in the martial arts. Makino’s wife and concubine aren’t. I can handle those women.”

“Don’t forget that two of the suspects in the house are men,” Sano said. “One of them could be the killer.”

“I’ve fought men before, and won,” Reiko reminded him.

A sudden memory flared in her mind. For an instant she was on the mountain highway, fighting the Dragon King’s men. The abduction had taught her the limitations of her strength. Now Reiko felt a bad spell encroaching. This time, the panic spawned by her ordeal bred new fear of what could happen to her in Makino’s house. She’d survived one encounter with a killer, but she might not be so lucky again.

She gulped sake to quell the panic and hoped Sano wouldn’t notice her agitation. She’d hidden the spells from him because she didn’t want him to worry about her. And if he knew she had them, he would not only never let her spy, he might never let her help him again.

Sano was watching her hands tremble around the sake cup. “Why are you shaking?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Reiko said in a tone that denied any problems and implied that he was imagining them.

To her relief, the spell faded; yet Sano eyed her with wary concern. He said, “I won’t allow you to risk yourself. The investigation is my responsibility, not yours.”

Although Reiko dreaded to leave home, and expose herself to terrors possibly worse than in the Dragon King’s palace, spying on Makino’s household now became a test she needed to pass. “It’s my duty to help you,” she said.

Sano shook his head regretfully and clasped her hands in his. “I almost lost you to the Dragon King. I can’t bear to chance losing you again.”

“But I believe that the danger to our whole family is greater if I don’t go.” Reiko withdrew her hands from Sano’s restraining grasp. “If you can’t prove that somebody in Makino’s house is guilty, you’ll have to go after Chamberlain Yanagisawa or Lord Matsudaira. Neither one wants to be punished for killing the shogun’s dear friend. Either one would kill you to prevent you from naming him as the murderer. Maybe you don’t mind sacrificing yourself for the sake of honor, but what about Masahiro and me?”

Sano’s features clouded at the thought of his wife a widow, his son fatherless, at the mercy of a cruel world. But he said, “You might not be able to find evidence against Makino’s wife or concubine even if you do spy on them.”

Reiko nodded, acknowledging his logic, yet her resolve held firm. “What if you can’t solve the mystery? The shogun will execute you, as well as all your family and retainers.” A samurai who disobeyed orders from the shogun was considered a criminal, and the law decreed that the kin and close associates of a criminal share his punishment.

“Let’s not assume I’m going to fail,” Sano said, clearly affronted by the suggestion. “I’ve always succeeded in the past. I’ll succeed this time—without involving you.”

“I might actually be safer in Makino’s estate than at home,” Reiko said.

“How can that be?” Sano said, perplexed.

“Lady Yanagisawa is still after me,” Reiko said. “I need a place to hide from her while I think what to do about her.”

“In Senior Elder Makino’s house?” Sano gave Reiko a look of sheer disbelief. “You’re seeking haven from one danger in a place filled with other dangers?”

“Lady Yanagisawa and her spies might wonder where I’d gone, but they’d never think to look for me there,” Reiko said. “I’d be safe from her, while helping you.”