The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria (19 page)

“Nor does Sano have the facts that my other spies have uncovered about Treasury Minister Nitta and Lady Wisteria’s chaperone.” Hoshina heard himself speaking louder to bridge the distance between him and Yanagisawa. “When Nitta left Yoshiwara the night of the murder, he didn’t go straight home. He rode a short distance with his entourage, then returned alone to the quarter and bribed the guards to let him back in. The guards didn’t tell Hirata when he interviewed them, because he only asked whether they’d let Nitta out, and they’re in my pay. Nitta could have sneaked back inside the Owariya and stabbed Lord Mitsuyoshi.”

Instead of replying, Yanagisawa gazed into space, smoking his pipe. Hoshina wondered whether the mood indicated boredom with their affair. Was he about to become one of Yanagisawa’s many cast-off paramours? Hoshina experienced a pang of dismay, because his career, as well as his happiness, depended on Yanagisawa.

“And Mitsuyoshi had been carrying on a flirtation with the
yarite
.” Hoshina, aware that he’d begun nervously clenching and unclenching his muscles, stilled himself. “It seems that he promised to take Momoko as his concubine. He liked to toy with people, but the old fool took him seriously, and when she found out he’d been joking, she was furious. So she did know him, and she had good reason to want him dead, which contradicts what she said earlier.”

“So you have incriminating evidence against all three suspects,” Yanagisawa said. “That makes one as likely a culprit as any other. Therefore, you’re no closer to solving the case than you were yesterday,”

Praise from his lover always exhilarated Hoshina; criticism like this was torture. As he gazed at Yanagisawa, resentment tinged his desire, because their sexual bond gave Yanagisawa all the more power over him.

“Sooner or later, my evidence will accumulate and point to the killer,” Hoshina defended himself. “Don’t you care?”

“I care as much as the case deserves,” Yanagisawa said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hoshina demanded, stung by his lover’s indifference. That they’d often exchanged private confidences seemed forgotten now; Yanagisawa was deliberately shutting Hoshina out. Hoshina rose, unable to sit still any longer. “Are you saying that the murder of the shogun’s heir doesn’t matter to you? That you don’t care whether the killer is caught? After I’ve been chasing clues and witnesses for the past two days?”

He saw a warning gleam in Yanagisawa’s eyes, but plunged recklessly ahead: “Or don’t you care whether it’s Sano or I who solves the case?”

Yanagisawa tilted his head, regarding Hoshina with detachment. “Why are you so angry at me?”

“I’m not angry.” Turning away, Hoshina took a deep breath, swallowing his emotions. “Just confused. I expected you to take my side in the meeting with Sano and the shogun. But you left me flapping in the wind like a flag on the back of a soldier who rides into battle thinking he’s leading a charge, while his army sits on the sidelines. Why didn’t you join my attack on Sano?”

Whining like a petulant woman was no way to retain Yanagisawa’s interest or respect; but Hoshina couldn’t help himself. He heard the rustle of silk as Yanagisawa came to stand behind him. Their closeness increased his agitation.

“I’m sorry if you feel hurt because you think I deserted you,” Yanagisawa said, “but remember that I’m the one who leads the charges. If you dash off on your own, don’t expect me to follow. That was the wrong time to expose your rivalry with Sano. My silence should have made that obvious to you. If you’re disappointed by the results of your actions, that’s what you deserve.”

The rebuke struck fear into Hoshina, for he had much more to lose than Yanagisawa’s affection. The chamberlain had ruined men unwise enough to cross him, and those banished, executed, or assassinated included former partners. Though their affair had begun with mutual expectations of true, eternal love, and Yanagisawa had at first seemed happier and more tolerant than before, Hoshina knew old habits died hard.

“I don’t understand your objections,” Hoshina said, facing Yanagisawa. “I came to Edo to advance my career in the
bakufu
and prove myself capable of managing the police force.” While he enjoyed his privileged status as Yanagisawa’s lover, he needed to show he was worthy of his post and hadn’t just seduced his way to a high rank. “But Sano is a constant hindrance. How will I demonstrate what I can do, while he and his private army of detectives are always getting the important cases, winning the major victories, and reaping all the shogun’s esteem? Don’t you want me to succeed in the job you brought me to Edo to do?”

“I thought you came here to serve me as my chief retainer,” Yanagisawa said, and disapproval shadowed his face.

Hoshina involuntarily retreated a step as he perceived how selfish his aims had sounded. “Yes, of course I did. Serving you is my first wish.” He hastened to appeal to Yanagisawa’s interests: “Don’t you want Sano out of the way? Forgive me if you think I’ve gone against your wishes, but I’m only continuing what you started years ago. This may be the best opportunity to get rid of Sano forever.”

“Now is not the time,” Yanagisawa reiterated. “Lord Mitsuyoshi’s murder has created many opportunities besides the one you’re so eager to seize. You are viewing the situation with too narrow a focus. You’ve not been in Edo long enough to see the larger picture, or appreciate serious concerns that extend beyond the present time.” Impatience colored his voice. “I’m not trying to cheat you of what you want—far from it. So believe me when I say that if my plans go as well as I expect, Sano will become a matter of insignificance to us both.”

“What plans?” Hoshina was completely perplexed; yet he could appreciate the irony of his situation. Night after night, they lay together, naked and vulnerable. Yanagisawa trusted Hoshina with his body—but not all his secrets. He considered knowledge the ultimate power, which he never yielded. Hoshina understood this, but Yanagisawa’s distrust hurt him deeply.

“I went to see my son today,” Yanagisawa said.

The abrupt change of subject disconcerted and baffled Hoshina. Frowning as he attempted to follow the twists and turns of his lover’s devious mind, Hoshina said, “Which one?”

He knew the chamberlain had at least four sons, all born to different women other than his wife. They lived with their mothers in estates outside Edo. Hoshina had learned of their existence via gossip in the
bakufu
, not from Yanagisawa. He’d heard Yanagisawa periodically visited the children, though the chamberlain had never before mentioned that to Hoshina either.

“Yoritomo. The eldest. He’s sixteen years old now,” Yanagisawa said.

That boy was the child of a former palace lady-in-waiting, Hoshina recalled. The lady, a Tokugawa relative, had been a beauty with whom Yanagisawa had enjoyed a brief affair.

“Is something wrong? Is your son ill?” Hoshina hoped that a mere family problem, and not dissatisfaction with their life together, had turned Yanagisawa cold toward him.

“Quite the contrary.” A faint, proud smile touched Yanagisawa’s mouth. “Yoritomo is the image of myself when I was young. Not as clever or strong-willed, of course. He’ll do very well indeed.”

Jealousy pierced Hoshina like a hot needle in his heart. He’d never cared much about the relationship between Yanagisawa and his sons; yet he hated for Yanagisawa to praise anyone after criticizing him.

“I’m glad you’re pleased by your son,” Hoshina said stiffly, “but what has he got to do with the murder case? Why is he more important than destroying a man who’s defeated and humiliated you so many times?”

Yanagisawa lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “I’ve just told you.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Yanagisawa’s expression softened, but Hoshina perceived this as condescension rather than love. He dreaded offending Yanagisawa, yet couldn’t relinquish his campaign against his rival.

“Sano’s influence in the
bakufu
grows daily,” Hoshina said. “His allies include many high officials. And if he solves this case, he’ll rise another notch in the shogun’s estimation—while everyone else, including us, moves down. He could eventually take your place. Your treatment of him has given him ample cause to hate you. I think he’s biding his time until he gains enough power to strike.”

“He won’t,” Yanagisawa said with offhand confidence.

“Because of the truce between him and you?” Hoshina couldn’t keep the scorn out of his voice. “Your truce is but an unspoken agreement that will last only as long as you both honor it. I say we should take the offensive, break the truce before Sano does, and strike at him now, while he’s vulnerable.”

“I’m aware of the hazards of a truce,” Yanagisawa said, reproachful. “At present they’re of minor concern to me, because I have the advantage over Sano.”

“What advantage is that?” Baffled beyond endurance, Hoshina burst out, “I hate it when you speak in riddles! Why won’t you explain what’s going on?”

The chamberlain appeared unaffected by Hoshina’s anger. “Certain things are best not spoken outright,” Yanagisawa said. “Not even my house is free of spies. I’ve told you my plans, and it’s up to you to figure them out. But I will make one thing clear: You shall not break the truce.”

Hoshina started to protest, but the adamant expression on Yanagisawa’s face silenced him. Then Yanagisawa chuckled.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” he said. “Just be patient, and I promise you’ll be quite satisfied with what happens.”

Although Hoshina wished he could believe Yanagisawa, he couldn’t place his faith in schemes he didn’t understand, or his trust in a man so unpredictable as his lover. He still considered Sano a threat to the chamberlain’s power and his own rise in the
bakufu
. Hoshina must find a way to advance himself at Sano’s expense, without defying his master. But how? Frustrated ambition roiled inside him.

Yanagisawa smiled; his dark eyes kindled like liquid fire. “That’s enough talk of politics for tonight,” he said.

Whatever of his lover’s other hints had evaded Hoshina, he could interpret very well the innuendo in Yanagisawa’s voice, the curve of his mouth, and the hand he extended. Desire flared in Hoshina; yet he resisted surrender even as he grew erect. How he hated for the chamberlain to rebuke, baffle, taunt, and thwart him, then expect pleasure from him! Hoshina’s pride rebelled. For a moment he hated Yanagisawa.

But need prevailed over resentment. Hoshina craved sex as proof that Yanagisawa still loved him. He let Yanagisawa draw him down onto the bed, the only place in the world where they were equals.

Outside their chamber, Lady Yanagisawa stood peering in through a chink in the wall. She watched the naked bodies of her husband and his lover entwine, grapple, and heave. Her face remained impassive while she listened to their gasps and moans. As they convulsed in climax, a silent breath eased from her. Then she turned and walked away down the dark, vacant corridor.

14

Troops marched through the Nihonbashi merchant district. Their torches smoked in the night air; their footsteps shattered the quiet. They stopped at each house and pounded their fists against closed doors and shutters.