Red Chrysanthemum (11 page)

“We’ll let you say good-bye to Lady Reiko before she’s dead,” Torai said.

“Be thankful that I haven’t chosen to punish you for your wife’s crime,” Lord Matsudaira threatened Sano.

The shogun cleared his throat loudly. Everyone looked at him. “Aren’t you all, ahh, forgetting something?” He glowered at their puzzled faces. “I am in charge.” Frightened as well as elated by his own boldness, he thumped his fist against his thin, concave chest, then addressed Lord Matsudaira: “
I
decide what happens, not y
ou.”

“Of course, Honorable Cousin.” Lord Matsudaira feigned meekness, but his eyes glinted with ire because the shogun had pulled rank on him. “What do you wish to be done?”

The shogun raised his finger, and inspiration lit his face. Sano exchanged glances with Hirata as his hopes rode on the shogun’s whim. “We should consult the witness who was present during the murder.”

Sano saw his bewilderment reflected on the other men’s faces. Hoshina said, “What witness?”

Their lord regarded them as if he thought them idiots. “Why, ahh, the victim, of course. Lord Mori.”

Stunned silence filled the room for a moment. “Pardon me, Honorable Cousin,” Lord Matsudaira said cautiously, “but how can we consult a dead man?”

The shogun preened, enjoying his own ingenuity. “Through a medium. I happen to have one here in the palace. She is most talented at communicating with the spirit world.”

Sano was astounded even though he knew the shogun was interested in supernatural phenomena and kept fortune-tellers, magicians, and cosmographers at court. The shogun had never before proposed using a medium in a murder investigation. And Sano had doubts that communication with the dead was possible even though many other folk besides the shogun believed it was.

He read the same skepticism on Lord Matsudaira’s face. “Honorable Cousin,” Lord Matsudaira began to protest.

The shogun raised a hand. “No objections! I have made my decision.” He spoke to a guard: “Bring Lady Nyogo here.”

As the guard hurried to obey, Hirata gave Sano a worried look. Sano shrugged, indicating that whatever happened now could hardly make things worse. Police Commissioner Hoshina and Captain Torai sank to their knees. Torai was watching Hoshina; he clearly wondered how this new development would affect them. Hoshina seemed suspended between hope, expectancy, and apprehension. Lord Matsudaira looked thoroughly vexed.

“Nyogo is a lady-in-waiting in the Large Interior,” the shogun explained. The Large Interior was the section of the palace where his wife, mother, and concubines lived.

The guard soon returned, bringing Lady Nyogo. Sano had expected a sinister old crone such as many mystics were, but Nyogo couldn’t have been more than fourteen years of age. She had a round, smiling, innocent face. Her pink and orange floral kimono clothed a plump, childish body; she walked with a bouncy, skipping gait. Her long braid bobbed. She knelt and bowed.

“Lord Mori has died,” the shogun told her. “We wish you to contact his spirit so that we may, ahh, speak with him. Can you conduct a seance for us?”

Her smile widened, showing teeth like pearls. “Yes, Your Excellency,” she said in a girlish voice.

She seemed as happy as if invited to play a favorite game. Although Sano had been prepared to dislike her, he couldn’t help but find her endearing.

Servants closed the shutters, darkening the room. They placed a table in front of Nyogo and lit candles and incense burners on it. Sano saw Lord Matsudaira mutter to himself,
Superstitious rot!
The shogun rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. Nyogo bowed her head over her altar. The candle flames illuminated her smooth young face as the incense smoke filled the chamber with potent sweetness. She closed her eyes. Suspense hushed the assembly. Everyone watched Nyogo.

She uttered a piercing wail. Her head tossed; her body rocked violently. Her eyes opened; they rolled up, showing their whites.

“She’s going into a trance!” the shogun exclaimed.

Nyogo rocked, gasped, and moaned. Then she went quiet and limp. Her head lolled. An eerie, droning sound came from her mouth. Spasms twitched her. The exposed whites of her eyes gleamed with unholy radiance. Sano was impressed in spite of his skepticism. The shogun leaned toward Nyogo.

“Lord Mori, are you there?” he called. “Speak to us.”

“Greetings, Your Excellency.” The deep, masculine voice issued from Nyogo’s mouth. Her lips didn’t move; her throat seemed merely a channel for the words. “I am at your command in death as I was during my life.”

Sano, Hirata, Lord Matsudaira, and Captain Torai stared in astonishment. The shogun nodded, satisfied. Hoshina sat motionless with that peculiar expression on his face.

“We wish to know who, ahh, murdered you,” the shogun said. “Can you tell us what happened?”

9

The Dead Man’s Tale

GENROKU YEAR 11, MONTH 5 (JUNE 1698)

Lord Mori sat in his office with his secretary, dictating letters while enjoying the bright, peaceful day. A servant came to the door and said, “Excuse me, but you have a visitor. It’s an envoy from Chamberlain Sano.”

Anxiety beset Lord Mori. He was timid by nature, always nervous around people he didn’t know, and what could the chamberlain want with him? He hastened to the reception chamber. There sat a beautiful woman dressed in luxuriant, multicolored silk robes. Lord Mori halted in surprise. He’d not expected the envoy to be female. This was most unusual, most discomfiting.

“Who—what—” he stammered.

The woman bowed and smiled. “I am Lady Reiko, wife of Chamberlain Sano.”

Lord Mori’s surprise increased. Since when did any official send his wife as an envoy?

Reiko seemed pleased by his reaction. She also seemed completely sure of herself, perfectly at ease. Lord Mori realized he’d better pay her some respect or offend Chamberlain Sano. He advanced cautiously into the room.

“I am honored by your visit,” he said. “May I ask why you’ve come?”

“My husband and I thought I should make your acquaintance,” Lady Reiko said. She gazed intently at Lord Mori. He felt that she could see his timidity, his shameful lack of samurai courage. He grew all the more nervous, but dimples wreathed her sly smile. “Please be seated.” She gestured toward the space opposite her on the floor, as if this were her domain and he a supplicant.

Lord Mori meekly obeyed. Another, stronger man would have put this brazen woman in her place no matter that she was the chamberlain’s wife, but he couldn’t find the words. He merely shrank under her continued scrutiny. Her beauty seemed more malevolent than attractive.

“How are things in your provinces?” she asked.

“Very well.” Lord Mori thought she resembled a snake with brilliant, jewel-like scales, weaving through the grass in search of someone to strike.

“Oh?” She raised her painted eyebrows. “I hear that you have been having financial troubles.”

Lord Mori was too shocked to respond, but not only because finances weren’t discussed in polite company and no well-bred woman would mention them. How did Lady Reiko know about his troubles? What was she up to?

“Your father squandered much of your family fortune,” Reiko continued. “You inherited many big debts. To make matters worse, the harvest in your provinces has been poor for the past few years. You’ve been forced to borrow money and incur more debts to cover your expenses and pay your retainers.”

She must have learned these shameful facts from her husband’s spies. Lord Mori recalled that she was known to involve herself in Chamberlain Sano’s business, but why was she here? Surely not just to embarrass him?

“I prefer not to talk about these things.” Lord Mori meant to sound severe and silence Reiko, but his voice quavered.

Mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Well, perhaps you’d rather talk about how things are improving for you lately. Your alliance with Lord Matsudaira has certainly helped. I hear he’s reduced the amount of tribute that you pay the Tokugawa regime, and he’s granted you loans from his personal treasury. You’ve become quite the man of status and privilege.”

“Lord Matsudaira has been most generous,” Lord Mori said, hot with shame that he didn’t have the nerve to throw Lady Reiko out of his house. Helpless anger roiled inside him because she’d called to mind some less than admirable facts about him.

He belonged to a clan of proud, ancient heritage but unimpressive accomplishment. His ancestors had survived by allying with men who were stronger, braver, and more ambitious. Their one talent was the ability to pick the winner in a given conflict. Lord Mori had bet on Lord Matsudaira and contributed troops, arms, and money during the war, and Lord Matsudaira had won. Now Lord Mori’s future depended on Lord Matsudaira.

“But you shouldn’t count on Lord Matsudaira.” Reiko said in a low, confidential tone, “His position isn’t as strong as it was. He’s alienated a lot of people, made many enemies. His need for power, and his fear of losing it, are driving him mad. His rule over the government is slipping.”

“Those are just rumors.” Lord Mori had heard them; they were all over Edo.

Reiko shook her head; she gave him a pitying look. “I’m afraid they’re true: Lord Matsudaira is heading for a fall.”

Terror seized Lord Mori. If Lord Matsudaira did lose power, what would happen to him?

“When he falls,” Reiko said, “you and his other allies will go down, too. And it won’t be long now.”

“Merciful gods,” Lord Mori exclaimed, unable to hide his dread of another war and his clan’s destruction. “What am I to do?”

Reiko smiled. “Fortunately, I can help you. My husband has sent me here to make you a proposition.” She beckoned Lord Mori to come closer.

Again he thought of a snake; he could almost hear its death-rattle as it undulated toward him. But he inched nearer to Reiko, unable to resist her. She whispered, “My husband is gaining more allies and power every day. Soon he’ll be in a position to challenge Lord Matsudaira. He is mounting a secret campaign to take over the government. There will be great rewards for anyone who joins him.”

Lord Mori recoiled in shock. “You’re asking me to betray Lord Matsudaira! And you want me to help put your husband in control of the country!”

“It’s to your advantage as well as ours,” Reiko said.

“It’s treason!”

She shrugged. “Call it what you please. But my husband will go ahead with his campaign with or without you. And he’s going to succeed. If you want security and prosperity, then you should consider his proposition.”

“I swore my eternal loyalty to Lord Matsudaira,” Lord Mori protested. “It’s a matter of honor!”

Reiko’s smile mocked him. “There are times when you must choose between honor and survival. This is one of them. If your positions were reversed, Lord Matsudaira wouldn’t hesitate to betray you. Don’t be a fool.”

Offended and furious, Lord Mori clambered to his feet, pointed a shaky finger at the door, and said, “Get out! Tell Chamberlain Sano that I’ll never join forces with him!”

She rose, the mocking smile still on her face. “Oh, but you will. Because otherwise, he’ll ruin you. And don’t think that you can sit back and take the chance that Lord Matsudaira will fight a war against my husband and win. My husband will destroy all Lord Matsudaira’s allies before a war ever starts. And you’ll be the first to go.”

Reiko moved so close to Lord Mori that he could see his frightened face reflected in her glittering eyes. “He’ll strip you of your lands, confiscate your wealth. While you and your family starve to death, your honor will be small comfort.”

She laughed and glided toward the door. The hem of her robe slithered along the tatami. She paused and turned. “I’ll give you a few days to decide whether to join my husband or stand by Lord Matsudaira. I trust that you’ll have come to your senses by then.” She added in a warning tone, “If you tell anyone what’s been said between us, my husband will rescind his offer, and you’d best prepare yourself to come under attack.”

For the next few days, Lord Mori vacillated. He couldn’t eat, sleep, or work, for fear that he would make the wrong decision. He’d never trusted his own judgment, and he wished someone would tell him whether Lord Matsudaira was really in danger and Lady Reiko and Chamberlain Sano could really make good on their threats. He felt utterly alone, helpless, and miserable.

His wife and son noticed his sorry state. On the third evening after Lady Reiko’s visit, while they sat at dinner and he picked at his food, his wife said, “Something is wrong with you, Husband.” Concern lined her gentle face. “Are you ill?”

“No.” Lord Mori spoke gruffly and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Then what’s troubling you?”

“Nothing!” he shouted, his temper cracking under the strain. “Don’t fuss over me!”

Enju said, “Father, we’re so worried about you. We want to help. You must tell us what the problem is.”

“I can’t,” Lord Mori said. But he’d never been able to keep secrets from these two people that he loved most in the world. He broke down and sobbed as he told them about Lady Reiko and Chamberlain Sano’s proposition.

Their eyes glazed with horrified shock. Lord Mori felt even worse because he’d shifted his troubles to them, and what could they do? “Either I stand by Lord Matsudaira and we’re ruined, or I break my vow, ally with Chamberlain Sano, and violate my honor. Whatever I do, I’m damned.”

“You must uphold your honor,” Lady Mori said although her voice was hushed by her fear of losing everything. “Tell Lady Reiko that you’ll not turn on your master.”

“Yes,” Enju said bravely. “It’s your duty as a samurai.”

Lord Mori beheld his family through the tears that blurred his eyes.

“But Chamberlain Sano will punish you along with me. I can’t let him hurt you.”

“It’s our duty to uphold your honor,” Lady Mori said.

“Come what may,” Enju said.

Their willingness to suffer for his sake moved Lord Mori to a fresh bout of weeping. They put their arms around him. The three of them embraced as they shared a vision of themselves and three centuries of Mori clan tradition crushed into dust.