Red Chrysanthemum (13 page)

“I agree,” Hoshina said.

Captain Torai nodded. Hirata started to protest in Sano’s defense. The shogun waved his hand, shushing Hirata. “All right,” he said with a sad sigh. “I suppose I, ahh, have no choice. Chamberlain Sano, I hereby sentence you and your wife to death by, ahh, decapitation.” He told the guards, “Take him and Lady Reiko.”

The guards moved toward Sano. Victorious smiles lit Hoshina’s and Torai’s faces. Lord Matsudaira nodded, content that he’d eliminated a challenger. Hirata leapt to his feet.

“You can’t do this!” he shouted, placing himself between Sano and the guards. “I won’t let you!”

“Sit down!” Lord Matsudaira ordered.

Sano was less afraid of dying than furious at the injustice. The three years he’d labored to keep the Tokugawa regime running, to quench insurrections! The previous years he’d spent risking his life to catch criminals! According to the samurai code of honor, his masters didn’t owe him a thing for his services; but neither did he deserve to be killed on the strength of such baseless accusations. He rose, swelling with indignation, and pushed Hirata aside.

“All right,” Sano shouted, “take me!” He spread his arms. As the guards seized them, he turned his fury on the shogun, “Execute me if you will. I’m ready to die at your pleasure. But who’ll help you run the government when I’m gone?”

“Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought of that.” The shogun looked aghast at the prospect of managing national affairs by himself.

“I will,” Hoshina said, almost salivating because the post of chamberlain was within his reach.

Sano said to Lord Matsudaira, “Whoever killed Lord Mori is still out there, free as a bird. Can you take the chance that he won’t kill again? What if Lord Mori’s murder was only the first of many? Can you risk another campaign of terror?”

The spirit of the assassin dubbed the Ghost seemed to poison the atmosphere. Indecision flickered in Lord Matsudaira’s eyes. Fortunately Sano knew Lord Matsudaira and the shogun well enough to play upon their fears. He said, “History could repeat itself. I caught the Ghost for you. When I’m gone, who will catch the next renegade?”

He swept a scornful gaze over Hoshina. “Certainly not you. Remember that you let the Ghost kill five times before I stopped him.” Hoshina and Torai glared. Sano turned back to Lord Matsudaira and the shogun. “If Lord Mori’s death is part of a plot to seize power, then whoever is responsible will continue it after I’m dead and laugh at you for punishing the wrong man.” He finished with a passion born of his outrage and his will to survive: “Killing me would be a ridiculous waste. You need me alive, to find out the truth about Lord Mori’s murder and protect the regime.”

There was silence while Hoshina opened his mouth to speak, Lord Matsudaira stopped him with a glance, and the shogun tried to figure out what Sano had said. Sano stood immobilized by the guards. Then Lord Matsudaira heaved a breath of resignation.

“All right,” he said grudgingly. “Your Excellency, we must spare Chamberlain Sano’s life so that he can help us get to the bottom of this.”

The shogun nodded, happy to have a decision made for him. Lord Matsudaira gestured for the guards to release Sano. Even as they did, Sano felt less relief than a sense that he stood on a narrow line between freedom and the funeral pyre.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll continue my investigation into the murder,” he said.

Hoshina burst out, “But Chamberlain Sano and his wife are suspects. He can’t be trusted to conduct a fair investigation!”

Lord Matsudaira bent a speculative, antagonistic look on Hoshina. “Everyone is a suspect. Come to think of it, I’ve noticed that Chamberlain Sano’s personal army isn’t the only one that’s grown. How many troops do you command now? How ambitious are you?”

Hoshina subsided in dismay that Lord Matsudaira’s distrust now included him. Captain Torai said anxiously, “But don’t forget that Lady Reiko was caught at the scene. No matter what Chamberlain Sano says, she’s the most likely culprit. We can’t just let her loose as if nothing happened.”

“I’ll keep her under guard at home,” Sano said quickly.

“Fine,” the shogun said before Lord Matsudaira could speak. “Go. You’re dismissed.”

Sano bowed. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”

“But if you fail to catch the killer—or if I find out that you and your wife are guilty—be assured that I’ll show you no mercy,” Lord Matsudaira warned Sano. He turned to Hirata. “Nor you either.”

As Sano and Hirata walked out of the room, they passed Hoshina, who muttered, “Good luck, Chamberlain Sano. By the way, I hear that Lady Reiko is pregnant. It’s too bad that when you’re both executed, your new child will die, too.”

11

Sano returned to his compound with Hirata and their detectives. It was a warm, cloudy, dreary evening. Smoke from cooking fires hung in a pall over Edo Castle, which reeked of decay and brimming drains. A hush and pressure swelled the air, as if it were gathering breath for another storm. Sano received silent, respectful bows from the sentries stationed at the gates: Bad news traveled fast.

At the door of the mansion, Reiko greeted him. “What happened?” Her face was pale and wan, strained with anxiety.

“I’m glad to say that you won’t be arrested for Lord Mori’s murder,” Sano said as he and Hirata removed their shoes and swords in the entryway.

Reiko looked relieved for an instant before she read on Sano’s face that there was more to the story, and none of it good. “But… ?”

“Let’s sit down,” Sano said.

She allowed Sano and Hirata to escort her to the private chambers. Her steps were heavy, burdened by fear as well as her unborn child. As they knelt, Sano thought she’d never looked so small or vulnerable.

“The shogun has allowed you to stay home, in my custody, instead of going to jail.” Sano wished he could shield her from the worst news, but he couldn’t withhold it from her. “But Lord Matsudaira and Police Commissioner Hoshina are too ready to accept that you killed Lord Mori.”

“But I didn’t! How can they even think it?” Reiko said, aghast. “Didn’t you tell them what really happened?”

“I told them what you said, but unfortunately, there are other, conflicting versions of events.”

As Sano related Lady Mori’s story, Reiko crumpled, her eyes wide with shock, her hands over her mouth. She shook her head in disbelief until he was done. Then she dropped her hands and bunched them into fists.

“Lady Mori is lying!” Anger burned away her fright. “I never even met Lord Mori.” Her distraught gaze searched Sano’s face. “Surely you don’t believe her instead of me. You can’t think that I… ?”

“Of course not.” Yet even as Sano spoke, his years as a detective pressured him to remain objective, to postpone judgment until he had more evidence, just as he would during any other case.

She must have sensed his reservations, for hurt crept across her gaze, like fissures through crystal. “Lady Mori didn’t see me do any of those things with her husband because I didn’t. I told you the truth this morning.” She clasped her hands over her belly and spoke with passionate emphasis: “This is your child, not his.”

Sano avoided thinking otherwise. He was disturbed that his ingrained habit of doubting the veracity of crime suspects hadn’t gone away just because this one happened to be his wife. Even worse, he sensed Reiko hadn’t told him everything.

“Can you think of any reason why Lady Mori would incriminate you?” he asked.

“No. I thought she thought I was her friend.” Sudden inspiration altered Reiko’s expression. “Unless she found out I was investigating her husband for kidnapping and murdering boys. But I don’t see how she could have.”

“She might have been aware of your private inquiries and assumed that whatever you were doing would be detrimental to her,” Sano pointed out.

Reiko nodded unhappily. “For all the good my investigation did, I wish I’d never undertaken it. I’m sorry I did.”

“So am I,” Sano admitted, “but it’s too late for that.”

“We have other problems besides Lady Mori.” Hirata sounded as if he were reluctant to bring them up but wanted to spare Sano from delivering more bad news. “She’s not the only witness who testified against you.”

“And I’m sorry to say that you’re not the only one in trouble now.” Sano described the seance.

Reiko reacted with a fit of laughter that verged on hysterics. “But that’s an even bigger lie than Lady Mori’s story! You know you never sent me to enlist Lord Mori in a secret campaign to take over the country, or to punish him for foiling you! That medium is a fraud. You’re not plotting against Lord Matsudaira.”

Yet as she spoke this last sentence, Sano heard a tinge of uncertainty in her voice; he saw a question in her eyes. He realized that now
she
had suspicions about
him.
Her experience with detective work had made her just as leery as he. And if he didn’t know how she occupied herself while they were apart, neither did she know what he did.

“Of course I’m not,” Sano said, appalled that today’s events had shaken their trust in each other.

“We know you’re loyal to the shogun,” Hirata said.

But even while he stood up for Sano, doubt showed on his face. Sano was further troubled to see that Hirata didn’t quite trust him now, either. They’d spent so much time going their separate ways that Hirata thought he’d changed for the worse.

“We’d better believe one another,” Sano said grimly, “because if we don’t, why should anyone else think we’re telling the truth?”

They avoided eye contact, sharing the dismay that the murder case had driven a wedge between them at a time when they most needed the strength of unity.

“Police Commissioner Hoshina has done his best to convince Lord Matsudaira and the shogun we’re lying,” Hirata told Reiko. “So far they’re leaning in that direction.”

“What are we going to do?” Reiko’s gaze beseeched Hirata and Sano.

“I’ve managed to persuade Lord Matsudaira and the shogun to let me investigate the murder,” Sano said. “That’s progress in our favor. But the only thing that will save us is the truth about the murder. We have to concentrate on figuring out what really happened.”

Hirata said, “What really happened is that Lady Reiko was set up to look as if she killed Lord Mori, I was set up to find her, and you were set up to look like a traitor.”

Sano nodded: That was credible to him, if not to his superiors.

“Who could be responsible for the whole thing?” Reiko said.

“Hoshina is the obvious suspect. But he’s only one of many people who wouldn’t mind for me to take a fall.” Sano knew the danger of fixating on a single suspect, no matter how likely. “And even though I’m inclined to think that I’m the main target of this plot, it’s possible I’m not. Have you made any enemies who would want to hurt you?”

Reiko pondered. “Maybe.”

“Well, think of any names you can,” Sano said.

“I’ll have lots of time to think, since I’m supposed to stay home and I can’t go outside,” Reiko said. “I wish I could do something more to help you save us.”

“Maybe you can,” Sano said. “Is there anything else you’ve remembered about what happened at the Mori estate last night? Anything you didn’t tell me this morning?”

“No. I’ve spent the day going over and over it all, but I can’t remember anything else.”

“If you do later, be sure to tell me.” Sano tried to forget that suspects often withheld information that would compromise them. He tried to rely on his trust in his wife rather than his experiences that had taught him the worst about human nature. He said to Hirata, “We’d better start our inquiries.”

“What do you want me to do first?” Hirata asked.

“Look for witnesses and evidence to verify that things happened the way my wife said.”
Maybe Hirata will discover something she had omitted,
Sano thought.

“I’m on my way.”

“Before you leave the castle, send a detective to check Enju’s alibi.” Sano had a vague hunch about the strange young man. “I’ll work on refuting the statements against us. I think I’ll start with our new friend the medium.”

After Hirata left, Reiko leapt to her feet. “I can’t believe this is happening!” She paced the room as if locked in a cage. “And it keeps getting worse by the moment.”

“Don’t fret. We have to stay calm,” Sano said, although he felt as restless and harried as she did.

“Stay calm?” Reiko stared at him, incredulous. “How can I, when we’re both headed to the execution ground for murder and treason?” Wringing her hands, she paced faster. “If they kill me, they’ll kill the baby, too!”

The idea horrified Sano as much as it did her, and he remembered Hoshina’s threat, but he said, “Getting upset won’t help.” He rose, put his arms around her, and held her still. “We haven’t much time to solve the case, especially with Hoshina pushing Lord Matsudaira and the shogun to condemn us. We can’t afford to waste energy or let negative thoughts distract us.”

“Yes. You’re right.” Reiko breathed deeply in an effort to quiet herself.

Sano felt her shuddering. But she moved away and said, “You should go now.”

“Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” she said bravely.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Sano said with more confidence than he felt.

Her anxious gaze held his. “Will you come home soon and tell me what’s happening?”

“Yes,” Sano said. “Don’t worry.”

12

The Exile’s Tale

GENROKU YEAR 11, MONTH 2(MARCH 1698)

In the ocean far beyond Japan’s southeastern coast rose the penal colony of Hachijo Island. A full moon that resembled a bleached white skull rode the night sky above the tiny island’s two high, peaked volcanoes. Steep hillsides dense with semitropical vegetation sloped down to the coasts, where a ceaseless wind pounded waves against the rocky shoreline. Along a cove was a village of wooden huts with thatched roofs and gardens, surrounded by palm trees, windbreaks made of rocks, and tall grass overgrown with vines. Nearby, a small castle perched on a rise overlooking the sea. Its plaster walls shone white in the moonlight. A banner bearing the Tokugawa triple -hollyhock-leaf crest fluttered from a watch tower.