The Fire Kimono (11 page)

Tea was offered, politely refused then accepted, and served. Lady Ateki addressed Sano: “Did His Excellency the shogun Tokugawa Ietsuna send you?” Her quiet voice sounded like paper crumpling. The wrinkles in her face drooped downward, giving her a permanently mournful expression.

“No,” Sano said. “Unfortunately, he’s been dead twenty years. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi is shogun now.”

“Dear me, how time rushes by.” Lady Ateki sighed. “Who did they say you were, young man? Chamberlain Yanagisawa?”

“No, Mother.” Impatience tinged Oigimi’s voice. She was in her fifties. Thick white rice powder covered gaunt, plain features on the side of her face that Sano could see. “His name is Sano. You’re thinking of his predecessor.”

At least Yanagisawa had held office more recently than the past shogun, Sano thought. But if Lady Ateki was this confused, the interview was off to a bad start.

“Oh. Very well,” Lady Ateki said. “What brings you here, Chamberlain Sano?”

Sano now faced a task more difficult than coping with an old woman’s foggy memory. He had to break disturbing news. “It’s about your son Tadatoshi.”

Alert and trembling, she leaned toward Sano, one hand on her heart, the other outstretched to him. “Has he been found?”

She had clearly never given up hope that Tadatoshi was alive. Sano hated to disappoint her. He glanced at her daughter, to see how she’d reacted to the mention of Tadatoshi, and did a double take.

Oigimi had turned slightly in his direction. The left side of her face was twisted, seamed, and paralyzed with scar tissue under her makeup. Her lips formed a half grimace. Her left eye was a dead gray orb. Sano realized that she was a living casualty of the Great Fire.

Consternation showed on the intact right side of her face. Whether it was in response to news about her brother or because she’d seen Sano’s instinctive revulsion to the ravages of the fire, Sano couldn’t tell. She quickly turned away, pulling the scarf over the wreckage.

“I’m sorry to say it was Tadatoshi’s remains that were found,” Sano said. “He died not long after he disappeared.”

“Oh.” Lady Ateki’s animation faded. “I suppose it was foolish to believe Tadatoshi could still be alive. I suppose I’ve known all along that he was dead.”

“Of course he’s dead, Mother.” Oigimi’s voice sounded unnecessarily harsh. “If he weren’t, he’d have come back by now.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Lady Ateki said, and Sano didn’t miss the frostiness of her tone. Oigimi might be her loyal protector, but their relationship wasn’t all peace and harmony. She turned to Sano. “How was Tadatoshi found?”

Sano explained about the storm near the shrine, the fallen tree, the grave exposed.

“How on earth did he get there?” she said, bewildered.

“Not by himself, obviously,” Oigimi said. “What Chamberlain Sano is trying to say is that Tadatoshi was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Lady Ateki gaped at Sano. Her hands flew to her face. Her fingers trailed down her cheeks, pulling them farther downward. “But who would kill my son?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. I’m investigating his murder, on behalf of the shogun.”

Oigimi said, “Forgive my presumption, but I’d have thought the shogun had more important things to do than bother about Tadatoshi.” She had the traditional outspokenness of older women, despite her disfigurement. “Whatever happened to him happened long ago.” She eyed Sano suspiciously. “Have you a personal interest in this, may I ask?”

Sano felt he owed these women honesty. “Yes. My mother has been accused of kidnapping and killing Tadatoshi.”

Lady Ateki looked too dazed to speak. Oigimi threw Sano a sidelong, puzzled glance and said, “Who is your mother?”

“Her name is Etsuko,” Sano said. “She was a lady-in-waiting to your mother. Do you remember her?”

Recognition dawned on Lady Ateki’s face. “Oh! That pretty young girl.” She smiled. “I was very fond of her.”

“You’re Etsuko’s son?” Oigimi said in surprise.

“I always wondered what became of Etsuko,” Lady Ateki said. “She left us very suddenly.”

Sano saw a chance to fill in some of the gaps in his mother’s story. “When did she leave?”

“It was soon after the Great Fire,” Lady Ateki said.

“What was the reason?” Sano asked.

Lady Ateki squinted in an effort to bring the past into focus. “All I remember is that she went home to live with her parents.”

Her parents-the grandparents Sano had never met. She’d told him they’d died in the fire.

“I was sad but willing to let her go,” Lady Ateki said. “My husband was dead, his estate had burned down. Some relatives took me in. We lived in their summer villa in the hills, very crowded. There wouldn’t have been room for Etsuko.”

“I never knew why she went,” Oigimi said, “but I had other things to worry about at the time.” Sano interpreted the bitterness in her voice to mean she’d been suffering from the burns, which must have been painful.

Yet another mystery had arisen for Sano to solve. “Did you ever hear from Etsuko again?” he asked Lady Ateki.

“No, I didn’t.”

“It was as if she’d vanished off the earth,” Oigimi said.

Was it a coincidence that she’d vanished from their lives shortly after Tadatoshi had? Uneasiness crept through Sano. How had his mother spent the months after she’d left them and before she’d married his father? He wondered whether she would tell him if he asked. “Did you have any suspicion that she was involved in Tadatoshi’s disappearance?”

“None at all.” Oigimi sounded incredulous at the idea. “I thought he’d died in the fire.”

“Dear me, of course not,” Lady Ateki said. “Etsuko was a good girl. She could never have hurt anyone.”

“I agree.” Oigimi thought a moment, then said, “May I ask who accused Etsuko?”

“It was Doi Naokatsu,” Sano said.

“This is certainly a day for names from the past,” Lady Ateki said. “I remember Doi. He was my son’s bodyguard.”

“He was also Etsuko’s fiance,” said Oigimi. “I always wondered why they never married.”

Ignoring her hint for information he didn’t have, Sano said, “Have you any idea why he would accuse her?”

“None.”

“I remember how upset Doi was after Tadatoshi disappeared,” Lady Ateki said. “He fell on his knees and apologized to me for not being able to find him. He cried and begged my forgiveness. He was ready to commit seppuku.”

Too bad he hadn’t, Sano thought. Doi’s ritual suicide would have saved a lot of trouble.

“But I was sure Tadatoshi was alive,” Lady Ateki said. “I told Doi that he must be ready to serve him when he came back.”

Sano wondered if Doi’s behavior meant he’d felt guilty about more than failing in his duty. “Do you think Doi could have killed Tadatoshi?”

Lady Ateki exclaimed, “Oh, no. He was devoted to my son.”

“The idea of him kidnapping my brother is ridiculous,” Oigimi said. “But so is the idea that Etsuko did, and not just because she was too good. Tadatoshi wasn’t a baby who could have been easily carried off and killed. He was strong enough to put up a fight. How does Doi say that Etsuko managed to kidnap him?”

“He says she had help,” Sano said, “from Tadatoshi’s tutor.”

The women sat motionless, stunned by this news on top of the rest. At last Lady Ateki said, “I suppose Tadatoshi did have a tutor. Who was he?”

“That monk,” Oigimi said impatiently. “His name was Egen.”

“Oh. Oh, yes, I remember now.”

“I didn’t know him at all, but he must have been a decent person or my father wouldn’t have hired him,” Oigimi told Sano. “Have you asked him if he did it?”

“Not yet,” Sano said. “I’m looking for him. Do you know where he is?”

Lady Ateki shook her head. Oigimi said, “We haven’t seen him in all these years. He left after the fire.”

Perhaps not just because he’d lost his pupil, Sano thought. Maybe Egen had been involved in a kidnapping gone bad. Sano hoped Hirata was making progress toward finding him. For now, Sano needed suspects closer at hand. “Do you know of anyone who would have wanted Tadatoshi dead?”

Mother turned to daughter. Sano saw astonishment in both their profiles. Lady Ateki said, “Could it be?” Oigimi said, “Of course. We should have suspected him ages ago.”

“Who?” Sano said.

“Tokugawa Nobunaga.” Lady Ateki explained, “He was my husband’s brother.”

“Why might he have killed Tadatoshi?” Sano said.

“He wanted his son to be shogun,” Oigimi said. “Tadatoshi was ahead of his son in the line of succession. With Tadatoshi gone, his son moved up a step.”

Political ambition had led to many murders, but Sano saw cause for doubt in this case. “Tadatoshi was far down the line. Getting rid of him wouldn’t have moved his cousin much closer to the front.”

“My husband and his brother had been rivals since childhood,” Lady Ateki said. “His brother was very jealous. He couldn’t bear to have my husband ahead of him in anything.”

“And we once saw him almost kill Tadatoshi,” Oigimi said.

“When was this?” Sano said, intrigued.

“Tadatoshi must have been about twelve years old,” Lady Ateki said. “It happened at our archery range. My brother-in-law shot an arrow. It hit the wall right beside Tadatoshi. And he wasn’t standing anywhere near the targets.”

“My uncle said it was an accident,” Oigimi said scornfully.

“After that, my husband kept our son away from his brother,” Lady Ateki said, “but he couldn’t watch Tadatoshi all the time.”

Especially when Tadatoshi wandered off, Sano thought. Maybe, on the day of his death, he’d had the bad luck to meet up with his jealous, homicidal uncle. “Where was your brother-in-law when Tadatoshi disappeared?”

“I don’t know,” Lady Ateki said. “I suppose I was too upset to care. My husband and so many other people had died in the fire. My son was missing, and I had to take care of my daughter.”

“Later, I heard Uncle talk about what he did during the fire,” Oigimi said. “He and his retainers and servants put wet quilts on the roof of his house, to protect it from the fire. It burned down anyway. They barely managed to get to the hills before the fire blocked the roads.”

He could have happened onto Tadatoshi near the shrine and seen an opportunity sent from heaven. “Where is he now?” Sano asked.

“He’s been dead more than ten years,” Oigimi said.

“And his son?”

“He died last year.”

“Can you think of anyone else who might have killed Tadatoshi?” Sano asked.

Neither woman could. Sano thanked them for their cooperation and rose. Lady Ateki said, “Many thanks for telling me about my son, Honorable Chamberlain. At least I can stop wondering what happened to him. I hope you find his murderer.”

“I’ll do my best,” Sano promised.

He joined Marume, Fukida, and his entourage outside the mansion. “Anything good?” Marume asked.

As they mounted their horses and rode away, Sano related what the women had told him. “Two witnesses to my mother’s good character and a new suspect. Not bad for one interview.”

“It would be better if Tadatoshi’s uncle were still alive,” Fukida said, “but his death doesn’t let him off the hook.”

“We can’t have everything,” Sano said. His mood had brightened; for the first time since his mother’s arrest, things were looking up. “And my favorite suspect is still alive.”

“Shall we pay Colonel Doi a visit?” Fukida said.

“There’s not much point,” Sano said. “What would he say except to deny he’s guilty and heap more slander on my mother? I have a better source of information about him. And I’ve just had an idea that I want to follow up, at home.”

Reiko sat in the room across the hall from the guest chamber. She waited until she saw Hana come out of the chamber and scurry down the passage, leaving Sano’s mother alone. Then Reiko picked up a tray that held a dish of pink cakes filled with sweet chestnut paste, her own favorite treat. She crossed the hall, quietly opened the door to the chamber, and entered.

Her mother-in-law was lying in bed, but when she noticed Reiko, she sat up. She awkwardly smoothed her rumpled gray hair and cotton robe. Her face showed alarm.

“Excuse me for disturbing you, Honorable Mother-in-law.” Reiko knelt and bowed. “I wanted to see how you are.”

“Much better, thank you,” the old woman murmured, her eyes downcast, avoiding Reiko’s gaze.

“I’m relieved to hear that.”

Reiko covertly studied her mother-in-law. In the light of what Sano had told her, she’d expected Etsuko to look different, to have gained stature befitting her samurai heritage. But Etsuko looked as ordinary as ever, although far from well. The only change was Etsuko’s manner toward Reiko. Usually timid, it now resonated with fright.

Wondering why, seeking to put Etsuko at ease, Reiko said, “I brought you some cakes,” and set the tray beside the bed.

“Thank you. You’re very kind. I’m sorry to impose on you.” Meek and contrite, Etsuko didn’t touch the food. She waited a moment, as if for Reiko to leave. When Reiko stayed put, she said, “You needn’t bother yourself with me. I’m sure you have more important things to do…?”

Reiko understood that her mother-in-law wanted to get rid of her, but she didn’t take the hint. “It’s no bother. I’m glad to have you with us.”