The Iris Fan (15 page)

Blotting the page she’d written, Lady Nobuko said, “I don’t believe Lord Ienobu is guilty of Yoshisato’s murder, either.”

“It’s in your interest not to.” Reiko heard her voice rise too high and break as she recalled how much of her family’s trouble was due to Lady Nobuko. The information that Lady Nobuko had withheld could have prevented Sano from being charged with Yoshisato’s murder. It might have prevented Reiko from losing the baby during her strenuous efforts to prove Sano’s innocence. She was flustered by anger as well as grief. “Lord Ienobu stands to inherit the dictatorship. You need his goodwill.” She had to breathe deeply and swallow a sob before she said, “Did he tell you to kill the shogun? What did he offer you in return?”

Lady Nobuko squinted at Reiko. “Do you really think I stabbed my husband as a favor to Lord Ienobu?”

“I’m beginning to.” Reiko thought the old woman was ruthless and heartless enough.

“And you came here to make me admit it?” Lady Nobuko chuckled. “Look at you! You’re so weak, you’re still crying over a baby that died four years ago. You couldn’t make a mouse squeal!”

Humiliated, Reiko couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

“There, there, it’s all right.” Lady Nobuko’s false sympathy was like sugar syrup mixed with lye. “I’m going to make things easy for you.” She picked up her jade signature seal and pressed the carved end into a red ink stick. “I’ve written out my statement.” She applied the seal to the paper, under her spiky writing, then handed the paper to Reiko.

Reiko read,
I did not stab the shogun. I was asleep in bed when it happened. My lady-in-waiting can vouch for me. I had no reason to want him dead. I am innocent.

“Take it to your husband. Then you can go home and have a good cry.”

Hating herself because that was what she wanted to do, insulted because Lady Nobuko thought Sano would be stupid enough to accept this statement, Reiko said, “Your lady-in-waiting would say anything you ordered.”

“Nevertheless, she is my witness.” Lady Nobuko radiated complacency. “
You
don’t have a witness to prove I wasn’t asleep when my husband was stabbed. Now get out.”

She was obviously not going to give Reiko any evidence against herself or Lord Ienobu. Reiko had failed. Longing to escape before she completely broke down, Reiko said, “First I’ll search your quarters.”

“You will not.” Bracing herself on the table, Lady Nobuko stood up. Her skeletal body leaned toward the distorted side of her angry face, as if the pain were an unbalancing weight.

“If you won’t let me, it must mean you have something to hide.” Reiko resorted to a threat that was stronger than her own power of persuasion. “My husband will tell the shogun.”

Lady Nobuko gave an exasperated, conceding sigh.

*   *   *

AT EDO CASTLE
, Sano on his horse, accompanied by Yoshisato and the gangsters on foot, marched up to the main gate. The sentries said to Sano, “You can come in. They can’t.”

“This is the shogun’s son,” Sano said.

The sentries laughed; they thought Sano was joking. Yoshisato said, “Bow down! Show some respect!” The sound of his voice choked off their laughter. They stared at him with shocked recognition.

“But—but you’re dead,” one said.

“Obviously not,” Yoshisato said.

The sentries fell over themselves in their rush to open the gate and spread the news. Sano dismounted and walked Yoshisato and the gangsters up the hill, through the stone-walled passages inside Edo Castle. An uproar followed them. Patrol guards shouted, “Yoshisato is back!” Curious faces peered from watchtowers. Running footsteps echoed as people flocked to see the shogun’s resurrected son. Officials poured out of their quarter, blocked the passage, and craned their necks.

Plowing through the crowd, Sano and Yoshisato hurried to deliver the news to the shogun before anyone else could. At the palace Sano rushed Yoshisato past the sentries and in through the door. “Wait outside,” Yoshisato called to his gangsters.

Sano and Yoshisato raced through corridors, past gawking officials and servants. Yoshisato strode into the shogun’s bedchamber, then Sano did. The shogun was asleep, his eyes closed in his pale, damp face. A soldier knelt near each side of the bed, the doctor at the end. Along the wall, Yanagisawa and Lord Ienobu sat with Captain Hosono between them. Everybody except the shogun looked up in surprise.

“Mind if I join you?” Yoshisato said.

The shogun’s eyelids fluttered. Everybody else stared at Yoshisato and reared up on their knees. Yanagisawa slumped forward. His right hand braced him against the floor. His left hand clutched his heart. Lord Ienobu’s eyes bulged.

“You weren’t expecting me, were you?” Yoshisato directed his question at Yanagisawa and Ienobu, who’d known all along that he was alive.

Mouth open, Yanagisawa wheezed. Lord Ienobu coiled into himself like a snake trying to hide under a rock. The shogun opened bloodshot, sunken eyes. He gasped, propped himself up on his elbow, and said in a voice filled with awe, “Yoshisato? My son?”

Yoshisato moved toward the shogun. “Yes, Honorable Father, it’s me.”

“Am I dreaming?” The shogun blenched with sudden fear; he raised his hand to stop Yoshisato. “Are you a ghost?”

“No, Honorable Father.” Yoshisato knelt and took the shogun’s hand in his. Sano had told him the shogun had measles, but he appeared unconcerned about catching it. “You can feel that I’m real.”

The shogun pressed his nose and mouth to Yoshisato’s hand as if to inhale Yoshisato, devour him. “You are! The gods have brought you back to life!” He sobbed in ecstasy, then convulsed with pain and moaned.

Lord Ienobu and Yanagisawa watched, dumbstruck. Yoshisato smiled, gratified by the drama he’d created. A woman burst into the room. She had disheveled, graying hair and a sallow complexion; her soiled gray kimono hung on her emaciated figure; she smelled stale, fetid. She cried, “I heard the news. I had to come and find out, is it true? Is Yoshisato alive?” Her hollow eyes spied Yoshisato. She screamed, pushed the shogun away, and flung herself on the young man, then caressed his face while she keened, “Yoshisato! Yoshisato!” and wept.

Yoshisato held her. “Mother.” His voice trembled; his eyes glistened.

It was a scene that Sano wouldn’t have missed for the world. It was a scene that nobody here would ever forget.

“Mother, I have business to discuss with these people.” Yoshisato had his emotions under control again. “Go home and wait for me.”

She stumbled out, weeping with joy. The bewildered shogun studied Yoshisato. “Where have you been all this time?” Noticing Yoshisato’s tattoos, he gasped. “Why are you so changed?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yoshisato said. “It’s time you learned the truth about my so-called death.”

As he told his story, Sano watched Yanagisawa and Lord Ienobu. Yanagisawa’s face darkened with anger as he heard how Yoshisato had been drugged, kidnapped, and imprisoned. Ienobu’s protuberant eyes skittered, chasing frantic thoughts.

“He let everyone think I was dead.” Yoshisato pointed at Lord Ienobu. “He wanted me out of the way so that he could be the next shogun.”

The shogun collapsed back on the bed. His horrified stare turned on Ienobu. “Is this true, Nephew?”

“It certainly is not.” Ienobu regained his haughty poise. His eyes were steady now, brimming with scorn. “Yoshisato is lying.”

“Of course you would deny it, to save your own ugly skin,” Yoshisato retorted.

Waving his frail hand to interrupt the argument, the shogun said to Ienobu, “If he’s lying, then how do
you
account for the extra corpse in the fire? How do
you
explain the fact that my son is alive?”

“The corpse must have been a servant who was in the heir’s residence when the fire started. Yoshisato is responsible for his own absence. He didn’t want to be the next dictator. He has no stomach for politics.” Ienobu’s contemptuous glance called Yoshisato a coward. “When the fire started, he saw his chance. He ran away.”

Yoshisato uttered a shout of disdainful laughter. The shogun demanded, “If Yoshisato doesn’t want to inherit the regime, then why did he come back?”

Perspiration beaded Ienobu’s forehead, but he sat his ground. “Because starting a new life isn’t easy. He decided that being shogun would be nicer than being a gangster.”

“I have to admire you, Lord Ienobu—you think fast on your feet,” Yoshisato said with a pitying smile. “But I have a witness to prove I’m telling the truth.” He looked to Yanagisawa.

*   *   *

YANAGISAWA STILL COULDN’T
believe that after he’d searched for Yoshisato for so long, Yoshisato had just strolled into the palace. He felt as if the sun had come out after an endless night. Yoshisato glowed so dazzlingly that Yanagisawa could barely see the other people in the room. Even Sano, the blight on his existence, was a mere shadow. Yanagisawa wanted to feast on the sight of Yoshisato, but if he looked directly at him, he would break down and blubber; his heart overflowed with so much love for Yoshisato, so much joy.

How he regretted that they’d parted on bad terms! He’d let Yoshisato go away thinking he was nothing to Yanagisawa except a political pawn. Now Yanagisawa could tell Yoshisato how he felt. But not yet. Later he could marvel at Yoshisato’s miraculous return. Later he would find out what in the world Yoshisato and Sano were doing together. This was his long-awaited chance to send Lord Ienobu to hell.

Engorged with vengefulness, Yanagisawa rose. Ienobu looked like a snake cornered by a man with an axe. “A few days after the fire, you came to me and told me Yoshisato was alive.” Yanagisawa’s voice was clear, resonant, and loud with the anger that had reopened the airway constricted by shock. “You showed me the letter you made him write to me.”

He felt a sensation like a tight iron band around his chest snapping loose. “My silence and cooperation were the price you put on Yoshisato’s life.” To speak freely again was an exhilarating relief. “You said that unless I helped you become the next shogun, you would kill Yoshisato. But now I don’t have to do any more of your dirty work. I don’t have to keep quiet.” Yanagisawa told the shogun, “Lord Ienobu duped you. He tried to take over the regime by kidnapping your son and holding him hostage. He’s a traitor! He should be put to death!”

Anger encroached on the confusion on the shogun’s face. Yanagisawa had planted a seed of suspicion in him, and it had taken root.

Lord Ienobu stood up on his rickety legs. “Yanagisawa-
san
is lying! There was no letter, no such conversation. Here’s what really happened, Uncle: After the fire,
he
came to
me.
He was terrified that with Yoshisato dead, he would lose his position at court. He begged me to let him work for me so that he wouldn’t become a
r
ō
nin
and starve!”

“Look at him,” Yanagisawa jeered. “See him shaking. Do you want to know why he’s so afraid?”

The shogun nodded, rapt with attention. Here Yanagisawa had the advantage over Lord Ienobu: Yanagisawa had controlled the shogun for almost three decades; the shogun had been under Ienobu’s influence for a fraction of that time. The shogun raised a hand to prevent Ienobu from speaking. Now Yanagisawa had to make the most of his advantage. There had never been a situation like this; it was an unfamiliar battleground in fast-moving flux. All his instincts, honed by a lifetime in politics, told Yanagisawa that persuading the shogun that Ienobu had kidnapped Yoshisato wouldn’t carry the day. The shogun had limited concern for other people. Yanagisawa had to exploit the shogun’s selfishness in order to stick it to Lord Ienobu.

“Lord Ienobu is afraid because what’s happened today proves he’s responsible for the attack on Your Excellency,” Yanagisawa said. “He knew that Yoshisato was alive and on the loose and if Yoshisato returned to court, he would take back his place as your heir. There were two ways for Lord Ienobu to prevent that. He had to find Yoshisato and kill him—or to make sure you died and he became shogun before Yoshisato showed up.” Yanagisawa held up his thumb, then his forefinger. “But he couldn’t find Yoshisato.” Yanagisawa folded down his thumb. “So he chose option number two.” He pointed his forefinger at Ienobu, who was jittering so hard that the floor shook. “He sent an assassin to murder you, Your Excellency.”

The shogun sat up, panting. “Yanagisawa-
san
is right!” His red, tearful eyes blazed at Ienobu. “You tried to have me killed so that you could rule Japan!”

Yanagisawa tasted victory coming, so sweet after years of humiliation from Ienobu.

“I didn’t!” Terrified, Ienobu extended his clasped hands to the shogun. “Please, Uncle, believe me!”

To cap his argument, Yanagisawa said, “If the assassin had succeeded, you would be dead now, Your Excellency. Ienobu would be shogun. And if your son ever surfaced, Ienobu would slaughter him like a lamb.”

“Traitor!” the shogun screamed at Ienobu. Spasms gripped him; he moaned. “I want your head on a post by the Nihonbashi Bridge!”

“I swear on my life, I’m innocent!” Ienobu bleated.

Sano stepped forward. “Pardon me, Your Excellency, but even though Lord Ienobu’s motive for the attack on you looks stronger in light of these new circumstances, there’s still no evidence against him. There are other suspects.”

“He’s right!” Ienobu gasped with relief that someone was taking his side. “Let him finish his investigation. It will prove that someone else is guilty!”

The angry determination on the shogun’s face wavered.
A curse on that bastard, Sano!
Yanagisawa thought. He wouldn’t let Sano redirect the tide that was finally flowing in the direction he wanted. “Sano-
san
is right,” he said. Sano frowned in surprise at his capitulation. “We don’t know for sure who stabbed Your Excellency, but one thing is certain: Yoshisato is back.” He felt the warmth of Yoshisato’s dazzling light. “Yoshisato was your first choice for an heir. Lord Ienobu was only a poor second. You should rename Yoshisato as your heir.”