The Iris Fan (20 page)

Yanagisawa knelt beside the shogun. “Your Excellency?”

The shogun opened sunken, crusted eyes in a gray face. He’d declined since morning. A different smell tainted the air—the smell of decay.

“Good news,” Yanagisawa said. “The person who stabbed you has been arrested.”

Interest animated the shogun’s groggy expression. “Who is it?” His voice was a croak.

“It’s Madam Chizuru, the
otoshiyori
. She confessed.”

Sano stepped forward. “It’s not certain she’s guilty. Her confession—”

The shogun spoke over him. “Why did she do it?”

“Excuse me, Your Excellency,” Sano said, “but her confession is extremely dubious.”

“Because Lord Ienobu told her to,” Yanagisawa said. “He wanted you dead so that he could be shogun. He sent Madam Chizuru to assassinate you.”

“Merciful gods, it’s true.” The shogun’s face turned grayer. “My nephew is responsible.”

“She couldn’t tell me how many times you were stabbed,” Sano said. “She couldn’t describe the fan.”

Detective Marume whispered, “Sano-
san
, for the love of all of us, be quiet.” Masahiro whispered, “Father, please.” Yoshisato observed the spectacle with dawning distrust.

Sano was well aware that he was arguing against his own interests, but his hunger for justice had become so entrenched. He was too stubborn to change, or too old. “I think it’s because she doesn’t know. She may be innocent, and so may Lord Ienobu.”

“Yesterday you were ready enough to believe that Ienobu was responsible for the attack.” Yanagisawa gave Sano a look that reminded him of their pact, threatening him with mayhem if he didn’t cooperate.

The opium spread blankness across the shogun’s expression. Yanagisawa hurried to press his case. “It’s for Your Excellency to decide. Madam Chizuru confessed. Either she’s guilty and she’ll be punished, or she’s not and you may never get revenge on the person who stabbed you.”

“Those aren’t the only outcomes,” Sano said, sick and tired of Yanagisawa’s fast talk. “If Your Excellency accepts her confession without letting me verify it, you could be condemning innocent people while letting the real assassin go free.”

The shogun’s gaze moved back and forth between Sano and Yanagisawa, his eyes skittering like pebbles in their hollow sockets. “Nobody in her right mind would confess if she were innocent. She must be guilty.” He moaned at a spasm of pain.

He was impatient to know his attacker’s identity; delay was a luxury that a man gravely injured couldn’t afford. It was Sano’s duty now, more than ever, to give the shogun what he wanted. Vengeance might be the shogun’s last wish—a solemn demand that Sano couldn’t refuse to fulfill. It came down to a choice between his lord versus Madam Chizuru and Lord Ienobu.

That was no choice.

But although Sano still disbelieved the confession, he must give it the benefit of the doubt. “Let’s hear what Lord Ienobu has to say for himself.”

“Find him. Bring him here,” Yanagisawa told Lieutenant Haneda. “Don’t tell him why.”

Soon Haneda and his troops brought in Lord Ienobu, accompanied by Manabe. Excitement flushed Ienobu’s usually sallow complexion. His lips stretched over his big teeth in a grin. “You sent for me just in time, Uncle.” He obviously thought the shogun meant to take him back into his favor. “I was ready to vacate the heir’s residence. Now I won’t have to—”

He noticed Yanagisawa and Yoshisato. Yanagisawa smiled a wolfish smile at him. Yoshisato’s straight face was equally malevolent. Ienobu looked around the room and saw Sano, Marume, and Masahiro. Alarm inverted his grin. “What’s going on here?”

Sano almost felt sorry for Ienobu. “I’ve found evidence that you conspired to assassinate the shogun.”

“You’re under arrest,” Yanagisawa said in a tone vibrant with glee.

“What are you talking about?” Lord Ienobu demanded.

Yoshisato spoke in a cold voice as sharp as the needles that had etched the tattoos on his skin. “Your accomplice betrayed you.”

“What accomplice?”

“Oh, spare me the innocent act,” Yanagisawa said. “You know it’s Madam Chizuru.”

Sano wasn’t so sure Ienobu was acting. He seemed genuinely flabbergasted. Then again, Ienobu’s talents had surprised Sano in the past.

“Madam Chizuru?” Ienobu’s eyes bulged as he realized that the connection between him and his spy in the Large Interior was an open secret.

“She confessed that she stabbed the shogun and you told her to do it,” Yoshisato said.

Ienobu sputtered. “She’s lying! I never told her any such thing!”

“I believe her,” the shogun said weakly through a fog of opium, fever, and pain. “You tried to have me assassinated! You, my own nephew!”

“Uncle, I swear on my honor I didn’t!” Ienobu said.

With a strength born of anger, the shogun lifted his head from his pillow. “You have no honor! You flattered me and pretended to love me so that I trusted you. And then you betrayed my trust.” The pain constricted his voice. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

Ienobu turned on Sano. “You made Madam Chizuru incriminate me!”

Stung by the accusation and the insult to his honor, Sano was forced to defend the confession. “I didn’t make her. She confessed voluntarily.”

“That’s right,” Yanagisawa said. “There are plenty of witnesses.”

“Uncle, this is a trick! They’re all in league against me! They’ve set me up to take the fall so that he can inherit the dictatorship!” Ienobu pointed his bony finger at Yoshisato.

“
You’re
trying to trick
me!
” The shogun’s voice was shrill with fury. “Haven’t you hurt me enough already?” He sobbed and moaned. “Can’t you at least be honest?”

“I didn’t tell Madam Chizuru to kill you. She’s lying!” Ienobu was too distraught to think up a better defense than denying his guilt. “I’m being framed!”

Doubts about Madam Chizuru’s confession, suspicion about Yanagisawa’s possible role in it, and the passion in Ienobu’s manner nudged Sano toward deciding, against his wishes, that Ienobu really was innocent.

“Lord Ienobu would say the sky was green if he thought it would save his ugly skin,” Yanagisawa said.

“Lord Ienobu had your daughter killed. He had me kidnapped,” Yoshisato reminded the shogun. “You were the last remaining obstacle between him and the dictatorship.”

Easily persuaded while in his miserable state, anxious to believe the person responsible for it had been unmasked, the shogun said, “He’s right! You never cared about me. All you wanted was my position. Well, I won’t let you have it. Take him away! Put him to death!”

“Wait!” Ienobu turned to Sano, the man he’d tormented for more than four years, now his only ally among the company. “Tell my uncle he’s wrong! Make him understand!”

Sano was sorely tempted to let matters take their course. Masahiro put his finger to his lips, and Marume waved his hands, urging Sano to give Ienobu up, but Sano couldn’t stand by while a possibly innocent man was framed. “Your Excellency, suppose you put Lord Ienobu to death. If something happens to Yoshisato, who will inherit the regime?”

The shogun was dumbstruck by this new concern. He’d apparently forgotten that Lord Yoshimune was third in a long line of relatives eligible for the succession.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” Yoshisato said quickly; he’d perceived Sano’s intention.

“Surely my son won’t die before I do,” the shogun protested feebly. “Look at me.”

“He’s already been kidnapped,” Sano reminded them.

Yanagisawa had caught on, too; he hurried to head Sano off. “That was Lord Ienobu’s doing, Your Excellency. All the more reason to get rid of him—so that Yoshisato will be safe.”

“Safe from man-made danger, perhaps,” Sano said, “but he could be killed by a disease or an earthquake, and then who will be your heir, with your nephew gone?”

The shogun paled with consternation. “Why, I, ahh, haven’t had time to think about it.”

“You should think about it.” Sano spoke bluntly; he had no time for tact. “You need Lord Ienobu.”

Ienobu scowled, insulted because Sano had styled him as nothing but a backup for the shogun’s preferred choice of an heir, but he knew better than to deride the hole-ridden logic that Sano was weaving like a net to catch him as he fell.

“Your Excellency doesn’t need the man who tried to have you assassinated.” Yanagisawa brought the subject back to Ienobu’s alleged guilt. Furious and exasperated, he said, “This discussion is so far off the point!”

Sano was only borrowing a page from Yanagisawa’s book: Yanagisawa would steer a discussion to the far ends of the earth to achieve a desired aim. “The point is, Your Excellency has a choice.” He talked fast and loud before Yanagisawa or Yoshisato could get a word in. “Decide who should be your alternate heir or have the decision made for you later.”

The shogun groaned as if his wounded gut were a rope in a tug-of-war. “Merciful gods, I’m too ill to think about it.”

“But you could delay Lord Ienobu’s death until I find out whether Madam Chizuru’s confession is true,” Sano said, “and if it’s not, then you’ll be glad you waited.”

“Those aren’t the only choices!” Yanagisawa protested.

“I only ask Your Excellency to delay it for one day.” Sano knew this was an impossibly short time. He hoped it was enough for him to verify or disprove the confession.

“Very well,” the shogun said. “One day. I may not have much longer.”

Yanagisawa said, “But Your Excellency,” and Yoshisato began, “Honorable Father,” as the shogun convulsed in dry heaves. “I can’t bear any more talk!” He begged the doctor, “Merciful gods, give me some more opium, I’m in agony!”

Lord Ienobu scrambled for the door, followed by Manabe, before the shogun could change his mind. He gave Sano a grudging look that said,
I owe you.

Outside the chamber, Yanagisawa said to Sano, “Knock down that confession and we’ll see each other in hell.” As he and Yoshisato walked away together, Yoshisato flung Sano a backward, enigmatic glance.

Masahiro stalked off, his expression stormy, without a word. Marume opened his mouth. Sano said ruefully, “Don’t say it. I know.”

21

“I STILL THINK
you should have let it go,” Masahiro said.

“I still stand by my decision,” Sano said.

“It was wrong! You threw away our chance to get rid of him for good!”

Reiko heard them arguing as they came in the door. Masahiro sounded defiant, so unlike when he’d been a little boy, when he’d worshiped the father he’d thought could do no wrong. She hurried to meet them in the passage. Masahiro looked furious, Sano exhausted. She said, “Are you arguing about Yoshisato?”

“So you know he’s alive,” Sano said.

“You said to tell her. I told her,” Masahiro said.

“How can it be? Don’t keep me wondering,” Reiko begged. When Sano explained about the anonymous letter, she was stunned and furious. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning?”

“You wanted me to quit investigating Yoshisato’s murder. I knew you’d be upset.”

“Didn’t you think I would be upset when I found out you kept another secret from me?”

Sano rubbed his tired face. “I’m sorry. I thought the letter was another false tip. Seeing Yoshisato was the biggest shock of my life.”

“So you brought him to the castle,” Masahiro said with disgust. “You gave the shogun back his ‘son’ and Yanagisawa back his chance to rule Japan. Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Don’t speak to your father in that tone of voice!” But Reiko herself didn’t like what Sano had done. “Why did you bring Yoshisato to the shogun?”

Vexed at both his wife and son, Sano flung up his hands. “What was I supposed to do? Tell Yoshisato, ‘Go back to being dead,’ and walk away?”

“You should have killed him,” Masahiro said. “He’s a fraud. He deserves to die.”

“Masahiro!” He was right, but Reiko was disturbed by Masahiro’s readiness to shed blood.

“I don’t murder people for my own convenience,” Sano said in a low, tight voice.

“Then you should have let me,” Masahiro said.

Although glad that she and Masahiro were in agreement that Yoshisato’s return was a bad thing, Reiko didn’t like her son taking sides against his father. It was sad as well as a violation of filial piety, and another rift within their family.

“I’ve finally found out the truth about Yoshisato’s ‘murder.’” Sano explained that Lord Ienobu had had Yoshisato kidnapped and held hostage and Yoshisato had escaped and had become a gangster boss. Reiko listened in amazement. “So it wasn’t what I expected—still, I had to tell the shogun. He thinks Yoshisato is his child. If your child that you thought was dead was really alive, wouldn’t you deserve to be told?”

Reiko felt as if he’d slapped her. Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away to hide them. If only her baby could be resurrected; if only someone would come and tell her he was alive! That Sano would make his point with such an insensitive remark! It showed that he didn’t care about the baby or her feelings and he didn’t love her anymore.

He started to say something, but she wouldn’t let him rub in the fact that he’d won this round of the argument. She spoke lightly, so as not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his insensitivity hurt. “There is a bright side to Yoshisato coming back. He’s trouble for Lord Ienobu.”

“Not enough trouble,” Masahiro said. “He’s knocked Lord Ienobu out of line for the succession—again. The shogun has renamed Yoshisato as his heir.” He shot a bitter glance at Sano. “But Father has kindly given Lord Ienobu a helping hand.”

Reiko was disturbed to realize that Yoshisato wasn’t the only bone of contention. “What else happened?”

“Madam Chizuru told Father that she stabbed the shogun,” Masahiro said. “She said Lord Ienobu told her to kill him. She voluntarily confessed.”

Stunned again, Reiko sank to her knees on the cold floor. “So the crime is solved, just like that? Lord Ienobu is guilty and he’ll be put to death?” She couldn’t believe the investigation was finished so soon and Sano’s risks had finally paid off.