Concubine's Tattoo (35 page)

Asakusa, a suburb on the bank of the Sumida River, straddled the highway that led to all points north. Travelers often stopped to have refreshments and make offerings at the temple. This convenient location made Asakusa one of Edo's most popular entertainment districts. Noisy crowds thronged the precinct, gathering around stalls that sold plants, medicines, umbrellas, sweets, dolls, and ivory figurines. The scent of incense mingled with the toasty smell of Asakusa's famous "thunder crackers," made of millet, rice, and beans. Consulting a clothbound ledger, the priest halted outside a teahouse. Nearby, audiences cheered three acrobats who spun iron tops on the rims of their fans while balanced on a plank perched atop tall bamboo poles supported by a fourth man.

"According to Lady Harume's statement, she was standing here, like this." The priest positioned himself at the corner of the teahouse, just inside the adjacent alley and half-turned away from the street. "The dagger came from that direction"-he pointed diagonally across Naka-mise-dori-"and struck here." He touched a narrow slit in the plank wall of the teahouse. "The blade pierced Lady Harume's sleeve. Any closer, and she would have been seriously injured-or killed."

"What happened to the weapon?" Hirata asked.

"I have it here."

From the ledger, the priest took a paper-wrapped package. Hirata opened this and found a short dagger with a tapering, sharply pointed steel blade, the haft wrapped in black cotton cord. It was the sort of cheap weapon used by commoners, easily hidden beneath clothing or under the bed... and sold everywhere.

"I'll keep this," Hirata said, rewrapping the dagger and tucking it under his sash, though he had minimal hope of tracing the owner. "Were there any witnesses?"

"The people nearby were all looking in the other direction, at the acrobats. Lady Harume had become separated from her companions and was very upset. Either she saw nothing, or fright made her forget. Vendors down the street noticed a man in a dark cloak and hood running away."

Hirata's heart gave a thump of excitement. The attacker had worn the same disguise as Choyei's killer!

"Unfortunately, no one got a good look at the culprit, and he escaped," the priest said.

"How?" This surprised Hirata. The Asakusa security force usually maintained order and subdued troublemakers with admirable efficiency. "Didn't anyone chase after him?"

"Yes, but the incident occurred on Forty-six Thousand Day," the priest reminded Hirata.

Hirata nodded in glum comprehension. A visit to the temple on this summer holiday equalled forty-six thousand visits on ordinary days, incurring the equivalent in blessings. The precinct would have been jammed with pilgrims. Additional stalls selling Chinese lantern plants, whose fruit warded off the plague, would have hindered the pursuit, while the confusion allowed the would-be assassin to flee. Sighing, Hirata gazed up at the overshadowing bulk of the temple's main hall, the tiered roofs of the two pagodas. He envisioned the shrines, gardens, cemeteries, other temples, and secondary marketplace within Asakusa Kannon's precinct; the roads leading through the surrounding rice fields; the ferry landing and the river. There were countless places for a criminal to hide, and just as many avenues for escape. Lady Harume's attacker had chosen both time and place well.

"Do you have any other information?" Hirata asked without much hope.

"Just the names of everyone in the Edo Castle party. I gathered the women and their escorts at the temple and took statements from them, according to routine procedure."

He held out the ledger, and from the list of Harume's fifty-three companions, one entry leapt out at Hirata: Lady Ichiteru. A sick feeling engulfed his stomach. Pointing to his erstwhile lover's name, he said, "What did she tell you?"

The priest turned pages and found the statement. "Ichiteru said she was having tea alone down the street when she heard Lady Harume scream. She claimed not to know anything about the attack, or who might have been responsible."

But Ichiteru was a liar with no alibi. When Harume survived, had Ichiteru resorted to poison? However, Hirata didn't want to prove her guilt, not even for the sake of closing the case, or the satisfaction of seeing Ichiteru punished. The prospect of success and revenge lost appeal when he imagined living the rest of his life knowing he'd been tricked by a murderer.

"Let me see that list again." Finding Lieutenant Kushida noted there, Hirata experienced great relief. Kushida fit the assassin's general description. The dagger wasn't his preferred weapon, but he might have chosen it because it was more easily concealed than a spear. "What was Kushida's story?"

"He was so distraught over his failure to protect Lady Harume that I couldn't determine his whereabouts during the attack," said the priest.

"Had anyone else seen him?"

"No. They'd split up to escort various ladies around the precinct. Everyone assumed Kushida was with a different group." The priest frowned. "I know the lieutenant from my days at Edo Castle. I had no reason to believe he was a suspect in the attack, or that he would become a fugitive from the law. Otherwise I would have tried to trace his movements. I'm sorry to be of so little help."

"Not at all," Hirata said. "You've told me what I wanted to know."

He was convinced that the same man had flung the dagger at Lady Harume, poisoned her, and silenced Choyei. Lieutenant Kushida had had plenty of opportunity to commit the crimes, and no alibis. Hirata foresaw his triumphant return into Sano's good graces and his own self respect.

All he had to do was find Lieutenant Kushida.

In the daimyo district, a party of soldiers escorting a lone palanquin halted outside the gate bearing a double-swan crest. The commander announced, "The wife of the shogun's sosakan-sama wishes to call on Lord Miyagi."

One of the Miyagi guards said, "Please wait while I inform the daimyo that he has a visitor."

Inside the palanquin, Reiko trembled with happy excitement. Her detective career had truly begun. Earlier this morning, she'd talked to Eri, who had promised to arrange a meeting with Lady Ichiteru later. Now came her first chance to match wits with a murder suspect. How she hoped that Lord Miyagi was the killer, so she could have the triumph of proving it! As she waited, Reiko fidgeted with a box of sweets she'd brought as a courtesy gift to the Miyagi. Circumstance had provided her the perfect excuse to call on them. She could probe for dark secrets, and Lord Miyagi would never suspect her true purpose. Though Reiko tried to settle down and concentrate on the task ahead, a smile kept breaking out on her face, and not only because she'd achieved her dream.

Her first night with Sano had added new dimension to life. Despite the soreness between her legs, love had given her an exhilarating sense of physical and spiritual well-being. The world seemed full of tempting challenges, and Reiko felt ready to take on all of them. Impatiently she peered out of the palanquin at the Miyagi's gate.

Finally a manservant emerged. "Lord and Lady Miyagi will receive Lady Sano in the garden," he said.

Clutching her gift box, Reiko alit from the palanquin. She told her entourage to wait outside, then followed the servant into the daimyo's estate. In the enclosure formed by the retainers' barracks, only two samurai sat in the guardroom. An inner courtyard surrounded a mansion with half-timbered walls and tile roof. A lone guard stood by the entry porch. The place was eerily deserted. Sano had warned Reiko to expect this, and now her heart began to race with anticipation. Surely Lord Miyagi's abnormal manner of living indicated a shady character. Was she going to meet the murderer of Lady Harume?

Reiko followed her escort through another gate, into the private garden. Pines stood like grotesque monsters, their trunks and limbs artificially contorted, the foliage pruned to emphasize their twisted postures. The ornamental boulders were thick, phallic pillars with rounded heads. From a cluster of shrubs rose the black statue of a many-armed hermaphroditic deity whose hands touched its naked breasts and erection. This morning Sano had briefed Reiko on the Miyagi's strange household, but mere words hadn't prepared her for the reality. Sexual initiation had expanded her senses, making her keenly aware of her surroundings. The garden's atmosphere was curiously hushed. Sunlight, filtered through the deformed trees, cast deep shadows. Reiko's nostrils flared at the putrid taint of rot in the air.

A pretty young woman raked neat parallel lines into a bed of white sand. Another tossed crumbs to orange carp in the pond. In the pavilion, an older woman with a plain, severe face sat and sewed. A middle-aged man, dressed in a faded blue cotton coat, knelt by a flower bed, ladling something out of a wooden bucket.

Suddenly Reiko was afraid, even with her guards waiting outside. She'd never interviewed a murder suspect before. Her knowledge of criminals was confined to the ones she'd watched safely in the magistrate's court. Now the sinister ambience of the Miyagi estate alerted Reiko that she was out of her depth. Could she get the information she wanted, without exposing her role as Sano's partner? To keep his respect, to serve honor and love, she must succeed. Was Lord Miyagi really the killer, and what would he do if he discovered her subterfuge?

"The Honorable Lady Sano Reiko," announced the servant.

Everyone turned toward Reiko. The rake halted in its tracks; the girl feeding the fish paused, arm extended. Lord Miyagi held his ladle in midair, while his wife's hands stilled on her embroidery. As they all observed Reiko in expressionless silence, she could almost see the bonds that joined them, like the skeins of a web. The daimyo and the two young women moved to stand beside the pavilion where Lady Miyagi sat. Reiko had the sense of separate parts of the same alien creature uniting against a threat. Suppressing a shiver of distaste, she approached her hosts.

Lady Miyagi bowed. "Your presence does us honor." She smiled, showing her blackened teeth.

The familiar ritual of introductions that followed restored Reiko's composure somewhat. "I've come to thank you for the beautiful sewing chest you sent me as a wedding present," she said, giving the ostensible reason for her visit. "Please accept this token of my appreciation."

"Many thanks," Lady Miyagi said. One of the concubines took Reiko's package. To the other, Lady Miyagi said, "Wren, fetch some tea for our guest." Both girls hurried into the house. Lady Miyagi flexed her shoulders. "One grows stiff from sitting too long, and I am sure you must be restless after traveling by palanquin. Come, let us take a turn around the garden."

Rising, she descended from the pavilion. She moved with a jerky, unfeminine stride; her gray kimono hung on her angular body. Hovering close beside Reiko, she said, "We are delighted to make your acquaintance."

Earlier, Reiko had hoped that the Miyagi would welcome a chance to curry favor with Sano through her, and hence give her more than the usual few moments allotted for a courtesy call. Now, though the scheme was working, she longed to finish her business and leave as soon as possible. Lady Miyagi's flat black eyes glittered with predatory interest. Reiko edged away-and bumped into Lord Miyagi, who had come to stand at her left.

"As lovely as spring snow on cherry blossoms," he drawled, sighing through moist lips.

Pinned between her hosts, Reiko felt increasingly alarmed, and not at all flattered by the compliment, which suggested the spoilage of beauty. She found Lord Miyagi repulsive, with his loose skin, droopy-lidded eyes, and slouching stance. Was he the father of Lady Harume's child? How could she have tolerated his touch? The stench Reiko had noticed didn't mask the intimate, musky odor that wafted from husband and wife. Inwardly she recoiled from its aura of mysterious, unhealthy practices. After consummating her marriage, she'd fancied herself very adult and experienced. Now her happy delusion crumbled before the perverse sophistication of the Miyagi.

"A walk in the garden sounds wonderful," she blurted.

Eager to put some distance between herself and the couple, she started down the path. But Lord and Lady Miyagi stayed so close that their sleeves touched hers as they strolled. Reiko could feel the daimyo's hot breath on her temple. Lady Miyagi was a barrier that prevented her from breaking the formation. Had Lady Harume felt this fearful unease while ensnared in the couple's erotic web? Would they dare make designs upon the wife of a high Tokugawa official?

Reiko wished she'd brought her guards. Nervousness drove from her mind the plans she'd made for questioning Lord Miyagi. She fumbled to start a conversation that might produce the answers she wanted.

"I admire your garden," she said. "It's so-" Seeking an apt description, she noticed another statue: a two-headed winged demon with the corpse of a small animal in its claws. Reiko shuddered. "So elegant, " she finished lamely.

Lady Miyagi said, "But I imagine that the sosakan-sama's garden is far better?"

Hearing genuine curiosity in the conventional reply, Reiko guessed that the daimyo's wife had mentioned Sano because she wanted to find out what Reiko knew about the murder case. Reiko seized on the opening. "Unfortunately, my husband hasn't much time to devote to nature. Distressing matters occupy his attention. You may have heard about the incident that interrupted our wedding festivities?"

"Indeed. Quite shocking," Lady Miyagi said.

"Oh, yes." The daimyo sighed. "Harume. All that loveliness destroyed. Her suffering must have been extreme." Lasciviousness crept into Lord Miyagi's smile. "The knife cutting her soft skin; the blood welling; the poisoned ink seeping into her young body. The convulsions and madness." Lord Miyagi's hooded eyes sparkled. "Pain is the ultimate sensation; fear is the most intense of all emotions. And there's a unique beauty in death."

Reiko experienced a frisson of horror as she realized that Lord Miyagi's tastes ranged even farther beyond the boundaries of normality than she or Sano had thought. She remembered a trial her father hadn't let her watch, that of a merchant who'd strangled a prostitute while they coupled, achieving the ultimate carnal satisfaction in the death of his lover. Had Lord Miyagi sought the same with Lady Harume, reveling in her agonies from afar?