Concubine's Tattoo (7 page)

But even sisters had disagreements, Sano knew. Past quarrels in the Large Interior had resulted in murder. For Keisho-in to claim that five hundred women, crowded into such a tight space, lived together in complete harmony, she must either be quite stupid-or lying.
Madam Chizuru cleared her throat and said hesitantly, "There was a feud between Harume and one of the other concubines. Lady Ichiteru. They... didn't get along."
Keisho-in gaped, showing her missing teeth to unfortunate advantage. "No! This is the first I've heard of it."
"Why didn't Lady Ichiteru and Lady Harume get along?" Sano asked.
"Ichiteru is a lady of fine lineage, " Chizuru said. "She's a cousin of the emperor, from Kyoto." This was where the imperial family lived in genteel poverty, though stripped of political power and under the complete domination of the Tokugawa regime. "Before Harume came to Edo Castle eight months ago, Lady Ichiteru was the honorable shogun's favorite companion... at least, among the women."
Stealing a nervous glance at her mistress, Chizuru put a hand to her mouth. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's preference for men was common knowledge, but not, apparently, discussed in his mother's presence.
"But when Harume came, she replaced Lady Ichiteru in the shogun's affections?" Sano guessed.
Madam Chizuru nodded. "His Excellency stopped requesting Ichiteru's company at night and started inviting Harume to his chamber."
"Ichiteru should not have minded," Lady Keisho-in announced. "My darling son has the right to enjoy any woman he chooses. And it's his duty to beget an heir. When Ichiteru failed to produce a child, he was correct to try another concubine." Keisho-in giggled. Winking at Hirata, she said, "One who is young and saucy and fertile-like I was when I met my dear, deceased Iemitsu. You know the kind of girl, don't you, young man?"
A bright red spot of embarrassment burned on each of Hirata's cheeks as he blurted, "Sumimasen-excuse me, but was there anyone among the servants, guards, or attendants who didn't get along with Lady Harume?"
Shaking her head, Keisho-in waved away the question with her pipe, scattering ash onto the cushions. "The staff are people of excellent character and disposition. I personally interviewed them all before they were permitted to work in the Large Interior. None would have attacked a favored concubine."
Madam Chizuru set her jaw and looked at the floor. Sano saw a disturbing fact emerging: Lady Keisho-in was oblivious to what happened around her. The otoshiyori handled the administration of the Large Interior, just as Chamberlain Yanagisawa managed the government for Tokugawa Tsunayoshi. That both leaders of Japan's ruling clan were so weak and dull-witted-there seemed no better term for it-boded ill for the nation.
"Sometimes people are not what they seem," Sano hinted. "Someone may hide his true nature, until something happens... "
Chizuru seized on this opening: she was obviously torn between fears of contradicting Lady Keisho-in and of lying to the shogun's sosakan-sama.
"The palace guards are all men who come from good families and have good service records. Usually they're of good character, too. But one of them, Lieutenant Kushida... Four days ago, Lady Harume registered a complaint. She said he was behaving in an improper fashion toward her. When the palace officials weren't watching, he would loiter around her, trying to start conversations about... inappropriate things."
Meaning sex, Sano interpreted.
"Lieutenant Kushida sent offensive letters to Lady Harume, or so she said," continued Madam Chizuru. "She even claimed that he spied on her while she bathed. She said she told him again and again to leave her alone, but he persisted, then finally got mad and threatened to kill her."
"Disgusting!" Lady Keisho-in made a face, then said indignantly, "Why does no one tell me anything?"
Chizuru's pained glance at Sano told him that she had informed the shogun's mother, who had forgotten.
"What happened then?" Sano asked.
"I was reluctant to believe the accusations," Chizuru said. "Lieutenant Kushida has worked here for ten years without causing any trouble. He is a fine, upstanding man. Lady Harume had been here only a short time." The otoshiyori's tone indicated that she had thought Harume less fine and upstanding, and the likely source of the problem. "However, this kind of accusation is always treated seriously. The law forbids male staff to bother the women, or engage in any improper relations with them. The penalty is dismissal. I reported the matter to the chief administrator. Lieutenant Kushida was temporarily relieved of his duties, pending an investigation of the charges."
"And was this investigation performed?" Sano asked.
"No. And now that Lady Harume is dead..."
The charges, without her to substantiate them, must have been dropped, which explained why the chief administrator had neglected to tell Hirata about them. How fortunate for Lieutenant Kushida that his accuser's death had averted the disgrace of losing his post. He, as well as the envious Lady Ichiteru, definitely merited an interview.
"Jealous concubines, rude guards," lamented Keisho-in. "Dreadful! Sosakan-sama, you must find and punish whoever killed my sweet little Harume and save us all from this evil, dangerous person."
"I'll need to have my detectives search the Large Interior and speak with the residents," Sano said. "May I have your permission?"
"Of course, of course." Lady Keisho-in nodded vigorously. Then, with a grunt, she pushed herself upright and beckoned Madam Chizuru to help her stand. "It's time for my prayers. But please come and see me again." She dimpled at Hirata. "You, too, young man."
They made their farewells. Hirata almost ran from the room. Sano followed, wondering about his retainer's uncharacteristic bashfulness and looking ahead to all the work they must do. Yet as they left the palace, he was glad that the hour was too late to begin calling on suspects or witnesses, and that they needn't meet with the shogun until tomorrow. At home, Reiko waited. This was their wedding night.

Servants greeted Sano in the entryway of his mansion when he arrived home. They relieved him of his cloak and swords and ushered him into the parlor, where charcoal braziers and lanterns burned, and wall murals depicted a serene mountain landscape. Resting upon silk floor cushions, Sano felt the tensions of the day dissolve and happy anticipation swell within him. Hirata had gone to give orders to the detective corps and secure the estate for the night. Sano's time was his own, until tomorrow. His marriage could begin.
"Would you like a meal?" the chief manservant asked.
Sano nodded, then said, "Where is... my wife?" The phrase felt strange on his lips, but as satisfying as a drink of water after a long, dry journey.
"She has been told that you're home, and she's coming right away." The servant bowed and left the room.
As Sano waited, his heart beat faster; his stomach tightened. Then the door slid open. Sano sat up straight. Into the room walked Reiko. Dressed in a dull orange silk kimono printed with golden asters, her long hair pinned up, his bride carried a porcelain sake decanter and two cups on a tray. Eyes demurely lowered, she glided over to Sano, knelt before him, set down the tray, and bowed.
"Honorable Husband," she murmured. "May I serve you?"
"Yes. Please," Sano said, admiring her youthful beauty.
The pouring of liquor smoothed the awkward moment-someone must have instructed Reiko on what to do when alone with her husband for the first time-but her hands trembled when she passed the cup to Sano. Sympathy eased his own nervousness. This was his domain. It was up to him to make Reiko feel comfortable here.
"I hope you're feeling well?" he said, filling the other cup with sake and offering it to her.
Cautiously, as if afraid to touch his hand, Reiko took the cup. "Yes, Honorable Husband."
They drank, and Sano saw that her teeth had been dyed black. An unexpected surge of warmth flooded his groin. He'd never given much thought to this familiar custom of married women; now, seeing Reiko thus transformed awakened his desire. It reminded him that she was his in body as well as spirit.
"Are your rooms satisfactory?" Sano tasted liquor and arousal. Reiko's upswept hair accentuated her graceful neck and sloping shoulders. More than a year had passed since he'd been with a woman... "Have you gotten settled?"
"Yes, thank you."
A tentative smile encouraged Sano: beneath the placid demeanor of a well-bred lady, she was not without feeling for him. Just then, a servant entered, gave Sano a hot, damp cloth for wiping his hands, and set before him a lacquer meal tray. When he and Reiko were alone again, she quickly removed the lids from his dishes of sashimi, steamed trout, and vegetables, then poured his tea. She would have eaten earlier, the better to serve him. Her wifely subservience delighted Sano.
"I hope you'll be happy here," he said. "If there's anything you want, just ask."
Reiko lifted an eager, shining face to him. "Perhaps-perhaps I could help you investigate the death of the shogun's concubine," she blurted.
"What?" The morsel of fish Sano had lifted to his mouth fell from his chopsticks as he stared in surprise.
Gone were his bride's self-effacing pose and appealing shyness. Head high, back straight, she looked Sano directly in the face. Her eyes flashed with nervous daring. "Your work interests me very much. I've heard rumors that Lady Harume was murdered. If it's true, I want to help catch the killer." She gulped, then continued in a rush: "You said that if there was anything I wanted, I should ask."
"That's not what I meant!" Dismay jolted Sano. From deep within his memory rose scenes from his childhood: his mother cooking, cleaning, and sewing at home while his father ventured out into the world to earn their living. Experience had formed Sano's notion of a proper marriage. A host of additional reasons forbade him to grant Reiko's request. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "I appreciate your offer, but a murder investigation is no place for a wife."
He expected her to accept his decision, as his mother had all of his father's. But Reiko said, "My father told me you'd think that, and he agrees. But I want to work, to be useful. And I can help you."
"But how?" Sano asked, increasingly bewildered as his dream of conjugal felicity evaporated around him. Who was this strange, obstinate girl he'd married? "What could you possibly do?"
"I'm educated; I can read and write as well as any man. For ten years I've watched my father's trials in the Court of Justice." Reiko's dainty chin trembled, but she didn't yield before Sano's disapproval. "I understand the law, and criminals. I can help figure out who killed Lady Harume."
Growing up in Magistrate Ueda's mansion, Reiko must have seen more criminals than Sano himself! Ashamed to be outdone by his young bride, Sano also hated to imagine what spectacles of violence and human depravity she'd witnessed. Worse, he hated the thought of allowing these elements of his work to intrude on his private life. How could home be a haven if Reiko shared his knowledge of the world's evils?
"Please... calm down and let me explain," Sano said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Detective work is dangerous. You could get hurt-or even killed." This had happened to many other people during his past cases. His protective instincts rallied in protest against letting his own wife fall victim to his search for justice. "It would be wrong for me to let you have anything to do with the murder investigation." With an air of finality, Sano resumed eating.
"You think I'm weak and stupid because I'm a woman," Reiko persisted, "but I know how to fight. I can defend myself." Ardor lit her lovely, petal-shaped eyes. "And since I am a woman, I can go places where you can't. I can learn things from people who would never talk to you. Just give me a chance, and you'll see!"
Now Sano grew angry. He recalled his docile mother cooking the foods her husband preferred, managing the household to accommodate his needs without ever asking anything for herself. In a samurai's world of unstinting duty to the Tokugawa regime, his own home was the only domain under his absolute control. Now Sano felt this precious control slipping, his manly authority weakening in the face of Reiko's challenge. Fatigue strained his patience. Although the last thing he wanted was a quarrel on his wedding night, his temper snapped.
"How dare you contradict your husband?" Sano demanded, throwing down his chopsticks. "How dare you even suggest that you, a silly, headstrong girl, can do anything better than I can?"
"Because I'm right!"
Reiko leapt to her feet, eyes sparking with a fury that matched Sano's. Her tongue touched her chipped incisor; her hand went to her waist as if reaching for a sword. This unfeminine, aggressive response incensed Sano-and aroused him deeply. Anger turned Reiko's delicate beauty into the raw, female power of a goddess. Her rapid breathing and flushed cheeks suggested sexual excitement. Despite Sano's dislike of her impertinence, he admired her courageous spirit, yet he couldn't believe her capable of investigating a murder-or let her undermine his masculinity by talking back to him. He shoved aside his tray and stood, glaring at his young wife.
"I order you to stay home where you belong, and not to interfere with my work," he said, though aghast at the hostile turn their relationship had taken. He wanted them to be happy together, and hurting Reiko's feelings wouldn't achieve that. But what else could he do? "I'm your husband. You will obey me. And that's final!"
Scorn narrowed Reiko's eyes. "And what will you do if I disobey?" she demanded. "Beat me? Send me back to my father? Or kill me?" A bitter laugh burst from her throat. "I wish you would, because I'm sorry I married you. I'd rather die than submit to you or any other man!"
Her repudiation stabbed Sano like a knife to the heart. Wounded and furious, he experienced an overwhelming urge to assert his power by taking physical possession of her. His manhood sprang erect. He stepped forward and seized her shoulders.
At once, Reiko's brave defiance dissolved. She shrank within Sano's grasp. Towering over her, he felt the fragility of her bones. Terror filled her eyes, and he knew it wasn't blows or death she feared. It was the crueler injury a man could inflict upon a woman-the personal assault on the most sensitive parts of her body. Yet as their gazes locked, Sano sensed in her an unfathomed appetite for that intimate, brutal engagement. Reiko's lips were wet; her breaths came hard and fast. Before Sano shimmered a vision of the two of them naked and entwined, resolving all argument in the primitive mating rite. And he could tell from the shocked expression on Reiko's face that she shared it-and wanted it-too.
Slowly Sano lifted his hand and touched her soft cheek. Their breath mingled for a long, tense moment. Then suddenly she twisted out of his grasp and ran from the room.
"Reiko. Wait!" Sano called.
Her rapid footsteps receded down the passage. A door slammed. His emotions in chaos, his body still engorged with desire, Sano stood frozen, hands holding the emptiness she'd left behind.
In the sanctuary of her private chamber, Reiko latched the door and breathed a tremulous sigh. Her heart still beat wildly in her breast; her muscles quaked. Feverish in her agitation, she hurried through the outer door and stepped onto the veranda.
A lopsided ivory moon poured soft illumination over the garden's trees, boulders, and pavilion. Crickets chirped; dogs barked. Somewhere in the night, guards patrolled the estate and castle; footsteps, hoofbeats, and low voices carried through clear, cold air that smelled of frost and charcoal smoke. In chilly solitude Reiko paced, trying to sort out her tumultuous feelings.
How she hated Sano for disregarding her wishes, for mocking her intelligence and abilities! And how angry she was at herself for badly handling the situation. She should have taken things more slowly, playing the submissive wife and winning his affection before pleading her cause. But she sensed that it wouldn't have made any difference. Sano was like all other men, and she'd been mad to think otherwise.
"Pompous, ignorant samurai!" she muttered, seething with anger. "Ordering me around as if I were a servant, or a child." Beneath her anger was the leaden misery of disappointment. How naive and foolish seemed her dream of solving crimes and achieving glory. "Better that I should have committed seppuku than ever marry!"
As Reiko paced, a warm trickle of moisture slid down her inner thigh. Thinking she'd begun her monthly bleeding, she felt under her skirts. Her hand came up smeared with a clear, musk-scented secretion: the fluid of arousal, her body's involuntary response to the confrontation with Sano. Horror gripped Reiko as she became aware of a heaviness in her lower abdomen, the dull, hot pulse between her legs. Crouching on the veranda, she faced the sum of her fears.
She didn't fear beating, the common punishment for unruly wives- martial arts training had given her a high tolerance for pain-and she knew instinctively that Sano wasn't the kind of man who would hurt a woman in anger. Yet she dreaded the sexual act, a battleground where nature had made her vulnerable to a man's violation. And desire could make her the thrall of the husband who already owned her, destroying her precious independence.
Even so, she was terrified that Sano would divorce her. If he did, everyone would blame her for the marriage's failure; no other man would have her. She and her family would suffer public humiliation. The specter of a bleak future as a disgraced spinster living on the charity of relatives loomed before Reiko. And despite her anger at Sano's tyranny, she didn't want to leave him. She wanted to experience love's dangerous pleasures. Body and spirit yearned for it, even as her mind recoiled at the prospect of a life of domestic seclusion and boredom.
Reiko watched the branches of a tall pine capture the rising moon. Through the tangle of conflicting emotions she identified one certainty: She must make the marriage work-but on her own terms.
She went inside her chamber and knelt before her writing desk. On a shelf above it lay the swords she'd retrieved that afternoon. Reiko ground ink, readied paper, and took up her brush. Desperation strengthened her resolve. She would prove to Sano that a wife could be a detective. She would show him that it was in his best interest to make her a partner in his work instead of a glorified house slave. She would make him love her for herself, not for his idea of what she should be.
With her tongue touching her chipped tooth, Reiko began listing plans for her secret inquiry into the murder of Lady Harume.
Alone, Sano reluctantly decided against going after Reiko: In his current state of anger, confusion, and unsatisfied desire, he would only make things worse between them. He finished eating, though the food had grown cold and he'd lost his appetite. Wearily he rose, went to his room, and shed his clothes. In the bathchamber he scrubbed, rinsed, soaked in the tub, then wrapped himself in a cotton robe. He walked down the corridor, past the empty suite where he'd planned to spend his first night with his bride. Next door, the paper wall of her private chamber glowed with lamplight. Sano paused outside.
Reiko's hazy shadow moved, shrugging off garments, combing her hair. She evidently intended to sleep there. Desire welled in Sano's loins. Fierce possessiveness enflamed his anger. Despite their quarrel, she was his wife. He had the right to command her presence in the marriage bed. Sano grasped the door handle...
... then let his hand fall away, shaking his head as reason tempered angry lust. He could not subdue Reiko through physical strength, because he didn't want a resentful mate who obeyed him only because society decreed that woman must submit to man. He still yearned for a union of mutual love. It had been a long, difficult day, probably no less for Reiko than him. They'd gotten off to a bad start, but tomorrow they would begin again, after a good night's sleep. He would show her every kindness. She would realize that her place was in their home, not in a murder investigation. And she would learn to love him as her husband and superior.
Reluctantly Sano went to his bedchamber, but with his mind replaying his argument with Reiko and thinking of what he should have said, he felt too tense to sleep. Amid the folds of discarded clothing on the floor lay the diary he'd taken from Lady Harume's room. Sano picked it up with a sigh. There was nothing like work to take his mind off domestic troubles, and he might actually learn something useful from the murdered concubine's record of her life and private thoughts. He lay down on the futon and pulled the lamp near. Propping himself on his elbow, he opened the diary's mauve-and-green, clover-printed cloth cover and turned to the first page.