Dragon's King Palace (7 page)

As Hirata explained, he observed that Lord Niu’s shock appeared genuine. But if he’d arranged the ambush, he would have expected Hirata to come, and prepared to feign innocence. Hirata glanced at the
daimyo
’s men. The guards and Okita looked wary, and Hirata decided they hadn’t been aware of the crime. Their master often acted without their knowledge.

“Tell me what you did with the women,” Hirata said.

“You think I took them?” Lord Niu rose so fast that he almost knocked over his valet, who’d ceased trying to shave him. He faced Hirata with an incredulous stare.

“Yes,” Hirata said.

“Well, I didn’t,” Lord Niu declared. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“You want to separate Midori from me and break the union between our clans,” Hirata said. “The Council of Elders expects the ransom instructions to demand money, but I know better. You want to force the shogun to dissolve my marriage.”

Lord Niu looked dumbfounded. “However much I hate you, I did not massacre a Tokugawa procession or kidnap the shogun’s mother. You’re not worth risking execution for murder and treason.” His voice turned contemptuous; his hand shot out and shoved Hirata. “Only a madman would go to such great lengths for a feud with the likes of you.”

That Lord Niu was the madman, Hirata had come to realize when the
daimyo
had begun pursuing vengeance against him. “You’ve already gone to great lengths,” Hirata said. “When Midori came here for her ritual visit after our wedding, you locked her in and threatened to kill her unless I divorced her.” The memory fueled Hirata’s anger toward Lord Niu. “You didn’t let her out until I showed up with troops and forced you to give my wife back to me.”

“She wanted to stay,” Lord Niu lied brazenly. “You took her against her will.”

“A month later, you pretended to forgive me and invited me to a banquet,” Hirata continued. “I sat beside you while we ate and drank. That night I fell ill with terrible stomach cramps, diarrhea, and vomiting. No one else at the party got sick. The Edo Castle physician said I’d been poisoned. You did it. You tried to murder me.”

“That’s vicious slander.” Lord Niu puffed himself up in indignation. “You just can’t hold your liquor.”

“And this spring, a band of assassins attacked me in town,” Hirata said. “My men and I fought them, and they ran away—but not before I got a good look at them.” Hirata pointed to a hatchet-faced guard standing by the window. “That’s their leader. Too bad for you that your men are inept cowards.”

The guard bristled at the insult and took a step toward Hirata. A warning look from Lord Niu halted him. Lord Niu folded his arms in defiance; his left eye glared at Hirata, while his right dreamed. He said, “You’re mistaken. Those weren’t my men you saw. They must have been some of your other enemies. And I’ve had enough of your false accusations.”

Yet Hirata had even more evidence that Lord Niu would shed blood to satisfy a grudge. When Hirata had asked Midori about her father’s behavior, she’d confessed that he’d always had a wild, violent, unreasonable nature. Lord Niu had vented his ire at the Tokugawa by beating his concubines, fighting his retainers, rampaging through his province, and slaughtering innocent peasants. Furthermore, Sano had told Hirata about the
daimyo
’s youngest son, now dead, who’d committed such extreme treason that he couldn’t have been sane. The clan had hushed up Lord Niu’s excesses to protect him, and the
bakufu
had hushed up the treason rather than allow the public to know the regime was vulnerable to attack. Hirata now belonged to a select group of people who knew madness ran in the Niu family. And he believed that Lord Niu’s rage against him had worsened the madness and driven Lord Niu to abduct Lady Keisho-in and slaughter her entourage.

“I’ve had enough of your denials,” Hirata said, advancing on Lord Niu. “I want to know what you’ve done with Midori-
san
and her friends.”

Though Lord Niu stood only as high as Hirata’s shoulder, his crooked sneer was intimidating. “I couldn’t have abducted them. I’ve been here in Edo the whole time. They’ll tell you.” He jerked his chin toward his men.

“It’s true,” Okita said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice. The valet and guards nodded. “He didn’t do it. He never even left the estate.”

This alibi didn’t convince Hirata. Those men owed their loyalty to Lord Niu, had dutifully stood by him through all the evils he’d done, and would lie to protect him. “Then you must have sent troops or hired mercenaries so you could keep your hands clean,” Hirata said.

Anger surged in him, and not just because he thought Lord Niu had kidnapped Midori. The
daimyo
had been draining enjoyment from his marriage and his anticipation of fatherhood. His heart was thudding, his hands itching to pound the truth out of Lord Niu. He paced around the
daimyo
, who revolved, glaring at him.

“That is a lie,” Lord Niu sputtered. “I didn’t order the kidnapping. How could I have, when I had no idea the women were going on that trip?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” Hirata said, circling Lord Niu, growing angrier by the moment. “You have spies at Edo Castle because you’re deluded enough to think the Tokugawa are plotting war against you—even though they wouldn’t disrupt the peace they’ve maintained for almost a century. You must have heard about Lady Keisho-in’s plans.”

“How dare you mock me?” Lord Niu clenched and unclenched his hands, as though eager to strangle Hirata. “Why do you waste time accusing me, instead of hunting the real culprit?”

Their mutual antagonism vibrated in the atmosphere. The guards rested their hands on their sword hilts; Marume and Fukida hovered alert, anticipating battle.

“May I suggest that there has been a misunderstanding?” Okita said cautiously. His main duty was to control Lord Niu and defuse situations that could ignite the
daimyo
’s temper, Hirata knew. “Perhaps if we all sit down and have some tea, we can resolve our differences.”

Lord Niu ignored his retainer. He froze, and a look of horrified comprehension nearly aligned the halves of his face. “Oh, I see what’s going on,” he said to Hirata. “This is another of your schemes against me.” Lord Niu clung to the conviction that Hirata was out to get him, despite Hirata’s assurances that all he wanted was a truce. “You want me gone forever, and my honor disgraced—and what better way than to brand me a traitor?” The
daimyo
jabbed a finger into Hirata’s chest. “You kidnapped the women yourself, to frame me!”

“What?” Shock halted Hirata and dropped his mouth. How Lord Niu twisted reality never ceased to amaze him. “But I didn’t—surely you can’t believe—”

“Don’t deny it,” Lord Niu said, his complexion purple with fury. “You and the shogun hatched the scheme together. You arranged the crime. You used my daughter to implicate me. The shogun plans to execute me for abducting his mother, then confiscate my lands.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hirata protested.

“What did he promise you in exchange for your help, you dirty sneak?” Lord Niu seized Hirata by the front of his kimono. “A portion of my wealth? My province to rule?”

Outraged, Hirata wrenched free of Lord Niu. “I would never frame anyone for murder and treason. Even though you deserve punishment for everything you’ve done to me, I would never conspire against my wife’s father. You’re just trying to divert suspicion from yourself onto me!”

“See how he pretends to be innocent,” Lord Niu said to the assembly, his voice filled with scorn. “See how he pretends to believe he thinks I’m guilty. See how he eagerly anticipates my ruin. But you won’t get away with it.”

Suddenly he lunged at Hirata. The impact of his body knocked Hirata off balance. He reeled backward and crashed against a wall.

The painted landscape mural cracked. Lord Niu’s hands closed around his neck and squeezed.

“Where are my daughter and Lady Keisho-in?” Lord Niu shouted while Hirata choked and struggled to pry the
daimyo
’s hands loose. “Tell me what you’ve done with them.”

That Lord Niu had turned him into the suspect, and usurped the role of interrogator, astounded Hirata. Detectives Fukida and Mar-ume hurried to his rescue, but Okita got there first. Okita grabbed the
daimyo
and hauled him off Hirata. While Hirata gasped for air, Lord Niu flung Okita away from him. His gaze lit on his valet, who hunched, terrified, on the floor near him. He snatched the shaving razor from the man’s hand.

“I’ll make you admit your evil deeds!” Lord Niu roared. He charged at Hirata.

Compelled to defend himself, goaded beyond prudence, Hirata drew his sword. He could tolerate no more of Lord Niu’s craziness, insults, or attacks. As hot anger overrode self-control, Hirata almost forgot why he’d come here. He would end this war now, regardless of the consequences.

Then Marume and Fukida caught hold of him, arresting his flight toward the
daimyo
. “No, Hirata-
san
!” they shouted.

The guards rushed and seized Lord Niu. Trained to protect people from their master, and their master from himself, they gripped his thrashing limbs. He cursed and fought them, but they wrested the razor from his hand and restrained him.

“You’ll pay for setting me up, you despicable lout!” he yelled at Hirata. “I’ll slice your guts!”

“Come on, let’s go,” Marume said. He and Fukida dragged Hirata from the room.

Now Hirata came to his senses, recalled his purpose. “But I’m not finished.” Wild with rage and distress, he resisted his men; he dragged his feet in the corridor.

“It’s no use,” Fukida said, urging Hirata out of the mansion. “Even if he knows where Midori-
san
is, he won’t talk. Staying will only get you killed.”

Hirata reluctantly capitulated. Outside the estate, they mounted their horses, and he realized how badly he’d handled the confrontation with Lord Niu. He should have kept calm and treated the
daimyo
with courtesy instead of losing his temper. Even as he understood that his father-in-law would probably have behaved the same way whatever he’d done, Hirata experienced mortifying shame. “I threw away a chance to solve the case,” he said.

“There will be other chances,” Marume said, swinging himself into the saddle. “Don’t worry—we’ll save Midori-
san
, no matter what.”

This attempt at reassurance failed to soothe Hirata. As they rode down the street, the sun rising over the roofs of the
daimyo
estates reminded him that time was quickly passing. And he was no closer to finding his wife now than when he’d heard the news of her abduction.

Fukida spoke with the hesitant air of a man voicing what his superior wouldn’t want to hear: “There’s good reason to believe Lord Niu is the kidnapper … but we can’t prove it. And as you told us Chamberlain Yanagisawa said last night, there is an abundance of suspects. Fixating too early on Lord Niu might steer us in the wrong direction.”

Hirata inhaled and nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t let my prejudice blind me to the possibility that someone other than Lord Niu took the women.” And unless he disciplined himself, he might jeopardize his mission.

He and the detectives turned their horses onto the boulevard and galloped west. Ahead, the road wound and narrowed toward the invisible horizon; shops, houses, and pedestrians dwindled into a shimmering haze of heat and charcoal smoke. The hills were gray smudges against the bleached blue sky. If the weather held, a day of hard, fast riding should take Hirata and his men to the scene of the massacre and abduction.

“But if Lord Niu is behind the crime, I’ll prove it,” Hirata said, slapping the reins. “And he will pay.”

6

In the reception room of Sano’s estate, one hundred detectives and soldiers knelt in rows on the floor while Sano, seated on the dais, told them about the kidnapping.

“This case takes priority over everything else,” he said. “For now, we will drop all other tasks.” Investigating the death of a priest at Ueno Temple, and a theft from the Tokugawa treasury, could wait. “The kidnapping may be the work of the Black Lotus sect. We must round up as many outlaw members as we can and find out what they know about the crime.

“Detectives Inoue and Arai, you’ll work with me,” Sano continued. The short, muscular samurai and the tall, thin one bowed. Sano divided the remaining troops into teams. “Go to the shrines, gambling dens, teahouses, and other places that the outlaws are known to frequent. Question your informants about secret temples. Use any means necessary to get leads on who the kidnappers are and where they’re holding the women.”

He sent the men on their way. He was glad to be taking action toward saving Reiko, yet his fear for his wife threatened to shatter the stoic facade he maintained. He told Inoue and Arai to meet him by the gate, then went to the nursery in the mansion’s private quarters.

Morning sun shone through doors open to the garden. Masahiro sat at a tray table, eating rice gruel. Three nursemaids wiped up spills and chattered to him. Everyone saw Sano standing in the doorway. The nurses bowed; Masahiro smiled, his face smeared with food, his eyes bright.

“Papa,” he said.

Love for the little boy stabbed anguish through Sano’s heart. Their son was the embodiment of the happiness Sano shared with Reiko… and stood to lose. Sano managed a cheerful greeting to his son, then beckoned the eldest nursemaid. “I must have a word with you, O-sugi.”

The old woman followed him outside to the garden; there, Sano told her about the kidnapping. Her lips parted in wordless exclamation and tears filled her eyes. She’d been Reiko’s nurse when Reiko was a child. Sano had to look away from O-sugi’s grief, lest it weaken his own self-control.

“Please tell the other servants what has happened,” Sano said. “But Masahiro is not to know. I forbid everyone to talk about it when he might overhear. I don’t want him upset.”

“Yes, master,” O-sugi whispered.

Sano went back into the nursery. He picked up Masahiro and held him tight.

“I paint picture yesterday,” Masahiro said in his earnest baby voice. “Will Mama come home and see?”