Samurai's Wife (29 page)

The nuns rose. Kozeri envisioned their consciences as clear water, hers as a dust storm. She possessed knowledge that could help Sano solve the case, but she also had dangerous secrets to keep. Telling the truth could jeopardize her life; love could destroy her hard-won peace. She'd not only lied to Sano, but this exercise she was performing had equipped her with a weapon that she'd used against him in self-defense. If he discovered the nature of the weapon, he would charge her with murder. Kozeri didn't know what would come of their acquaintance, but his duty, and their mutual attraction, had ensured one outcome. Sano would be back.

Clad in a dressing gown, her freshly washed hair sleek and wet, Reiko walked from the bathchamber at Nijo Manor to her room and found that Sano had returned. He was seated on the floor, sorting through the boxes of papers from Left Minister Konoe's office that Chamberlain Yanagisawa had just sent. He greeted her with a quick nod, then continued perusing documents.

"I was starting to worry about you," Reiko said, kneeling beside him. Night had fallen; the inn's guests had already retired. "Shall I order your dinner?"

"No, thank you," Sano said, frowning at a letter in his hand. "I stopped at a food stall, so I'm not hungry."

"Well, I'm glad you're back." Puzzled by his curt manner, Reiko said, "Guess what: I've learned something about the fern-leaf coins." She described how she'd made inquiries and connected the coins to the Dazai gangster clan.

"That's a good lead," Sano said. He stopped his work and looked at her, yet Reiko would have appreciated a little more enthusiasm from him. "But Left Minister Konoe might have been spying on the Dazai for some purpose not connected to the imperial restoration plot, or his murder."

"That's true." Although she understood the need for objectivity, Reiko was disappointed by Sano's skepticism. "What did you learn today?"

"I just came from Nijo Castle," Sano said. "Chamberlain Yanagisawa raided Lord Ibe's house, but the outlaws and weapons were gone. He's leading a search for them. Unfortunately, he's located Yoriki Hoshina, as Marume and Fukida have just informed me. I've had Hoshina transferred to a new hiding place, but it may be just a matter of time before Yanagisawa finds him again. Earlier, I questioned Right Minister Ichijo, Emperor Tomohito, and Prince Momozono." Sano described the interviews, then said, "Either Ichijo or the emperor could have the power of kiai; either or both could be involved in the imperial restoration plot. They both have alibis that don't convince me, but would be hard to disprove."

"What about Lady Jokyoden?" Reiko said.

Sano's gaze strayed to the scrolls that lay in stacks around him. "I haven't had a chance to see her yet."

"Why not?" Reiko was surprised because he'd been gone long enough, and she thought he would have called on all the suspects while at the palace. She was also anxious to know whether Jokyoden could have committed the second murder. A solid alibi would clear Jokyoden of suspicion and ease Reiko's fear that she'd made a mistake by trusting the woman.

"I went to see Kozeri." Now Sano resumed sorting through papers with intent concentration.

"Again? Why?"

"I wanted to know about Konoe's last visit to her." Without looking up from his work, Sano said, "She saw Konoe shortly before his death. He told her he was on the verge of a great accomplishment. This suggests that he'd discovered the conspiracy and planned to report it to the bakufu, with the expectation of getting a big reward."

His reason for taking the time to see the nun seemed flimsy to Reiko, and the diversion uncharacteristic of Sano. "Yes, that does indicate that Konoe knew about the plot," she said, "but Kozeri's not really a suspect, is she? There were no outsiders in the palace during Konoe's murder, and when Chamberlain Yanagisawa set you up to be murdered, he didn't notify Kozeri of the opportunity to kill you."

"Kozeri's story substantiates my theory about the killer's motive, which is critical to solving the case. She's an important witness, so I went to see her. I'll talk to Lady Jokyoden tomorrow." Irritation tightened Sano's voice. "Why can't you respect my judgment?"

He'd been short-tempered the night before last, and for as little apparent reason as now, Reiko remembered. "Are you angry at me because I went around asking about the coins?" she said.

"I'm not angry," Sano snapped.

"Then what's wrong?" Now Reiko realized that he'd behaved this way after seeing Kozeri the first time. "Did Kozeri say or do something to upset you?"

"Of course not," Sano said in a defensive, unconvincing tone. "I already told you what happened. If I'm upset, it's because you question everything I do."

A sharp prick of suspicion disturbed Reiko. But no, she had absolute confidence in Sano's fidelity. Although other husbands took lovers and mistresses, he'd never given her reason to think him interested in another woman.

Shamed by her suspicion, Reiko said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Sano nodded, dismissing her apology. He compared the note she'd found in the charcoal brazier beside a letter from Konoe's personal files. "The calligraphy matches. Konoe did write the note about the activities at Lord Ibe's house. And here's something else." He read from a document: `I, Nakane the Weaver, agree to sell my house in Nishijin to the Honorable Left Minister Konoe Bokuden.' There's a map showing the location of the house that Lady Jokyoden took you to. So Konoe did own the house." Sano gave Reiko a brief, forced smile before returning his attention to the papers. "Maybe Jokyoden isn't the killer and we can trust her."

"Maybe," Reiko said, uncomfortably aware that she hadn't told him about Jokyoden's affair with Konoe. She'd promised her discretion, and she must honor her promise unless the affair became vital evidence in the case, which it so far hadn't. She was afraid that Sano was keeping secrets from her, too.

They spent the rest of the evening in stilted, minimal conversation, and when they went to bed, they lay awake for a long time, facing away from each other.

I hope you don't mind if I work while we talk," Lady Jokyoden said to Sano. "No matter what misfortunes befall us, we must still observe the rites of Obon."

"Please, go right ahead," Sano said.

It was morning, and they were in the Buddhist chapel of Jokyoden's residence. The rain doors were raised; the wind wafted a bitter tang of smoke into the room. On a platform in a recessed niche sat a gilded Buddha statue surrounded by gold lotus flowers. Many narrow alcoves each held a table containing a vase for flowers, an incense burner, and a butsudan-memorial shrine-in the form of a small cabinet. From the ceiling hung trappings of the Festival of the Dead: plaited white paper strips, toys once owned by deceased children, and a mask of Otafuku, a deity of fortune.

Lady Jokyoden knelt on the tatami floor amid supplies for her Obon preparations and untied the cord around a stack of straw mats. Sano, standing nearby, noted that Jokyoden seemed unperturbed by his unannounced arrival. She'd politely acquiesced to an interview and didn't seem to mind being alone with him, but she waited for him to speak first.

"Where were you during the murder three nights ago?" Sano asked.

Serenely indifferent, Jokyoden began setting mats under the butsudan. There was no hint of mystical power about her, and Sano thought it unlikely that rigorous martial arts training would have been wasted on a woman. While still on his guard, he felt less apprehension than while interviewing Right Minister Ichijo and Emperor Tomohito.

"I can't remember," Jokyoden said.

Perplexed, Sano said, "Surely you have some idea."

"I am afraid I do not."

"The murder happened just before midnight," Sano said. "What were you doing then?"

Busy with her task, Jokyoden gave him a demure glance from beneath lowered eyelids. "I really don't know."

Sano was more inclined to believe that she preferred not to say. She certainly wasn't the fool that she sounded. Whether innocent or guilty, why didn't she just present a plausible lie instead of such a ridiculous claim?

"Did you go near the kitchens?" Sano asked.

"Perhaps... perhaps not."

And why not just place herself elsewhere, away from the murder scene? "Did you see or talk to anybody?" Sano persisted. "Is there anybody who might have seen you?"

"I don't recall whether I saw or spoke with anyone." Having finished with the mats, Jokyoden filled the alcove vases with water from a spouted jar. Her movements were precise; she didn't spill a drop. "You will have to ask the other palace residents whether they saw me."

Nettled by her impervious calm, Sano said, "You can't really expect me to believe that you've forgotten everything about that night."

She turned to him with a bland smile. "I expect nothing. But I beg you to excuse this humble woman for her poor memory."

During past investigations, Sano had met suspects who'd obstructed him by pretending ignorance, but none had carried it off as smoothly as Lady Jokyoden. What a maddening woman! Still, he admired her nerve.

Then Jokyoden said, "In my opinion, the world is a better place with one less despicable Tokugawa samurai. Your treatment of the emperor was a disgrace." Frowning, Jokyoden arranged fresh lotus flowers. "You dishonored the entire Imperial Court. It was an insult that begged revenge."

Sano stared at Jokyoden in amazement. After refusing to tell her whereabouts at the time of the murder, she'd just handed him her motive for wanting him dead! What was she up to?

"It's understandable that you don't care for me," he said, "but perhaps you found Left Minister Konoe more compatible."

"Why do you say that?" Jokyoden said in a tone of polite curiosity.

"You knew about the house he'd secretly purchased, which indicates a more than superficial acquaintance with him." Sano ventured a bold guess: "Were you and he lovers?"

Jokyoden gasped and dropped the vase she was holding. It broke on the floor; lotuses scattered and water splashed. With a moan of distress, she grabbed a cloth and began cleaning up the water.

"Here, let me help." Sano gathered up the fallen blossoms, gratified to see that he'd shaken Jokyoden's composure at last.

"Thank you," she murmured. She inserted the flowers in a new vase and placed it carefully on an altar. Then she stood and faced Sano. "So your wife told you my secret, even though she promised me her discretion? No? But of course, you are clever enough to have guessed." Jokyoden's expression was strained. "Yes, the left minister and I were once lovers."

Then Reiko had known, Sano thought; yet instead of telling him, she'd kept silent. Sano was furious at Reiko, but he welcomed the news of her duplicity, as if it somehow excused his own behavior with Kozeri.

Jokyoden said sadly, "My husband is not the most stimulating companion, and his nature requires me to perform many of his duties. My work brought me into close contact with Left Minister Konoe. He was attractive and unmarried. We had many interests in common. I was lonely. Eventually, friendship led to romance. But the romance did not last."

"Why not?" Sano said, making an effort to forget his personal problems and concentrate on Jokyoden.

"In the beginning, the left minister seemed wonderful. He praised me, brought me gifts, made me feel cherished and important. I fell in love with him. But soon he changed. He lost his temper if I disagreed with him on court policy. He pressured me to put my husband's official seal on documents that would give him more authority. When I refused..."Jokyoden blinked, swallowed, then said, "He had other women. And he was always busy with Tomohito, talking to him, supervising his lessons, rehearsing him for ceremonies, and playing games with him, while ignoring me.

"Finally I told the left minister that I wanted to end our liaison. I expected him to object, apologize, and ask for another chance, but he just said he'd never really wanted me; he'd used me to gain more influence over the court. And he didn't need me any longer because he'd won Tomohito's confidence. His affection had been a pure sham. I was terribly hurt and made a hysterical scene."

Abruptly Lady Jokyoden knelt by a tray of covered dishes. She lifted the lids, revealing traditional Obon foods: noodles, rice cooked with lotus petals, dumplings, sweet cakes, pickled eggplant, and fruit. With extreme care, she picked up a pair of chopsticks and divided the food onto small platters made of unglazed red earthenware. Sano thought he saw tears gleam in her eyes.

"So although I once cared very much for the left minister, it would be hypocritical for me to say that I regret his death. After our romance ended, I still had to work with him as usual. His presence was a constant reminder of my own foolishness. I wanted never to see him again." Arranging noodles on a platter, she drew a tremulous breath. "His death granted my wish."

Revenge on a cruel lover was a powerful motive for murder, yet something about Jokyoden's confession bothered Sano. Convincing as it sounded, he couldn't quite imagine her falling for such a transparent scheme, and once again, she'd volunteered information too readily. Dropping the vase had seemed too melodramatic for a woman as poised as Jokyoden. Now Sano wondered whether she and Konoe ever had been lovers, or quarreled. But if not, then why lie and incriminate herself further?

Sano said, "I understand that you manage the affairs of the imperial family. You must have a remarkable talent for business."

"You're too generous. My poor efforts hardly deserve praise." An air of waiting stillness came over Jokyoden, although her hands continued filling dishes.

"So it would be humiliating to fall under the domination of someone less worthy or capable than yourself."

"Humiliation was the ultimate result of my affair with the left minister, yes." Rising, Jokyoden began setting food platters on each altar as offerings to the spirits of the dead. She gave Sano an oblique glance, as if not sure what he was getting at, but sensing a trap.

"And now, with Left Minister Konoe gone, you're free from his interference," Sano said, walking beside Jokyoden. "But how free can you really be, while the Imperial Court is ruled by the bakufu? Do you ever resent its domination?"