"And why are you so eager to accept the easy solution, so early in the investigation?" Sano countered. "This isn't like you, Hirata-san."

Flushing, Hirata said stubbornly, "I think he killed her."

Sano decided that this wasn't the right time to address his chief retainer's problems, whatever they were. "The weaknesses in the case against Kushida are obvious. First of all, the break-in is evidence of something wrong with him, but not necessarily that he's guilty of murder. Second, just because he lied about certain things doesn't mean we should disregard everything he says.

"Third: If we close the case too soon, the real killer may go free, while an innocent man is executed. More murders could follow." Sano told Hirata about Magistrate Ueda's conspiracy theory. "If there's a plot against the shogun, we must identify all the criminals, or the threat to the Tokugawa line will persist."

Hirata nodded in reluctant agreement. Sano leaned through the doorway and said to the detectives, "Proceed." Then he turned back to Hirata. "Besides, I'm not ready to dismiss my questions about the other suspects."

Although Hirata's unhappy silence troubled him, Sano didn't intend to drop his investigation of the Miyagi-or Lady Ichiteru.

18.

Standing in the doorway to the shogun's bedchamber, Otoshiyori Madam Chizuru announced, "Your Excellency, I present your companion for the night: the Honorable Lady Ichiteru." She beat three ritual strokes on a small gong, then bowed and withdrew.

Slowly, regally, Lady Ichiteru marched into the chamber. She carried a large book bound in yellow silk and wore a man's kimono, striped in black and brown, with thick padding to widen her shoulders. Beneath it, cloth bands flattened her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her face was devoid of powder, lips unpainted, hair knotted in a severe, masculine style. After thirteen years as Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's concubine, she knew how to appeal to his tastes. Now, with retirement only three months away, her life was dominated by the increasingly urgent need to conceive his child before time ran out. She must take advantage of every opportunity to seduce him.

"Ahh, my dearest Ichiteru. Welcome." Tokugawa Tsunayoshi lay abed in a futon piled with colorful quilts, in a lair furnished with gilded lacquer cabinets and the finest tatami. Brilliant wall murals depicted a mountain landscape. Screens decorated with flowers kept out drafts and contained the warmth radiating from sunken charcoal braziers. A standing lamp cast a warm, inviting pool of light upon the shogun, who wore a mauve silk dressing gown and cylindrical black cap. Lavender incense perfumed the air. They were alone except for the bodyguards stationed outside the room and Madam Chizuru listening next door. Yet the shogun's mood was anything but romantic.

"It has been a most, ahh, irritating day," he said. Fatigue lined his pallid face. "So many decisions to make! Then there is the distressing business of, ahh, Lady Harume's murder. I hardly know what to do."

Sighing, he looked up at Lady Ichiteru for sympathy. She sat, laid aside the book, and cradled his head in her lap. He elaborated upon his troubles while she murmured comforting words: "Don't worry, my lord. Everything will be fine." After so many years together, they were like an old married couple, with her as his friend, mother, nursemaid, and-least often-his lover. As she stroked his forehead, impatience simmered beneath Ichiteru's tranquil demeanor. A distant temple bell tolled, signaling the relentless pa.s.sage of time toward her dreaded thirtieth birthday. But she must let Tokugawa Tsunayoshi talk himself out before they could begin s.e.x. While his doleful voice droned on, her thoughts drifted back to the one truly happy period of her life...

Kyoto, the capital of j.a.pan's emperors for a thousand years. In the heart of the city stood the great, walled complex of the Imperial Palace. Ichiteru's family were cousins of the current emperor. They lived in a villa within the palace grounds. Ichiteru had grown up in sheltered isolation there, but her childhood hadn't been lonely. The emperor's court numbered in the thousands. Ichiteru recalled idyllic days spent playing with her sisters, cousins, and friends. But outside the golden halo of her existence, the dark shadow of her future lurked. As a constant background noise ran the complaints of the adults.

They deplored the plain food, the outmoded garments everyone wore, the lack of entertainment, the shortage of servants, and the government.

Gradually Ichiteru came to understand the reason for their genteel poverty and her elders' resentment toward the Tokugawa regime: The bakufu, fearing that the imperial family would try to reclaim its former power, maintained it on a limited income so it couldn't afford to raise troops and launch a rebellion. But not until she reached adulthood did Ichiteru become aware of how politics had charted her life from the very beginning.

"Ahh, Ichiteru." Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's voice drew her back to the present. "Sometimes I think you're the only person who understands me."

Looking down at him, Ichiteru saw that his face had relaxed. At last he was ready for the business of the evening. "Yes, I do understand you, my lord," she said with a provocative smile. "And I've brought you a gift."

"What is it?" Like an eager child, the shogun sat up, pleasure lighting his eyes.

Lady Ichiteru placed the book before him. "It's a spring book, my lord"-a collection of shungaerotic prints,-"created by a famous artist, just for you."

She opened the cover and turned to the first page. In lovely, subtle colors, this showed two naked samurai lying side by side beneath trailing willow boughs. Their swords lay atop piles of discarded clothing as they fondled each other's erect organs. In the corner was a poem written in elegant calligraphy: Warriors in peacetime: Ah! Their jade shafts may prevail Over blades of steel.

"Exquisite, " breathed Tokugawa Tsunayoshi."You know what I like, Ichiteru." From the other side of the wall came the soft rustle of Madam Chizuru stirring, alert to the beginning of the s.e.xual play. Now the shogun noticed Ichiteru's mannish appearance. His eyebrows raised in happy interest. "And how nice you look tonight."

"Thank you, my lord," said Ichiteru, pleased that her scheme for his seduction was working. She let him admire the picture awhile longer, then turned to the second page of the book. The scene featured a bald Buddhist priest, standing in a temple worship hall with his saffron robe hiked above his waist. A young novice knelt at his feet, sucking his swollen member. The poem read: As the lone raindrop is to a summer storm, So does spiritual enlightenment compare With the ecstasies of the flesh!

"Ahh, how blasphemous and disgusting!" Giggling, Tokugawa Tsunayoshi leaned against Ichiteru. Down the corridor came the rhythmic footsteps of patrolling guards. Next door, Madam Chizuru coughed softly. But the shogun seemed oblivious to these distractions as he batted his eyes flirtatiously at Ichiteru.

Smiling in encouragement, Ichiteru suppressed a shudder. She'd always felt extreme revulsion for the shogun's foolish personality and sickly body. Were she able to choose a lover, she would pick someone like Detective Hirata, whom she had so enjoyed teasing at the puppet theater. Now there was a man who could truly appreciate her! But ambition must prevail over emotion. Ichiteru must fulfill the destiny laid out for her long ago.

During her childhood music, calligraphy, and tea ceremony lessons, adult members of the imperial family would often drop by to observe. "Ichiteru shows great promise," they would say. A bright but nave girl, ever compliant and respectful toward her elders, Ichiteru had basked in the praise. Soon came other lessons, given only to her.

A beautiful courtesan from Kyoto's pleasure quarter had come to the palace. Her name was Ebony, and she taught Ichiteru the art of pleasing a man: how to dress and flirt; how to make amusing conversation; how to flatter the male ego. On a wooden statue, Ebony demonstrated hand and mouth techniques for arousing a lover. Later she taught Ichiteru the use of erotica, toys, and games to maintain a man's interest. She undressed Ichiteru and introduced her to the pleasures of her own body. Fingers caressing the downy cleft of Ichiteru's young womanhood, Ebony had brought about her first s.e.xual climax. When Ichiteru had gasped and arched and cried out in rapture, Ebony had said, "That is what a man wishes to see and hear when he beds you."

Using a wooden rod, Ebony had showed her how to tighten her inner muscles around a male organ. She taught Ichiteru ways to seduce a man who didn't like women; how to satisfy unusual appet.i.tes. Later the court physician had instructed her on the use of drugs to heighten arousal and promote conception. Ever dutiful, Ichiteru neither objected to anything demanded of her, nor asked why she had been singled out for this special schooling. Hence, she didn't learn until her sixteenth birthday where the lessons were leading.

Envoys from Edo came to the palace. Ichiteru was dressed in her best clothes and presented to them. Afterward, the empress told her, "You have been selected to be a concubine to the next shogun. The fortune-tellers have prophesied that you shall bear his heir and unite the emperor's clan with the Tokugawa. Through you, wealth and power shall return to the imperial family. You leave for Edo tomorrow."

Later Ichiteru learned that her family had sold her to the shogun's envoys. In a daze of grief and confusion, she endured the month-long trip from Kyoto to Edo. One thought sustained her: The fate of the imperial family depended on her. She must win Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's favor and induce him to impregnate her. It was her duty to the emperor, her country, and the people she loved.

However, Ichiteru's att.i.tude had soon changed. She hated the noise and crowded conditions of the Large Interior, the constant surveillance, the indignity of compulsory s.e.x, the quarrels and rivalries among the women. Soon her brightness turned to cunning; love of family turned to resentment toward those who had condemned her to misery. Her sense of duty vanished. She began to crave wealth and power for herself. She hated Lady Keisho-in's stupidity and tiresome demands for attention with pa.s.sionate jealousy. The vulgar old peasant woman symbolized what Ichiteru wanted to be: A woman of the highest, most secure rank, living in luxury, free to do as she pleased, while commanding everyone's respect.

Thus began Ichiteru's drive to bear Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's heir. Her beauty, talent, and lineage attracted his capricious fancy; her status as his favorite made her a leader within the hierarchy of the Large Interior, no matter that the shogun wanted her company only a few nights a month. Because he squandered his virility on boys, this was much better than any of the other women fared. Four years into her concubinage, Ichiteru was pregnant.

The shogun rejoiced. Blessings poured into Edo Castle from across the land. In Kyoto, the imperial family eagerly awaited its return to prominence. Everyone pampered Ichiteru; she reveled in the attention. A luxurious nursery was prepared.

Then, after eight months, she delivered a stillborn baby boy. The nation mourned. Yet neither the shogun nor Ichiteru gave up. As soon as she regained her health, she returned to Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's bedchamber. Finally, last year, she had gotten with child again. But when she miscarried it at seven months, the bakufu blamed Ichiteru. They advised the shogun against wasting any more precious seed on her. They brought in new concubines to tempt his meager appet.i.te.

One of them was Lady Harume.

Ichiteru's hatred of her rival still burned inside her, even now, with Harume dead. Reminding herself that Harume was no longer a threat, she turned to the next page of the book. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi gasped with delight. In a moonlit garden pavilion, a naked young boy crouched on all fours. Behind him knelt an older man, also naked, except for a black cap identical to the shogun's. With one hand, the man inserted his erection into the boy's a.n.u.s; with the other, he grasped the boy's organ. Lady Ichiteru read the accompanying poem aloud: "Day becomes night, The tides rise and ebb; Frost melts beneath the sun Royalty may take its pleasure however found."

Seeing the gleam of l.u.s.t in Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's eyes, Ichiteru said with a provocative smile, "Come, my lord, and take your pleasure from me."

She parted her kimono. Strapped to her groin by leather bands was a flesh-colored jade shaft carved in realistic likeness of an erect member. The shogun stared in amazement. A tremulous sigh escaped him. "Ahhhh..."

"Close your eyes," Ichiteru crooned.

He obeyed. She took his hand and placed it on the carving. The shogun moaned, stroking it up and down. Ichiteru reached beneath his robes. The tiny, soft worm of his manhood stiffened under her caresses. When he was ready, she gently removed his hand from the carving and raised him to his knees. He groaned as she removed his garments, leaving on his cap. She bent over, balancing on her knees and elbows, kimono lifted above her waist, and rubbed her bare b.u.t.tocks against his erection. The shogun grunted, heaving at her. Ichiteru reached back and guided him to her womanhood, which she'd moistened with fragrant oil. As he moaned and thrusted, trying to penetrate her, she looked back and caught a glimpse of him: flabby muscles straining, mouth open, eyes closed to preserve the illusion that she was a man.

Please, she prayed silently. Let me conceive this time! Make me the mother of the next shogun, and my sordid, degrading life worthwhile!

The shogun's erection entered Ichiteru. Groaning, he plunged in and out. Hope rose within her. By this time next year, she could be Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's official consort. She would persuade him to restore the Imperial Court to its former splendor, thereby achieving her family's goal and placing them in her debt forever. Holding this vision of the future, Ichiteru endured the shogun's a.s.sault. And to think how close she'd come to losing everything!

Harume, young and fresh and lovely. Harume, with her robust, peasant charm. Harume, full of the promise that Ichiteru had once offered. Soon it was Harume whom Tokugawa Tsunayoshi most often invited to his bedchamber. After twelve years of wh.o.r.edom and the agony of two births, Ichiteru was forgotten-but unwilling to accept defeat. She began plotting Harume's downfall. At first she spread cruel rumors and snubbed the girl, encouraging her friends to do the same, hoping that Harume would become so miserable as to ruin her health and looks. But the ploy failed. Lady Keisho-in took a liking to Harume, and promoted her to the shogun as his best prospect for an heir. Hating her rival, wishing her dead, Ichiteru had resorted to more effective means. Still, nothing worked.

Then, two months ago, Ichiteru had noticed that Harume wasn't eating; at mealtimes, she just picked at her food. The bloom faded from her skin. Three mornings in a row Ichiteru discovered her vomiting in the privy. Ichiteru's worst fear was realized: Her rival was pregnant. Ichiteru grew desperate. She had to prevent Harume from beating her to their mutual goal of becoming mother to the next dictator. She couldn't just wait and hope that the child would be female or not live. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life as an overworked palace official, and no man worth marrying would accept a failed concubine as a wife. Nor did she want to return to Kyoto in disgrace. With new determination, she sought a way to destroy her rival.

Unwittingly, Harume had abetted Ichiteru's purpose by not reporting her condition. Perhaps, in her youthful ignorance, she didn't recognize it as pregnancy. Ever watchful, Ichiteru spied Harume stealing from the basket where the women disposed of bloodstained cloths. Ichiteru realized she must be wearing them so Dr. Kitano wouldn't discover that her monthly bleeding had ceased. Maybe she thought she was ill and would be banished from the castle if anyone knew. But Ichiteru could think of a better explanation: The child wasn't Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's. Ichiteru had seen Harume sneak off during excursions away from Edo Castle. Did she fear punishment for consorting with another man? Snooping through her rival's room in search of clues to his ident.i.ty, Ichiteru had discovered a package containing a fancy jar of ink and a letter from Lord Miyagi. But whatever the reason for Harume's secrecy, it gave Ichiteru opportunity to hope and scheme.

And now Harume was dead. Since none of the other concubines could arouse the shogun sufficiently, Ichiteru regained her position as his favorite female partner. She had another chance at conceiving his heir before retiring. One problem remained: She must convince the sosakan-sama that she was not guilty of Harume's murder. She must live to enjoy the fruits of thirteen years' labor.

Abruptly Tokugawa Tsunayoshi went soft inside her. With a cry of dismay, he collapsed upon the futon. "Ahh, my dear, I am afraid I cannot proceed."

Ichiteru sat back on her heels, ready to weep with disappointment and frustration, but she hid her emotions. "I'm sorry, my lord," she said meekly. "Perhaps if I help you... ?"

He made a gesture of dismissal, then pulled the quilt over himself and closed his eyes. "Another time. I'm too tired to try again now."

"Yes, Your Excellency." Ichiteru rose and straightened her disheveled garments. As she crossed the chamber, her resolve strengthened within her like flint in the bones and heart. Next time she would succeed. And until her future was secure, she must make sure her crime was never exposed.

Lady Ichiteru slipped out the door, closing it behind her. Memory and need intersected with a sudden click in her mind. She smiled in wicked inspiration. She knew just how to avoid the calamity of a murder charge and advance her position.

19.

After a few hours sleep and a breakfast of fish and rice, Sano left his mansion early the next morning. Inside, Reiko still slept; servants cleaned up the mess in Sano's office. The detective corps had left word that Lieutenant Kushida was securely imprisoned in his family home. Hirata had already left Edo Castle to check some leads on the drug peddler before finishing his interview with Lady Ichiteru. And Sano was taking a journey back in time.

Overnight, an autumn fog had billowed in from the river. White mist veiled the city, rendering the distant hills and the upper tiers of Edo Castle invisible. The sun was a pale circle floating in a sea of milk. As Sano headed toward the palace, patrolling sentries emerged out of the mist, only to disappear again. Moisture dripped off the stone walls of pa.s.sages and slickened the paths. The thin cries of airborne crows and the drums summoning spectators to a sumo wrestling tournament sounded muted, as if strained through cotton mesh. The smell of wet stone, leaves, and earth dampened the tang of charcoal smoke. On such days when the sharp edges of reality blurred, the spirit world had an almost palpable presence for Sano. The ghostly trail into the past beckoned. What better time than now to follow it to hidden truths about Lady Harume's murder?

Sano found Madam Chizuru in her office, a tiny room in the Large Interior. On the wall hung wooden plates bearing the names of officials and servants on duty. A window overlooked the laundry courtyard, where maids boiled dirty bedclothes in steaming pots. The harsh odor of lye drifted through the lattice. Chizuru, dressed in her gray uniform, knelt behind the desk, going over household account books.

"Madam Chizuru, may I speak with you a moment?" Sano asked from the doorway.

"Yes, of course." The otoshiyori set aside her work and motioned for Sano to sit before her. Then she folded her hands and sat waiting, her masculine face impa.s.sive.

"What can you tell me about Lady Harume's background?" Sano asked. Instinctively he believed that the concubine's life held valuable clues about her death. Where she had come from, and who she'd been, could enlighten him more than witnesses, suspects, or evidence had yet.

Chizuru hesitated, then said, "The dossiers of His Excellency's household are confidential. Special permission is required for me to release details."

"I can get permission from the shogun and come back later," Sano pointed out. Though annoyed by Chizuru's resistance, he respected her adherence to the rules: If more people obeyed them, there would be less crime. "You might as well save us both some trouble by telling me now. And what does confidentiality matter now that Harume is dead?"

"Very well." Madam Chizuru conceded with a brief lowering of her eyes. "Lady Harume was born in f.u.kagawa. Her mother's name is Blue Apple; she's a nighthawk."

This was the poetic euphemism for unlicensed prost.i.tutes, who serviced customers who couldn't afford the expensive, legal Yoshiwara courtesans. No wonder Harume had felt out of place among the generally highborn women of the Large Interior. Confidential or not, personal information had a way of spreading. Had Lady Ichiteru, in particular, resented Harume's presence enough to kill her? Hopefully Hirata would find out today.

"How was Harume chosen as a concubine?" Sano asked.

"The bakufu decided that variety would benefit the Tokugawa succession," Chizuru said.

Meaning that when ladies of samurai or n.o.ble blood failed to produce an heir, a peasant girl was worth a try, Sano interpreted. And Harume had succeeded in becoming pregnant, though the child's paternity wasn't established.

"What about Harume's father?" Sano said.

"He is Jimba of Bakurocho. You may know him."

"Yes, I do." The man was a prominent horse dealer who supplied the stables of the Tokugawa and many powerful daimyo clans, and Sano had purchased mounts from him.

"When the shogun's envoys were searching for new concubines, they came across Harume," Madam Chizuru continued. "She had good looks, a little education, and adequate manners. She seemed promising, and was brought to Edo Castle. That's all the records say about Harume."

Later Sano would visit the dead concubine's parents and learn more about her. But for now, perhaps the crime scene would reveal undiscovered secrets. "I want to look around Lady Harume's room again. Are her things still there?"

Madam Chizuru nodded. "Yes. The floor has been cleaned, but otherwise, everything is just as it was when she died-I've not yet had a chance to send her belongings to her family. And her former chambermates have moved to other quarters. The room is vacant. Come."

Rising, she led Sano through the Large Interior, which was gradually awakening. Palace officials and guards made morning rounds. Maids filed through the corridors, carrying tea trays and water basins. Behind the paper walls, bedclothes rustled and sleepy feminine voices murmured. A fusty odor of sleep and stale perfume soured the atmosphere. But the hallway outside Lady Harume's room was deserted. Sano thanked Madam Chizuru, slid open the door, and shut himself inside the cell. He stood still for a moment, looking around, absorbing impressions.

The slatted window shutters admitted misty daylight. New tatami covered the floor. Furniture stood undisturbed. But under the clean smell of soap, Sano detected the lingering taint of blood and vomit. In his mind he saw Harume lying on the floor, hideous in unnatural death. Her spirit seemed to infect the air. Although Sano hadn't known her, he got a sudden, vivid image of the living girl: bright-eyed, vivacious, with a merry laugh that echoed across the distance from the netherworld. A cold shiver rippled over him, as if he'd seen a ghost.

Shrugging off his fancy, Sano began a systematic search through the chests and cabinets. On his last visit, he'd been concerned mainly with finding the poison. Now, as he examined Lady Harume's belongings, he asked himself: Who was she? Who were her friends? What had mattered to her? What traits had she possessed, what things had she done that might have inspired murder?

Sano took a closer look at the kimonos he'd casually inspected before, laying them out on the floor. Two were cotton, much creased, with no sign of recent wear-she'd probably brought them to the castle with her, then rejected them in favor of the six expensive silk ones, which she must have received as a concubine. All the fabrics shared an extravagance of color and design, a lack of fashionable elegance. Sano contemplated the most striking example of Harume's taste: a summer garment whose garish yellow lilies and green ivy seemed to vibrate against a brilliant orange background.

The iron chest yielded a stack of papers tied with frayed string. Sano leafed through them, hoping to find personal letters, but they were merely old Kabuki theater programs and ill.u.s.trated broadsheets hawked by Edo newssellers. There was also a good-luck charm from the Hakka Temple in Asakusa-a prayer printed on cheap paper. Harume must have collected these things as souvenirs of holidays away from the castle. In drawers Sano discovered jars of face powder, rouge, and perfume, gaudy sashes, and floral hair ornaments; playing cards; cheap knick-knacks; an old wooden doll with rope hair-probably a childhood toy. Sano sighed in frustration. There were nothing here to indicate Harume had been anything but a common young woman with no intellectual interests or special relationships. Why would anyone have wanted to kill such a nonent.i.ty?

Perhaps Magistrate Ueda's theory was correct, and the murderer's real target had been her unborn child and the Tokugawa line. Unless Harume's parents supplied new leads, the investigation into her background was a dead end.

Then, as Sano replaced items in the cabinet, he picked up a blue silk purse with embroidered white peonies and a red drawstring. There was a bulge inside. Opening the purse, Sano removed a folded square of unbleached muslin. Curious, he unfolded it. Inside was a wad of black hair and three fingernails, apparently pried off the flesh, with dead skin around the edges. Revulsion twisted Sano's mouth. He didn't remember Harume's corpse missing any nails, and surely Dr. Ito would have noticed during the examination. Where had Harume gotten the grisly relics, and for what purpose?

A possible answer occurred to Sano, but it seemed incongruous, and he didn't see how his discovery related to the murder. Rewrapping the muslin around the nails and hair, he replaced them in the purse, which he tucked inside the drawstring pouch at his waist for later contemplation. Then he began a meticulous reinspection of Lady Harume's other possessions. What other evidence might he have missed?

When he was refolding the orange lilies-and-ivy kimono, its right sleeve crackled under his touch. Part of the sleeve's hem felt stiffer than the rest. Folding it back, Sano saw loose threads where the st.i.tching had been cut away. Excitement stirred in him. He inserted his hand into the hem and removed a folded sheet of thin paper. Tiny pink petals embedded in the paper gave it a feminine air, as did the faint scent of perfume and the spidery calligraphy that covered one side. Sano carried the letter over to the window and read: You do not love me. Much as I try to believe otherwise, I cannot blind myself to the truth any longer. You smile and say all the right things because I command your obedience. But when I touch you, your body stiffens with distaste. When we are together, your eyes get a distant look, as if you would rather be elsewhere. When I speak, you do not really listen.

Is there someone you care for more than me? Alas! My spirit sickens with jealousy. But I must know: Who is it that has captured your affection?

Sometimes I feel like throwing myself at your feet and begging for your love. Other times I want to strike you for denying my soul's desire. Woe is me! If I committed seppuku, I would not have to endure this misery!

But I do not want to die. What I really want is to see you suffer as I do. I could stab you and watch the blood run out. I could poison you and delight in your agony. As you plead for mercy, I will only laugh and say: "This is how it feels!"

If you won't love me, I will kill you!

The letter bore neither date nor salutation, but the signature seemed to rise up off the page and fill Sano's vision. Dread settled upon him like the dense, cold weight of a heavy snow that had fallen on Edo several winters ago, collapsing roofs and blocking streets. The writer of the letter was Lady Keisho-in.

This new clue turned the murder case in a different, perilous direction. Sano saw how wrong he'd been to think he'd accurately a.s.sessed the scope of the investigation. Here was proof that the shogun's mother's relationship with Harume had been more than just one mistress and attendant. During the interview with Keisho-in, her expressions of maternal fondness for Harume had been pure deception. Sano had thought the old woman stupid, yet she'd tricked him by concealing her destructive rage toward Lady Harume. Now Keisho-in joined the array of murder suspects.

The letter established her motive, in her own, handwritten words. As ruler of the Large Interior, she had access to all the women's rooms and spies to keep her informed on every aspect of their lives. She could have seen the ink jar when it arrived at Edo Castle, read the accompanying letter, and recognized a perfect opportunity to kill Harume and have someone else blamed for the murder. She had servants to seek out rare poisons, and the wealth to purchase them. Between these factors and the letter, Sano had enough evidence to warrant a serious investigation of Lady Keisho-in-and perhaps even a murder charge against her.

Sano could see an additional reason why Lady Keisho-in might have wanted Harume dead-a motive even stronger than embittered love. Keisho-in must have known about Harume's pregnancy, which held special ramifications for her. Now the case against Lieutenant Kushida, the Miyagi, and Lady Ichiteru diminished in comparative significance. But the evidence in Sano's hand possessed the dangerous. power of a double-edged blade. It opened a whole new line of inquiry, which might provide the truth about Lady Harume's murder and spare Sano the death penalty for failing to solve the case. But following the lead could ruin him anyway.

Sano didn't even want to think about what could happen, and wished he'd never found the letter. If only he'd limited his attention to the previous suspects and evidence, and never learned about Keisho-in's unhappy love affair with Harume! Perhaps she was innocent. By omitting her from his investigation, Sano could save himself. Slowly he began to tear the letter in two.

Yet honor would not let him evade the truth. Justice must be served, even at the cost of his own life. Reluctantly Sano folded the letter and tucked it inside his pouch with the purse of fingernails and hair clippings.

He would postpone dealing with the doc.u.ment for as long as possible. But sooner or later, unless he found conclusive evidence against Lieutenant Kushida, Lady Ichiteru, the Miyagi, or someone else, deal with it he must.

20.