"My cousin Eri told me this morning about a rumor that's circulating around the castle. Apparently the shogun's mother had an affair with Harume that ended badly. Everyone says she wrote a letter to Harume, threatening to kill her, and therefore, Lady Keisho-in is the murderer.

I don't know if there really is such a letter, or if it means she's guilty. But my husband's other prime suspect-Lieutenant Kushida-has disappeared. He's under a lot of pressure to solve the case. If he hears the rumor and finds the letter, he may decide to charge Lady Keisho-in with poisoning Harume. But what if he's wrong, and she's innocent?

"He'll be executed for treason. And I, as his wife, will die with him." Clenching her hands in her lap, Reiko tried to subdue her fear. "I can't depend on my husband to find the real killer, or to protect me. Haven't I the right to save my own life?"

The koto music took a brighter turn, and Sensei f.u.kuzawa nodded. "Knowing that a former pupil is in danger, I would gladly help. Let me see..." As he played, he contemplated a pleasure boat drifting on Lotus Pond. Then he sighed and shook his head.

"It is no use. When one is my age, recent events blur in one's memory, while those of thirty years ago are as clear as water. I could re-create every note of my first performance, but as for the month I spent at Edo Castle-" He shrugged in sad resignation. "The ladies and I had many conversations during their lessons. Quarrels often arose between them, and women do gossip constantly; however, I can't think of anything they said or did that seemed out of the ordinary. Nor do I recall meeting Lady Harume. Certainly I had no premonition of her death."

He added, "I am sorry. It seems you've gone to much trouble for nothing. Please forgive me."

"That's all right, it's not your fault," Reiko said, hiding her disappointment and knowing that she herself was to blame for it. In her youthful arrogance, she'd formed an exaggerated notion of her detective abilities and the value of her contacts. Now reality stripped her of delusion.

She'd used her last lead, to no avail. She would neither solve the murder case nor save her life. True, she'd discovered Lady Ichiteru's quarrel with Harume, and that Lieutenant Kushida had been in Harume's room shortly before the murder. Yet this evidence hadn't led to a conviction. Reiko's unhappiness turned to anger at herself and her s.e.x. She was nothing but a worthless female who might as well go home and sew until the soldiers came to take her to the execution ground!

And beneath the anger seethed a disturbing mixture of contrary emotions. Though Reiko regretted that she couldn't prove her superiority to Sano by beating him at his own game, she realized that she'd also wanted to please him by finding Lady Harume's killer. She wanted him to like and respect her. Even as defeat shamed her, she rued the lost hope of love.

Suddenly the koto music ended on a dissonant chord. "Wait a moment," Sensei f.u.kuzawa said. "I do remember something after all. It was so peculiar; how could I have forgotten?" He clucked in irritation at his bad memory, and Reiko's spirits rose anew. "I saw someone in the Large Interior who shouldn't have been there. It happened... let me see... I believe it was two days ago."

"But Lady Harume was already dead by then," Reiko said. Again her hopes plummeted. "You couldn't have seen the murderer come to poison the ink. Unless-are you absolutely sure of the time?"

"For once I am, because it was a memorable occasion. I was finishing my last lesson before leaving Edo Castle and embarking on my pilgrimage, when I felt an attack of diarrhea and cramps coming on. I rushed to the privy. It was when I went back to the music room that I saw him in the corridor. Even if he had nothing to do with the murder, there is definitely something strange going on at the castle. I should have reported the incident, but didn't. Perhaps if I tell you what happened, and you think it's important, you could inform your husband so he can take appropriate action."

"Who was it that you saw?" Reiko said. Perhaps the killer had revisited the crime scene.

"The No actor Shichisaburo."

Reiko was disconcerted. "Chamberlain Yanagisawa's lover? But he is not a suspect. And how did he get inside the Large Interior? Even if he managed to slip past the sentries, wouldn't the palace guards have thrown him out?"

"I doubt whether anyone recognized him besides me," said the old musician, "because he was disguised as a young woman, wearing a lady's kimono and a long wig. Shichisaburo often plays females on stage-he's adept at imitating their manners. He looked like he belonged in the Large Interior. The corridors are dim, and he was careful to keep his face averted."

"Then how did you know it was him?"

Sensei f.u.kuzawa chuckled. "I have spent many years performing musical accompaniments for the theater. I've watched hundreds of actors. A man impersonating a woman always betrays his true s.e.x in some small way that goes unnoticed by audiences. But my eye is sharp. Not even the best onnagata can fool me. In Shichisaburo's case, it was his stride. Because a male's body is denser than a female's, his steps were a bit too heavy for a woman of his size. I immediately said to myself, 'That's a boy, not a girl!' "

Alarm flared in Reiko as she glimpsed a possible explanation for this subterfuge. If what she suspected was true, then how fortunate that she'd found such an astute observer as Sensei f.u.kuzawa! Perhaps she could prove her worth as a detective and save her life at the same time. Through her excitement, she got a firm grip on her objectivity, wanting to make sure she was right before drawing conclusions.

"How can you be positive it was Shichisaburo and not some other man, if you didn't see his face?" she asked.

"Shichisaburo's family is an ancient, venerable clan of actors," Sensei f.u.kuzawa said. "Over generations, they've developed signature techniques for the stage-un.o.btrusive gestures and inflections that are recognized only by experts on No drama. I've watched Shichisaburo perform. When he turned the corner ahead of me, I saw him lift the hem of the robe off the floor in the manner invented by his grandfather, for whom I often played musical scores."

Sensei f.u.kuzawa demonstrated, gathering the skirt of his own kimono between thumb and two fingers, with the others curled into the palm. "It was definitely Shichisaburo."

"What did he do?" Reiko forced the words through the anxiety that compressed her lungs.

"I was curious, so I followed him at a distance. He looked around to check if anyone was watching, but he didn't notice me-bad eyesight runs in his family, though they're all trained to act as if they can see just fine. He walked straight to Lady Keisho-in's chambers. There were no guards stationed outside, as there have been on occasions when I've played for the shogun's mother. No one else was around, either. Shichisaburo went inside without knocking, and stayed for some moments. I waited around the corner. When he came out again, he was hiding something inside his sleeve. I heard the rustle of paper."

Reiko thought of Shichisaburo's connection with Chamberlain Yanagisawa, her husband's enemy. She recalled Yanagisawa's rumored attempts to a.s.sa.s.sinate Sano, to destroy his reputation and undermine his influence with the shogun. Her suspicions gained substance. Had Yanagisawa bribed Lady Keisho-in's guards to desert their posts? In a turmoil of fear and antic.i.p.ation, she said, "And then what?"

"Shichisaburo hurried through the women's quarters. I barely managed to keep up with him. He slipped into a chamber at the end of a pa.s.sage."

Lady Harume's room, Reiko thought. Dread and elation dizzied her as she considered the political climate surrounding the murder: the imperiled succession; the jealousies and power struggles; the rumors about Lady Keisho-in. Shichisaburo's clandestine visit linked these elements of the case in a pattern that signaled catastrophe.

"I put my ear to the wall," Sensei f.u.kuzawa continued. "I heard Shichisaburo rummaging around inside. When he came out, he was empty-handed. I meant to confront him, but unfortunately, I felt the diarrhea coming on again. Shichisaburo vanished. My illness prevented me from immediately reporting what I'd seen, and later I was so busy finishing my lessons and bidding farewell to the ladies that I forgot all about it."

The last piece of the puzzle brought the whole pattern into deadly focus. Reiko leapt to her feet.

"Is something wrong, child?" The old music teacher's forehead wrinkled with confusion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, Sensei f.u.kuzawa, but I must leave at once. This is a matter of extreme urgency!"

Bowing, Reiko hastily made her farewell. She fled down the hill and jumped into the waiting palanquin. "Take me back to Edo Castle," she ordered the bearers. "And hurry!"

There was no doubt in her mind that Sano would investigate the rumors about Lady Keisho-in, and find supporting evidence. Honor and duty would compel him to charge her with murder, regardless of the consequences. Reiko alone knew that Sano was in grave danger. Only she could save him-and herself-from disgrace and death. She must warn him before he stepped into the trap. Yet as Reiko sat forward in the palanquin, willing it to move faster, a new fear penetrated her consciousness.

If she succeeded, would Sano appreciate what she'd done? Or would her defiance destroy any chance of love between them?

30.

With Lady Ichiteru's testimony, the letter, the diary, and Harume's father's statement, there's too much evidence against Lady Keisho-in to ignore," Sano told Hirata. "We can't delay interrogating her any longer. And Priest Ryuko is the right size and shape to match the description of the man who stabbed Choyei."

Sano had already described discovering the drug peddler and the unsuccessful search for his killer. He'd also told Hirata about taking the materials from Choyei's room to Dr. Ito, who had found the poison there. They walked through the twilight streets of Edo Castle's Official Quarter, bound for the palace. Roofs were peaked black silhouettes against a sky that deepened from fading blue overhead to salmon above the western hills. Wispy red clouds smeared the heavens like streaks of blood. The cold breathed from stone walls and settled into the bones. Sano carried Harume's diary, with Lady Keisho-in's letter folded inside.

He said, "This is just an interview, to get Keisho-in and Ryuko's side of the story. It's not a formal accusation of murder."

Yet they both knew that Keisho-in and Ryuko might interpret the confrontation as a murder charge and take offense, then countercharge Sano and Hirata with treason. It would be the couple's word against theirs-with the shogun the ultimate judge. What were the chances of Tokugawa Tsunayoshi siding with them instead of with his beloved mother?

Sano imagined the cold shadow of the executioner falling over him, the long blade outlined against the barren ground where traitors died. And Reiko would see it with him... Nausea gripped his stomach. Hirata didn't appear to feel any better. His skin had an unhealthy pallor, and he kept blinking. Oddly, he'd been in bed asleep when Sano arrived home. Though groggy and disoriented when roused, Hirata had insisted he was fine. After relaying what he'd learned from Lady Ichiteru, he hadn't said a word, and tried to avoid Sano's gaze. Sano pitied Hirata; the concubine's news had been a bad shock, and he probably blamed himself for the evidence that had forced their hand.

"Everything will be all right," Sano said, as much to rea.s.sure himself as Hirata.

Upon entering Lady Keisho-in's chamber, Sano and Hirata found the shogun's mother and her priest settled on cushions in the lantern-lit parlor. They wore matching purple satin dressing gowns stamped with gold chrysanthemums. Both color and flower were normally reserved for the use of the imperial family. The empress and emperor of j.a.pan, Sano thought, recalling what Lady Ichiteru had said about the couple's ambitions. A quilt covered their legs and the square frame of a charcoal brazier. Around them were spread dishes of soup, pickles, vegetables, quail eggs, fried prawns, dried fruit, and a whole steamed fish, a sake decanter, and a tea urn. Lady Keisho-in was munching a prawn. Ryuko had just dealt out a game of cards. He set down the pack as Sano and Hirata knelt and bowed, his eyes wary.

Licking her greasy fingers, Lady Keisho-in said, "How nice to see you again, Sosakan Sano. And your a.s.sistant, too." She batted eyes at Hirata, who stared at the floor. "May I offer you some refreshment?"

"Thank you, but we've already eaten," Sano lied politely. The odors of fish and garlic sickened him; he could not have swallowed food.

"A drink, then?"

"I don't think the sosakan-sama is here on a social visit, my lady," Ryuko said. He turned to Sano. "What can we do for you?"

Although Sano had met Ryuko during religious ceremonies, they'd never done more than exchange greetings, but he knew the priest's reputation. The cozy atmosphere confirmed the rumors about his intimate relationship with Keisho-in. Meeting Ryuko's shrewd gaze, Sano understood that he was the motivating intelligence behind her power. The discovery didn't cheer Sano. His main argument in favor of Lady Keisho-in's innocence was her good-natured stupidity. However, with Ryuko as a confederate, she wouldn't have to be evil or smart to commit murder.

"Please forgive the intrusion, Honorable Lady, but I must speak to you about Harume."

"Haven't we already done that?" Lady Keisho-in frowned in confusion. "I don't know what more I can say."

She looked to Ryuko for help, but he was gazing at the diary in Sano's hand. An unnatural stillness of expression masked whatever he thought or felt.

"Some matters have recently come to my attention," Sano said. With the sense of crossing a line between safe ground and battlefield, he said, "What was your relationship with Harume?"

Shrugging, Keisho-in stuffed a radish pickle into her mouth. "I liked her very much."

"You were friends, then?" Sano asked.

"Why, yes, of course."

"More than friends?"

"Just what exactly are you asking?" Priest Ryuko interjected.

Ignoring him, Sano said, "This is Harume's diary." He untied the binding cord and read the hidden words of erotic love, emphasizing the final pa.s.sage: "But alas! Your rank and fame endanger us.

We can never walk together in daylight.

Yet love is eternal; you are mine forever, as I am yours, In spirit, though not in marriage."

"Did Harume write that to you, Lady Keisho-in?" Sano asked.

Keisho-in's mouth fell open, revealing an ugly mush of chewed food. "Impossible!"

"The reference to rank and fame fits you," Sano said.

"But the pa.s.sage doesn't mention Lady Keisho-in by name," Ryuko cut in smoothly. "Did Harume say anywhere in the diary that they were lovers?"

"No," Sano admitted.

"Then she must have been writing about someone else." Ryuko's voice remained suavely calm, but he withdrew his legs from beneath the quilt, as if he was too warm.

"Shortly before Harume died," Sano said, "she begged her father to remove her from Edo Castle. She said she was afraid of someone. Was it you, Lady Keisho-in?"

"Preposterous!" Keisho-in chewed a rice ball angrily. Was her response genuine, or an act? "I showed Harume nothing but kindness and affection."

"My lady doesn't like what you're implying, sosakan-sama." A warning note edged Ryuko's voice. "If you have any sense, you will leave now, before she decides to express her displeasure through official channels."

The threat was no less of a blow for being expected. Had Sano been interviewing just Lady Keisho-in, he might have subtly ascertained her innocence or extracted a confession without open confrontation. But Ryuko was forcing the issue. He would never let his patroness admit to murder, because he would share her punishment. He would protect his own skin by attacking Sano... especially if he'd conspired to murder the shogun's unborn heir. Inwardly Sano cursed his truth-seeking nature, which doomed him to build his own funeral pyre. But he couldn't change the demands of duty and honor. Resigned, he took out the letter.

"Tell me if you recognize this, Lady Keisho-in," Sano said, and read: " 'You do not love me. Much as I try to believe otherwise, I cannot blind myself to the truth any longer.' "

As he voiced the pained recriminations, jealous pa.s.sion, and pleas for Harume's love, Sano periodically checked his audience's reaction. Keisho-in's eyes grew wider and wider, her face haggard with shock. Ryuko's expression turned from incredulity to dismay. They looked the picture of criminals caught in the act. Sano felt little satisfaction. A conviction of Lady Keisho-in would be hard to get from a judicial system controlled by her son; the price of trying could be Sano's life.

'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 will not love me, I will kill you!' "

Silence. Lady Keisho-in and Priest Ryuko sat paralyzed. The charcoal fumes, the food odors, and the room's stifling heat enclosed Sano, Hirata, and the two conspirators in a nauseating pall.

Then Keisho-in began to cough, clutching her throat. "Help!" she gasped out.

Ryuko pounded her back. "Water!" he commanded. "She's choking on her food!"

Hirata leapt up. From a ceramic jar he poured water into a cup for the priest, who held it to Keisho-in's lips. "Drink, my lady," Ryuko urged.

Her face reddened; her eyes teared as she retched and wheezed. She gulped the water, drooling it onto her robe.

Ryuko glared at Sano. "Look what you've done."

Remaining in his place, Sano recalled how Keisho-in had swooned upon hearing that Harume had been murdered. Had that been an act intended to hide the fact that she already knew? Was this a clever diversion, or true distress?

Keisho-in lay back on the cushions, inhaling and exhaling with exaggerated relief. Ryuko fanned her face. Sano said, "You wrote this letter to Harume. You threatened to kill her."

"No, no." Lady Keisho-in flapped her hands in weak protest.

"Where did you get that?" Priest Ryuko demanded. "Let me see it."

Sano held the letter up, safely out of the priest's reach-he didn't want the evidence to wind up in the charcoal brazier. "From Harume's room," he said.

The couple exclaimed simultaneously, "That cannot be!" Ryuko's face was ashen, his eyes filled with horror. Sitting up, Lady Keisho-in said, "I wrote that letter; yes, I admit it. But not to Harume. It was written to my dearest love, who is right here!" Feebly she clutched Ryuko's arm.

It was a crafty explanation, which Keisho-in's choking spell had no doubt given her time to concoct. Ryuko recovered quickly, too. "My lady is telling the truth," he said. "Whenever she feels that I'm not attentive enough, she gets angry and expresses her complaints in letters. Sometimes she threatens to kill me, though she doesn't really mean it. I received that letter some months ago. As usual, we made up, and I returned it to her."

"Yes, yes, that's right," Lady Keisho-in said.

The priest had himself under control now, yet Sano could see fear behind his level gaze. "There is nothing in that letter to prove it was written to Harume," Ryuko said. "You've made a mistake, sosakan-sama."

"There's nothing to prove it was written to you, either," Sano countered. "And I found it hidden in the sleeve of Harume's kimono. How do you explain that?"

"She-she must have stolen it from my chambers," Keisho-in blurted. She was less adept at concealing emotion than Ryuko, her panic obvious in her audible, rapid breaths. "Yes, that must be what happened."

"Why would she do that?" Sano said, unconvinced. The couple stared at him in speechless confusion. The distinctive odor of fear- sweat laced with honey-permeated the room. Sano knew it came from himself and Hirata as well as Keisho-in and Ryuko. He delivered the final, d.a.m.ning piece of evidence. "We have a witness who overheard you conspiring to murder Harume and her unborn child so that His Excellency would remain shogun for the rest of his life and you would retain your influence over him."

"That's a lie!" Keisho-in exclaimed. "I could never do such a horrible thing, and neither could my dearest!"

"What witness?" demanded Ryuko. Then comprehension cleared the bewilderment from his face. Anger tightened his jaw. "It was Ichiteru, that scheming wh.o.r.e who seeks to replace my lady as the mother of j.a.pan's dictator. She probably lied about us because she killed Harume herself." Glaring at Sano, he said, "And you want to frame us for murder so that you can control the shogun. You forged the so-called diary, planted the letter, and paid Harume's father to cast suspicion upon my lady."

Despair stole over Sano. This, then, would be Keisho-in and Ryuko's defense against his accusations. No doubt it would sound eminently reasonable to the undiscerning Tokugawa Tsunayoshi. "Granted, Harume had access to your quarters," Sano said, "but you also had access to hers. Did you poison the ink, Lady Keisho-in?"

"No. No!" The words came out in a squeaky whisper; Keisho-in's face blanched, and she clutched her chest.

"My lady, what's wrong?" Ryuko said.

"Where were you today between the hour of the snake and noon?" Sano asked him.