During the ten years of Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's reign, a fortune had been squandered on the building and upkeep of these inst.i.tutions; on food, clothing, and servants for the priests; on extravagant religious ceremonies and public charity. Priest Ryuko, acting through Lady Keisho-in, had convinced the shogun that the expenditure would bring good fortune. But Yanagisawa saw a better use for the money and property. He would expel the clergy and take over the temples, staffing them with men loyal to him. The sites would become his power bases in the provinces. He would establish himself as a shadow ruler-a second shogun, commanding a bakufu within the bakufu. For his headquarters he chose Kannei Temple, situated in the hilly Ueno district north of Edo. He'd always liked its halls and pavilions, its beautiful pond and spring cherry blossoms. Soon it would be his private palace.

Pushing in a gold pin to mark his territory, Yanagisawa chuckled. The first thing he'd do once he took possession of Kannei Temple would be to host a huge party to celebrate the execution of the traitor Sano Ichiro. Already he tasted the exhilaration of being free of his rival, secure in his unlimited power. He could almost feel grateful to Sano for unwittingly making everything possible!

Dreams of triumph restored the equilibrium that Shichisaburo's declaration of love had upset. Cradling the box of pins in his palm, Yanagisawa looked ahead to a future where the old hurts and needs of his past no longer mattered.

At the sound of a knock at the door, his heart leapt. A tingle of antic.i.p.ation vibrated within him. "Come in," Yanagisawa called, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. The news had come. The future was here.

Instead of a messenger, in walked Priest Ryuko, saffron robe flowing, brocade stole glittering, an insolent smile on his face. "Good day, Honorable Chamberlain," he said, bowing. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"What do you want?" Yanagisawa's disappointment turned to anger. He hated the upstart priest who had parlayed an affair with a foolish old woman into a position of influence. Ryuko was a leech, sucking up Tokugawa wealth and privilege while hiding his ambitions under a cloak of piety. As much a rival for power as Sano, he was a major part of the reason Yanagisawa wanted Lady Keisho-in gone.

Ignoring the question, Ryuko strolled around the room, looking at everything with great interest. "You have a most attractive office." Inspecting the alcove, he said, "A four-hundred-year-old Chinese vase from the Sung dynasty, and a scroll by Enkai, one of j.a.pan's master calligraphers." Ryuko examined the furniture. "Teak chests and lacquer cabinets from the days of the Fujiwara regime." He fingered the tea service on Yanagisawa's desk. "Koryu celadon. Very nice." Opening the blinds, he beheld the garden of moss-covered boulders and raked sand paths. "And a most beautiful view."

"What do you think you're doing?" Furious, Yanagisawa stalked over to the intruder. "Get out of here. Now!"

Priest Ryuko trailed his fingers over the silk embroidery of a folding screen. "I need an office in the palace. Lady Keisho-in has told me to choose whichever room I like. Yours shall do very well."

Such unbelievable audacity! "You, take my office?" Chamberlain Yanagisawa said with an incredulous laugh. "Never!" Someone was going to pay for this affront. Yanagisawa would punish his staff for letting Ryuko in, then begin a campaign to persuade the shogun to banish him. "And take your hands off that screen!" Seizing Ryuko's arm, he shouted, "Guards!"

Then he gasped as the priest's fingers locked his wrist in a bruising grip. Smiling straight into the chamberlain's eyes, Ryuko said, "It didn't work."

"What?" An unsettling sensation crept through Yanagisawa, as if his internal organs were shifting position.

"Your plot to frame my lady and destroy the sosakan-sama." Gloating in triumph, Ryuko spoke with slow, exaggerated clarity, driving home his point while relishing Yanagisawa's dismay: "It-did-not-work."

He explained how a music teacher had seen Shichisaburo sneaking around the Large Interior; how the sosakan-sama's wife had deduced that the actor had planted false evidence; how the news had arrived just in time to prevent Sano from making an official murder charge against Lady Keisho-in. As Ryuko's spiteful voice went on and on, Yanagisawa's surroundings seemed to recede in a tide of shock and nausea. The lacquer box fell from his hand. Pins scattered across the floor.

In a desperate attempt to dissemble, Chamberlain Yanagisawa said haughtily, "Your story is absurd. I have no idea what you're talking about. How dare you accuse me, you avaricious parasite?"

Ryuko laughed. "It takes one to know one, Honorable Chamberlain. And the truth is written all over you." Looking at the map, he sneered. "You might as well forget about any schemes to take over the country." He began yanking out pins, tossing them on the floor with the others. "Sosakan Sano and Lady Keisho-in have resolved the misunderstanding caused by your trick. Soon the shogun will hear of your heinous attack against his mother and favorite retainer." The priest's desire to gloat had apparently overcome any misgivings about serving advance notice on Yanagisawa. "His Excellency shall come to recognize your true character at last."

Removing the coral pin from Hachijo, Ryuko said, "I can guess whom you planned to send there." He took Yanagisawa's hand and placed the pin ceremoniously in his palm. "Here. You can trade this bauble for food and shelter when you arrive on the Island of Exile."

Horror rendered Yanagisawa Chamberlain speechless. How could his clever plot have backfired so horribly? Fear turned his bowels to rice gruel. Finding his voice, he shouted, "Guards!"

Footsteps pounded the corridor. Two soldiers entered. Yanagisawa pointed at Ryuko. "Get him out of here!"

The soldiers moved to seize the priest, but Ryuko sailed past them toward the door, saying over his shoulder, "I shan't outstay my welcome." Then he paused and turned. "I just wanted you to know what's going to happen to you," he said, puffed up with his own moral superiority. "This way you can suffer a little longer for trying to harm my lady."

With the guards following, Priest Ryuko strode out of the room. The door slammed. For a moment, Yanagisawa stared after the harbinger of evil. Then he crouched on the tatami, arms wrapped around his knees. He felt himself shrinking into the miserable little boy he'd once been. Again his back ached from the blows of his father's wooden pole. The sharp voice echoed down through the years: "You're stupid, weak, incompetent, pitiful... You bring nothing but disgrace to this family!"

Yanagisawa breathed the desolate atmosphere of his youth-that amalgam of rain, decaying wood, drafty rooms, and tears. Now the past had caught up with the present. Ghastly scenarios crowded Yanagisawa's mind.

He saw Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's face, pinched with hurt and anger; heard him say, "After all I've given you, how could you treat me this way? Exile is too good for you, and so is ritual suicide. For your treasonous act against my family, I sentence you to execution!"

He felt iron shackles lock around his wrists and ankles. Soldiers dragged him to the execution ground. A jeering horde threw rocks and garbage, while his enemies applauded. Gawkers surrounded him as the soldiers forced him to kneel beside the executioner. Nearby waited the wooden frame on which his corpse would be displayed at the Nihonbashi Bridge. Chamberlain Yanagisawa realized that his father's prediction had come true: his stupidity and incompetence had brought him to the ultimate disgrace, the punishment he deserved.

And the last thing he saw before the sword severed his head was Sano Ichiro, j.a.pan's new chamberlain, standing in the place of honor at Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's right.

Hatred for Sano seared Yanagisawa like a red-hot skewer twisted through his innards, rousing him from his paralysis. Anger flooded him like a healing tonic. With great relief, he felt himself expand to fill his adult persona and the world that his intelligence and strength had created. He surged to his feet. He didn't have to yield to Sano, Lady Keisho-in, or Ryuko. He wouldn't give up life without a fight, as his brother Yoshihiro had. Chamberlain Yanagisawa paced the room. Action restored his sense of power. Now he focused all his energy on solving his problem.

Sabotaging the murder investigation was the least of Yanagisawa's concerns, although he still hoped Sano would fail and disgrace himself. Instead Yanagisawa devised a strategy for combating Sano and Lady Keisho-in's retaliation. Again the plan would accomplish a double purpose. Again it would involve Shichisaburo.

The actor had ruined Chamberlain Yanagisawa's first brilliant scheme. Yanagisawa regretted becoming so entangled with him. He should have discarded the boy long ago; he should never have let infatuation blind him to the danger of using an amateur instead of a professional agent. In a rare moment of honesty, he acknowledged his mistake. Pathetically hungry for love, smitten with the actor, he'd suffered a fatal lapse of judgment. The howling emptiness still yawned within him; he teetered on the brink. His own weakness and need were his greatest enemies.

Then Chamberlain Yanagisawa placed the blame where it truly belonged: on the inept, nave Shichisaburo, whom he despised almost as much as he did Sano. Relief sealed the abyss. This time his plan would work. A perfect expression of his genius, it would save him, while ending his disastrous relationship with the actor. His dream of ruling j.a.pan, though deferred, was still possible.

Yanagisawa's breath came in gasps, as if he'd just fought a battle; exhaustion weakened him. But his smile returned as he gathered up the scattered pins and replaced them on the map.

36.

On his way to see Lady Harume's secret lover, Sano stopped at Edo Jail. The eta settlement was unfamiliar territory to him, and he needed a guide who could introduce him to Chief Danzaemon. Mura, a.s.sistant to Dr. Ito, was the only eta Sano knew. They traveled to Nihonbashi's northern outskirts, Sano on horseback and Mura walking behind him. Beyond the last scattered houses of Edo proper, they traversed an expanse of weed-infested wasteland where stray dogs foraged through piles of trash. On the opposite side was the eta settlement, a sprawling village of huts surrounded by a wooden fence.

Mura led the way through a gate that consisted of a gap in the rough plank fence, then down narrow, crooked lanes awash in mud. Beside these ran open gutters full of reeking sewage. The houses were tiny shacks a.s.sembled from sc.r.a.p wood and paper. In the doorways, women cooked over open fires, scrubbed laundry, or nursed babies. Children ran barefoot. Everyone gaped, then dropped to their knees as Sano pa.s.sed: Probably they'd never seen a bakufu official enter their community. Clouds of smoke and steam billowed over the settlement, creating a foul miasma that stank of decaying flesh. Sano tried not to breathe. He'd eaten a hasty meal before leaving Asakusa, but now, as nausea gripped his stomach, he wished he hadn't.

"It's the tanneries, master," Mura said apologetically.

Sano hoped he could hide his distaste for the settlement when he questioned its chief. Such different worlds Lady Harume and her lover had inhabited!

Following Mura down a dim pa.s.sage, Sano looked into a courtyard. A lye pond full of carca.s.ses bubbled. Men stirred it with sticks, while women sprinkled salt on freshly flayed hides. Cauldrons steamed on open hearths; a partially butchered horse oozed blood and viscera. When a gust of wind wafted rancid fumes toward Sano, he nearly vomited. Feeling immersed in spiritual pollution, he resisted the urge to flee. How could Lady Harume have ignored society's taboos to love a man contaminated by this place? What had brought her and Danzaemon together "in the shadow between two existences"?

Mura halted. "There he is, master."

Toward Sano came three adult male eta, walking with brisk, purposeful strides. The middle, youngest one immediately drew his attention.

Thin as a sapling, his body carried no excess flesh to soften the hardness of bone and muscle. Strong tendons stood out like cords in his neck. Sharp-edged planes carved his face into a pattern of angles. His thin mouth was compressed in a resolute line. Thick, cropped hair grew back from a deep peak above his brow like a hawk's crest. Head high and shoulders squared, he projected an aura of fierce n.o.bility at odds with his patched, faded clothes and eta status. The two swords he wore proclaimed his ident.i.ty.

Danzaemon, chief of the outcasts, knelt and bowed. His two companions did the same, but while the gesture humbled them, Danzaemon's dignity elevated it to a ritual that honored himself as well as Sano. Arms outstretched, forehead to the ground, he said, "I beg to be of service, master." His quiet tone, while respectful, bore no obsequiousness.

"Please rise." Impressed by the chief's poise, which would have done a samurai proud, Sano dismounted and addressed Danzaemon politely. "I need your help in an important matter."

With athletic grace, Danzaemon stood. At his command, his men also rose, keeping their heads inclined. The eta chief turned a measuring gaze on Sano, who saw with surprise that he wasn't more than twenty-five years old. But Danzaemon's eyes belonged to someone who'd seen a lifetime of toil, poverty, violence, and suffering. A long, puckered scar down his left cheek bespoke his fight for survival in the harsh world of the outcasts. He was handsome in a tough, savage way, and Sano could see the appeal he'd held for Lady Harume.

Mura performed the introductions. Sano said, "I'm investigating the murder of the shogun's concubine Lady Harume, and I-"

At the mention of her name, instant awareness flashed in the eta chief's eyes: He knew why Sano had come. His men sprang to attention, unhooking clubs from their sashes. They evidently thought Sano had come to kill Danzaemon for violating the shogun's lady. Although the penalty for attacking a samurai was death, they were prepared to defend their leader.

Raising his hands in a gesture of entreaty, Sano said, "I'm not here to hurt anyone. I just need to ask Chief Danzaemon some questions."

"Stand back," Danzaemon ordered with the authority of a commanding general.

The men retreated, though Sano could still feel their hostility toward him, a member of the dreaded samurai cla.s.s. He faced Danzaemon. "Can we talk in private?"

"Yes, master. I'll do my best to a.s.sist you."

Danzaemon spoke in the same soft, respectful voice with which he'd greeted Sano. His speech was more cultured than Sano had expected, probably because of his contact with samurai officials. Now Sano found himself subjected to the eta chief's scrutiny. A kind of mutual scenting occurred, as if between two animals from different packs. A crowd of eta gathered to watch. Sano sensed in them a reverence for their leader that matched any his own people felt toward their lords. Looking at Danzaemon across the vast barrier created by cla.s.s and experience, Sano knew in a flash of intuition that under different circ.u.mstances, the two of them could have been comrades. Danzaemon's slight nod acknowledged that he realized it, too.

"You're the friend of Dr. Ito," he said. The statement sealed their understanding. "We can go to my house. It's nicer there." His manner conveyed a stoic acceptance of his squalid domain and Sano's authority over him.

"Yes. Please." Sano gave his relieved a.s.sent.

The house to which Danzaemon led Sano and Mura was larger and in better condition than the others. It had solid wooden walls, an intact roof, and untorn paper panes behind the window bars. Danzaemon's lieutenants stood sentry outside, while Mura tended Sano's horse. Inside the house, people of all ages, far too many for them all to be family members, filled the main room. A blind man and two cripples sat against the wall. Mothers cradled babies who looked too frail to live. Men awaited Danzaemon's counsel. A young pregnant woman pa.s.sed out bowls of soup. Upon Sano's arrival, all activity and conversation ceased. The adults prostrated themselves, and the mothers pressed the infants' small heads to the floor.

Danzaemon ushered Sano into a smaller, vacant room. Cheaply furnished but spotlessly clean, it held a desk, a chest, and open cupboards. One cupboard held folded bedding and clothes; the two others, full of ledgers and papers, suggested that the only literate member of his caste devoted more time to work than rest. The window overlooked a yard where men were butchering an ox. Evidently Danzaemon's clan supported itself by practicing a trade; he didn't abuse his position by extorting money from his people. Sano felt awed by the young chief's responsibilities. Did many samurai lords have more, or attend to them with any greater apparent dedication?

Perhaps Lady Harume had admired this trait as well as Danzaemon's looks and manner. Never before had Sano seen such strong proof that character transcended cla.s.s.

Danzaemon knelt on the mat. Sano took the spot opposite him. "You're here because you've found out about my relationship with Lady Harume," Danzaemon said without straining their relations by inviting a samurai to eat and drink with an eta. "Thank you for sparing my life. I've committed an inexcusable crime. I deserve to die, and it's your right to kill me." The eta chief's mouth thinned in a bitter smile. "But if you did, you wouldn't get the answers you want, would you?"

In spite of the young man's controlled tone and expression, Sano observed signs of grief: the bleakness in his eyes; lines of strain around his mouth. Danzaemon mourned Lady Harume as no one else did.

"Love may not be a good excuse for breaking the law," Sano said, "but it's a reason I can understand." He would do anything for Reiko, risk any danger, betray any other loyalty. "I won't punish you for loving unwisely. If you tell me about you and Lady Harume, I'll try to be fair."

The current of mutual empathy again flashed between them. Danzaemon inhaled a tremulous breath and released it in a shuddering sigh. Sano watched his need to speak of his lover warring with the reluctance to compromise himself and his people by saying something that might tax Sano's tolerance. Need triumphed over prudence.

"We met by chance. At a temple in Asakusa." Danzaemon spoke haltingly, looking down at his hands, clasped in his lap. "Even though a long time had pa.s.sed, I recognized her at once. And she recognized me."

"You knew each other before?"

"Yes. When we were children. My uncle used to take me to f.u.kagawa to gather sh.e.l.lfish on the beach every month. He met Harume's mother and became her client. We would go to her houseboat. While I waited for them to finish, Harume and I played together."

So he'd been correct in guessing that part of the solution to the mystery of Lady Harume's life lay in her past, Sano thought. Blue Apple, the nighthawk prost.i.tute desperate enough to accept eta clients, had unwittingly set the course of her daughter's future.

A slight, tender smile curved Danzaemon's lips. "Harume was so small and pretty, but tough, too. She was six years younger than I, but not afraid of anything. I taught her to throw stones, fight with sticks, and swim. It never mattered to her that I was eta. We were like sister and brother. While I was with her, I could forget... everything else."

His hands turned palms up, as if accepting a burden-an eloquent gesture that conveyed the young boy's unhappy knowledge of his destiny. "Then Harume's mother died. She went to live with her father. I thought I would never see her again."

This was because Danzaemon was one of the low-cla.s.s companions from whom Jimba had separated Harume, Sano realized. Yet the horse dealer had not reckoned with the power of fate.

"When we met in the cemetery, at first it seemed as if no time had pa.s.sed at all," the eta chief continued. "We talked the way we did in f.u.kagawa. We were so glad to see each other." Then he uttered a humorless chuckle. "But of course everything was different. She was no longer a little girl, but a beautiful woman-and the shogun's concubine. I'm a grown man who should have known better than to go near her. But what we felt for each other was so sudden, and strong, and wonderful... When she said she had a room at an inn and asked me to go there with her, I couldn't refuse."

Sano marveled at the attraction so powerful that Harume and Danzaemon had courted death to consummate their desire. A centuries-old taboo, defeated by the even more ancient force of s.e.x.

"It wasn't only l.u.s.t," Danzaemon said, reading Sano's thoughts. He leaned forward, his sharp face alight with the wish to make Sano understand. "What I found with Harume was the same thing she gave me all those years ago: the chance to forget that I'm dirty and inferior, less than human; an object of disgust. When I held her, I felt like a different person. Clean. Whole." Looking away, he added sadly, "It was the only time I ever felt loved."

"Your people love you," Sano pointed out, wondering if Danzaemon's pa.s.sion had led to Harume's death.

With a pained grimace, the eta chief said, "That's not the same. My people are all contaminated with the same stigma as I. Underneath, we all despise one another the same way everyone else despises us."

Raw pain hoa.r.s.ened Danzaemon's voice, as if he were tearing all the unspoken thoughts of a lifetime from his soul. Probably he'd never met anyone else willing to hear, or capable of appreciating his insight. "Even my wife, whom I betrayed for Harume, can never give me what she did-the kind of love that eased my own self-hatred."

Sano hadn't known that the outcasts themselves embraced society's prejudice. This case had opened his eyes to the realities of worlds besides his own, and his own unwitting partic.i.p.ation in human misery.

"What did Lady Harume get from the affair?" he asked.

Anger flared in the eta chief's eyes, quickly extinguished by his formidable self-control. "I know it's hard for you to imagine that I could give her anything besides trouble. But she was so alone. Her father sold her to the shogun and considered himself well rid of her. The women in the castle snubbed her because she was the daughter of a prost.i.tute. She had no one to listen to her problems, to care how she felt, to love her. Except me. We were everything to each other."

Here Sano spied a possible motive for murder. "Did you know that Harume was meeting another man at the inn?"

"Lord Miyagi. Yes, I knew." Embarra.s.sment painted red slashes across Danzaemon's cheekbones. "He wanted to watch Harume pleasuring herself. She let him, then threatened to tell the shogun he'd violated her unless he paid her to keep quiet. She did it for me-she gave me all the money. I didn't want her doing something so risky and demeaning. I didn't want blackmail money. But she was hurt when I tried to refuse. She wanted so much to give me something and couldn't believe that her love was enough."

The eta chief shot Sano a defensive look. "I won't deny that I took the money to buy food and medicine for the settlement. If accepting a woman's ill-gotten gold makes me a criminal, then so be it."

He laughed, a single sharp note that spoke worlds of the humiliation he must battle daily in trying to better the lot of his people. Then he bowed his head in obvious shame at betraying his emotions. Even as Sano's heart went out to the young eta chief, he saw that Lady Harume had given Lord Miyagi a strong reason for wanting her dead. Sano thought of Reiko with the daimyo, and a chill crept through him. Resisting the impulse to hurry to his wife, he weighed Danzaemon's statement. Everything the eta had said resonated with honesty. He had truly loved Harume, sincerely regretted her death. But was there a darker side to the story?

Sano said, "Lady Harume was pregnant."

Danzaemon's head snapped up. Shock paled the surface of his gaze like a sheet of ice over deep water.

"You didn't know, then," Sano said.

Closing his eyes briefly, the eta chief said, "No. She never told me. But I should have known it could happen. Merciful G.o.ds." Horror muted his voice to a whisper. "Our child died with her."

"You're sure it was yours?"

"She told me that the shogun couldn't... and Lord Miyagi never touched her. There was no one else but me." Danzaemon added, "I have two sons, and my wife..." Sano remembered the pregnant woman he'd seen in the outer room-proof of Danzaemon's potency. "I suppose it's just as well that the child didn't live to be born."

For the sake of the investigation, Sano couldn't accept at face value the apparently genuine sorrow of the eta chief, whose survival skills must surely include the ability to deceive. "If the child had been born, and been male, the shogun would have claimed it as his heir and made Lady Harume his consort. She would have been in a position to give you much more than just blackmail money from Lord Miyagi. And your son could have become the next ruler of j.a.pan."

"You can't be serious." Scorn tinged Danzaemon's gaze. "That could never have happened. You found out about Harume and me; eventually someone else would have. There would have been a scandal. The shogun would never accept the child of an eta as his own. It would have been killed along with us."

"Is that why you poisoned Lady Harume? To end her pregnancy, avert the scandal, and save yourself?"

Danzaemon blinked, as if stunned by the conversation's unexpected turn. Then he leapt to his feet, protesting, "I didn't poison Harume! I told you how I felt about her. I didn't know about the child. And even if I had, I would sooner have killed myself than them!"

"Kneel!" Sano ordered.

The pupils of his eyes pinpointed with fury, the eta chief obeyed. Sano had no doubt about which man to whom Harume had pledged her love. That Danzaemon also knew this, Sano could tell from the expression of defeat that came over his face. He had motive for Harume's murder, and she'd died tattooing herself for him.

"Think what you will," Danzaemon said. "Arrest me if you want. Torture a confession out of me. But I didn't kill Harume." Defiant conviction lifted his chin and burned in his eyes. "You'll never be able to prove I did."

And there lay the fatal weakness in Sano's case against Danzaemon. According to the results of his detectives' inquiries, the ink jar had not been tampered with along the way from the Miyagi estate to Edo Castle. Therefore, the ink had to have been poisoned at one end of the journey or the other, where no eta could ever go. Danzaemon had had no opportunity to commit the murder.

"I know you didn't poison Harume," Sano said. "Now I want your help." Danzaemon regarded him warily. "You said Harume talked to you. Can you remember anything she said that might tell us who killed her?"

"Since I heard the news of her death, I've gone over every conversation we had, looking for answers. There was another concubine who was cruel to Harume, and a palace guard who annoyed her."

"Lady Ichiteru and Lieutenant Kushida are already suspects," Sano said. "Was there anyone else?"

"The a.s.sa.s.sin who threw a dagger at Harume."

"She told you about that?"