Abruptly, the party halted at a marketplace that crowded the avenue. Yoriki Hoshina said, "I apologize for the inconvenience. You've arrived on the first day of Obon."

This was the Festival of the Dead, when people all over j.a.pan welcomed the souls of the deceased back to the world of the living for a five-day visit. Vendors sold supplies for observing this important Buddhist holiday: incense and lotus flowers for tombs and altars, red earthenware dishes for serving the spirits of the dead during symbolic feasts, lanterns to guide the spirits home. Shoppers made way for the procession, which turned down another avenue, moving along a white plaster wall with vertical wooden beams, built on a stone foundation.

"This is the Imperial Palace," Yoriki Hoshina said, dismounting at a gate guarded by Tokugawa sentries. "The main portal is reserved for the emperor's use. We'll enter here."

Sano and his detectives dismounted. They and Hoshina entered a long pa.s.sage inside the enclosure. From his study of palace maps, Sano guessed that the wall on his left hid the residence of abdicated emperors; only its trees and rooftops were visible. Opposite, fences bounded the estates of court n.o.bles. A right turn led along another wall, through another gate, and Sano found himself transported to a time eight hundred years past.

An eerie calm lay over the Imperial Palace's famous Pond Garden. The lake spread like spilled quicksilver around islands, its surface overlaid with water lilies. Mandarin ducks roosted on a beach of black stones. Over beds of bright chrysanthemums, irises, and poppies, hummingbirds darted. Maple, cherry, and plum trees and bamboo stood resplendent in lush green leaf. The shrilling cicadas and tinkle of wind chimes, the scent of flowers and gra.s.s, the water and heat: all crystallized summer's timeless essence. In the distance, drooping willows screened villas built in ancient style-raised on low stilts, connected by covered corridors. Sano saw no one except a gardener raking leaves. From within the palace walls, the hills seemed closer, giving the illusion that the surrounding city didn't exist.

Awed to walk this sacred ground where the descendants of the Shinto G.o.ds lived, Sano trod respectfully; his men followed suit. Yoriki Hoshina marched down the gravel paths as if he belonged there: the shoshidai's representatives had supreme authority over the palace. He led the way across a stone bridge to the pond's largest island. There, shaded by pines, stood a tiny cottage built of rough cypress planks. Bamboo mullions latticed the window.

"This is where Left Minister Konoe was found," Hoshina said, pointing at the foot of the cottage steps.

"How did he die?" Sano asked.

"The shoshidai wasn't notified until the body had been prepared for the funeral, so all my knowledge comes from the report issued by the Imperial Court several days later," Hoshina said. "That's a violation of the law-we're supposed to be informed immediately of all deaths in the palace. The court physician examined Konoe and said that he'd hemorrhaged almost all of his blood out his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and a.n.u.s. Apparently the internal organs had ruptured. And he was as limp as a rag because so many bones had been broken. But the doctor couldn't determine the cause of this condition. There were no bruises or any other wounds on the body."

Such a bizarre death couldn't have been natural, and the delayed notification implied a cover-up, with murder the likely reason. As a possible explanation for Left Minister Konoe's symptoms occurred to Sano, he felt a sudden apprehension. This could be a complex, dangerous case.

"Did anyone report a very loud, powerful scream at the time of Konoe's death?" Sano asked.

Hoshina regarded Sano with surprise. "How did you know? People all over Miyako heard it; I did myself, all the way from across town. It was... unearthly." A shiver pa.s.sed over the yoriki. "Whatever happened to Konoe must have been extremely painful to produce such a scream from him."

Sano had a different interpretation for the scream, which confirmed his suspicions. "Left Minister Konoe must have been a victim of murder by kiai," he said. Combat without physical contact; the ultimate expression of the martial arts. "The scream was a 'spirit cry'-a burst of pure mental energy, concentrated in the voice of the killer."

Hoshina and the detectives stared at Sano in astonishment. That few samurai ever attained the ability to kill without weapons, by force of will alone, had made the pract.i.tioners of kiaijutsu the rarest, most fearsome and deadly warriors throughout history. The killer's presence, mighty and monstrous, seemed to darken the tranquil garden, and Sano knew his companions sensed it too.

Then Yoriki Hoshina chuckled. "I've never heard of anyone actually killed by a scream. That theory sounds like superst.i.tion to me," he said, expressing the modern skepticism that relegated amazing feats of martial arts to the realm of myth.

Sano had suspected that Hoshina might not be as compliant as he'd first seemed. Now he knew that Hoshina had a mind of his own; he wouldn't automatically accept the judgment of a superior. Sano wondered if the locals knew of the circ.u.mstances that had brought him here, and whether Hoshina might take advantage of Sano's shaky position in the bakufu. Many men rose to power by attacking vulnerable superiors, and while Sano had no particular reason to distrust Hoshina, he knew better than to think that Miyako politics were any different than Edo's. Aware that he must a.s.sert his authority, Sano rose to Hoshina's challenge.

"Toyotomi Hideyoshi's tea master, Sen-no-Rikyu, averted an attack from the great General Kato Kiyomasa with a single glance that took away his strength," Sano said. He himself had once thought kiaijutsu a lost art, but the murder of Left Minister Konoe had revived his belief that myths were based on fact. "Yagyu Matajuro, tutor of Tokugawa Ieyasu, could knock men unconscious with a shout."

"I've always thought those legends were invented by charlatans wishing to bolster their reputations." Hoshina's tone was deferential, but the fact that he dared to argue told Sano he liked to be right and wasn't afraid to take chances. "Certainly, there haven't been any recent, doc.u.mented cases of death by kiai".

"The general level of combat skill has declined; there are fewer great martial arts masters today," Sano admitted. "But Miyako is a city with strong ties to the past. Someone here has apparently rediscovered the secret of kiaijutsu. The scream and the condition of the corpse indicate that Left Minister Konoe was indeed a victim of a spirit cry."

p.r.o.nounced by the shogun's highest representative, Sano's opinion became the official cause of death. Rather than pursue the discussion and risk censure, Hoshina nodded and said respectfully, "Yes, Sosakan-sama." Sano observed that he knew when to yield for the sake of self-preservation.

"Who discovered the remains?" Sano said, moving on to the next important topic.

"When the palace residents heard the scream, they rushed to see what it was," Hoshina said. "Emperor Tomohito and his cousin Prince Momozono were first on the scene. They found Konoe alone, lying in a pool of blood."

So the case involved at least two important members of the Imperial Court, Sano thought. "What time did this happen?"

"Around midnight," said Hoshina.

"What was Left Minister Konoe doing out here so late?"

"No one admits to knowing."

"You've questioned the palace residents, then?"

"Yes, I conducted a preliminary investigation," Hoshina said, "to save you some trouble. The results are detailed in a report which I'll give you later, but I'll summarize them now. All the guards, servants, attendants, and courtiers were elsewhere at the time of Left Minister Konoe's death. He'd ordered everyone to stay out of the garden."

"Excellent work," Sano said, noting the raw edge of pride and ambition behind the yoriki's modest demeanor: Hoshina enjoyed showing off, and he antic.i.p.ated rewards for pleasing the shogun's sosakan-sama. That their interests coincided inclined Sano to trust the helpful Hoshina.

"Were there any visitors or other outsiders present in the compound that night?" Sano asked.

"No," Hoshina said, "and there was no sign of forced entry, so it's unlikely that an intruder killed Left Minister Konoe."

Sano said, "Was everyone else in the court accounted for around the time of the murder?"

"I thought it best to wait until your arrival before questioning the imperial family," Hoshina said. "However, I've made discreet inquiries. There are some people whose whereabouts I haven't been able to establish. Emperor Tomohito and Prince Momozono weren't in their quarters as usual. Neither were the emperor's chief consort, Lady Asagao, or his mother, Lady Jokyoden."

Four potential murder suspects; all members of j.a.pan's sacred imperial family. Sano contemplated the politically volatile nature of the case. By probing into palace affairs, he was bound to violate social and religious convention, thereby damaging relations between the bakufu and the inst.i.tution that sanctioned its right to rule. Nevertheless, the killer must be caught, or others might die.

Looking upward, Sano saw the hills darkening in murky twilight. He couldn't call on the imperial family so late, on such short notice, without offending them. "I'll interview the emperor, his mother, cousin, and consort tomorrow morning."

"Of course," Yoriki Hoshina said. "I'll arrange appointments for you. Shall I take you to your lodgings at Nijo Manor now?"

The offer tempted Sano, who was hungry and tired, caked with sweat and grime; he needed food, a bath, and sleep. He also wanted to discuss the case with Reiko, but he hadn't finished the day's work at the palace. "Before we go, I'd like to inspect Left Minister Konoe's residence and question the household."

3.

Sano, Yoriki Hoshina, Marume, and f.u.kida walked west along a pa.s.sage that bisected the palace compound, through the district of the kuge, court n.o.bles who were hereditary retainers to the imperial family. Fences bounded some hundred estates packed side by side, where buildings cl.u.s.tered with scarcely a gap between roofs. As the dinner hour approached, charcoal smoke billowed from many chimneys; the noise of activity and conversation made a constant, muted din. Through the pa.s.sages strolled courtiers dressed in the old-fashioned short jackets and black hats of imperial tradition. Everyone bowed to Sano and his party.

At the Konoe estate, near the northern wall of the imperial enclosure, black mourning drapery decorated the lattice fence and double-roofed gate. Hoshina rang a bell that dangled from the portal. After a moment, the gate swung open to reveal a courtier, who looked startled by the unexpected arrival of four samurai, then bowed politely.

"Greetings, Honorable Masters. How may I serve you?"

Hoshina introduced Sano and said, "The sosakan-sama is investigating the death of Left Minister Konoe. You shall a.s.semble the family for questioning and show us the left minister's quarters."

The courtier led Sano's party along a flagstone path through a garden landscaped with pines. Within a gravel courtyard stood a mansion built in the same style as the palace. Wooden rain doors were raised to admit the mild evening breeze. Walking behind the courtier down hallways floored in polished cypress, Sano and his companions pa.s.sed s.p.a.cious parlors where cultured voices murmured and a samisen played behind paper part.i.tions.

In the reception hall, screens decorated with forest scenes formed an enclosure; lanterns cast a soft glow.

The courtier invited the four samurai to sit on the dais, then left. Presently he returned, announcing, "I present the honorable Konoe clan."

Sano watched in amazement as a long parade of people, young and old, filed into the room to kneel before the dais. The courtier introduced siblings, cousins, and other relatives of the dead man. Sano had known that court families were large but hadn't expected quite so many people living under the same roof. The men wore traditional court costume. The women were dressed in multilayered pastel robes with voluminous sleeves and narrow brocade sashes; long hair flowed down to their waists. Sano recalled that Tokugawa Ieyasu had established "Laws Pertaining to the Emperor's Retainers," which consigned the n.o.ble cla.s.s to the practice of scholarship and arts rather than politics. Isolated from the world during the seventy-six years that had followed, these people fulfilled little purpose except to preserve their obsolete way of life. They were virtual prisoners of the bakufu, which financially supported them along with the imperial family. Now they comprised a huge pool of potential witnesses.

"My detectives will question the servants," Sano said to the courtier. "Is there a place where I can interview the family one at a time, in private?"

Evening immersed Miyako in tropical darkness. In the Market of the Dead, brightly lit stalls turned the streets into lines of multicolored fire where shoppers browsed among Obon supplies. Gongs rang, calling dead souls back to earth. On hillsides and along the Kamo River, bonfires burned, lighting the way for the spirits' journey. Pine torches blazed at the thresholds of houses; incense smoked on windowsills. Citizens bearing lanterns converged on the cemeteries to visit ancestors' graves. The air resounded with the clatter of wooden soles. On the boulevards fluttered the curtains of shops closed for the night, stirred by the wind... or pa.s.sing ghosts.

In the city center stood the great bulk of Nijo Castle, built by Tokugawa Ieyasu eighty-nine years ago with funds levied from vanquished warlords. Its stone walls and five-storied keep loomed high above the surrounding houses. Gold Tokugawa crests crowned the curved roofs. No shogun had visited Miyako in more than five decades; since then, Nijo Castle had been occupied by a minimal staff of caretakers. A few sentries manned the gates and guard turrets above the wide moat. From the outside, the castle seemed an inert historical relic.