The Concubine's Tattoo Part 19

"Now Harume is dead. I'll never earn back my investment." Jimba's expression was morose; he sagged against the fence. Then he turned to Sano with a speculative glint in his close-set eyes. "On second thought, maybe it will do me some good if you find out who killed my daughter. I'll make him compensate me for my loss!"

Hiding his aversion toward the horse dealer's mercenary att.i.tude, Sano said, "Perhaps you can help me catch the murderer," then explained why he'd come. "What was Harume like?" When Jimba began describing her looks, Sano clarified, "No, I mean what sort of person was she?"

"Just like any other girl, I guess." Jimba looked surprised at the notion that Harume had possessed other attributes besides physical ones. Then, as he watched the stablehands boost the armored rider onto the horse's back, he smiled in reminiscence. "She was a tiny, sad little thing when I brought her here. She didn't understand that her mother was gone, or why I was taking her away from everything she knew. And she missed her friends-the little slum children from f.u.kagawa. She never really fit in here."

With a wry chuckle, Jimba said, "I'd never told my wife about Blue Apple, you see. Then suddenly, here was this child. She was furious. And my other children resented the attention Harume got. They mocked her for being the daughter of a wh.o.r.e. Her only friends were the maids. Considered them her own kind, I guess. But I put a stop to that. I wanted to separate her from low-cla.s.s folk who would keep her down at their level. And when she got to be around eleven, the boys started coming around. She drew them like a mare in heat, ha-ha. She was the image of her mother."

Nostalgia softened Jimba's features: perhaps he had in his own way loved Blue Apple. After all, he'd supported their daughter, then adopted her when another man might have turned his back. "Harume started sneaking out of the house at night. I had to hire a chaperone so she wouldn't go and get pregnant by some peasant boy. By the time she was fourteen, she was getting marriage proposals from rich merchants. But I knew I could do better with her."

Imagining Harume's lonely childhood, Sano pitied the concubine. She'd gone from being an outcast in Bakurocho to a similar situation in the Large Interior. As a young girl she'd found solace in the company of male admirers. Apparently she'd followed the same pattern during her months at Edo Castle. Had her past overlapped her recent life in any other way?

"Those peasants Harume knew," Sano said. "Did she keep in touch with any of them after she moved to Edo Castle?" Sano wanted to know if she'd confided secrets to old companions. He also wanted new motives and suspects for her murder-preferably ones not a.s.sociated with the Tokugawa.

"I don't see how she could have, locked up day after day. Even when she went out, the shogun's men keep a pretty close watch over the concubines."

Yet Harume had managed to slip away and meet Lord Miyagi. Still, a peasant wouldn't have had access to the ink bottle. This line of inquiry seemed a dead end. "Had you seen or heard from your daughter recently?" Sano asked.

An uneasy expression came over the horse dealer's face. "... Yes. I got a message from Harume about three months ago. She begged me to get her out of Edo. Said she was afraid. Seems she'd run afoul of someone-I don't remember her exact words. Anyway, she thought something bad would happen to her if she didn't leave right away."

Sano's heart beat faster in antic.i.p.ation and dread. "Did Harume say whom she was afraid of?"

Jimba blinked rapidly; his throat muscles spasmed. So he did have feelings toward the daughter he'd used to further his ambitions. To give him time to regain his composure, Sano looked over at the mounted samurai, who was circling the corral at a trot. Watching him wave a spear, Sano thought of Lieutenant Kus.h.i.+da. By blaming Kus.h.i.+da for Lady Harume's murder, Sano could please the shogun and end the investigation. Yet by following Harume's elusive ghost into the past, Sano had already moved beyond the point of easy solutions.

"No," Jimba replied at last, with a grimace of regret. "Harume didn't give the name of the person who was threatening her. I thought she was homesick, or didn't like bedding the shogun, and had made up a story so I would rescue her. Sometimes it takes awhile for a filly to get used to a new stable. Ha-ha." His laugh was a gloomy chortle. "I didn't want to return the money, or ask the shogun to let Harume go. That would have offended His Excellency. I would never get any Tokugawa business again! And people would know it was Harume's fault. How would I ever find a husband for her? She would have been a burden to me forever!"

The horse dealer's voice rose in a defensive whine. "So I didn't answer the message. I didn't bother trying to find out whether someone was really trying to hurt Harume. Thought that if I ignored her, she would do her duty without complaining."

"Did you save the message? May I look at it?"

"It wasn't written. It was delivered by a castle messenger, by word of mouth." When questioned about the messenger, Jimba said, "Didn't get his name. Don't remember what he looked like."

Edo Castle had several hundred messengers, Sano knew. Tracing this one might prove difficult, especially if Harume, desiring secrecy, had persuaded a messenger to convey her words verbally as a favor, rather than writing a letter and employing him through official channels, which would leave a record.

"Was anyone else present when the message came?" Sano asked.

"No. And I didn't tell anyone about it, either, because I didn't want people to think Harume was making trouble. Then, after she died, I was too ashamed to let anyone know she'd been in danger and I'd refused to listen."

Although Sano would have his detectives look for the messenger in question, he could only hope that the man's recall was better than Jimba's.

"I am responsible for my daughter's death," Jimba lamented, folding his arms on top of the fence and burying his head in them. "If only I'd taken her fears seriously, I might have saved her." A sob strangled his voice.

Suppressing the urge to castigate the horse dealer for ignoring his daughter's plea for help, Sano said soothingly, "You couldn't have known what would happen."

Jimba raised a face bloated with tears and rage. "What a fool I am!" He cuffed himself on the head. "I could kill myself! I trained and groomed that girl. She was a prime piece of flesh. Through her, I could have joined the Tokugawa clan. I should have gone to the bakufu and asked them to find out what was wrong in the Large Interior, and to take care of the problem. But no, I failed to protect my investment. Stupid, stupid!"

Sano let him rage without offering further sympathy. Jimba had earned his own fate. And Sano had grave problems of his own.

Around the corral galloped the mounted samurai. He wove between the rows of targets, stabbing at them with his spear. Straw particles dusted the air. At last the rider grasped the reins and brought the horse to a stop beside his waiting spectators.

"This is a fine beast," he said."I'll take her."

Suddenly the horse bucked. The rider sailed over its head and crashed to the ground. While his comrades rushed to his aid, the stablehands grabbed the reins. The horse kicked and strained, biting at their hands. Jimba vaulted the fence and hurried over to his fallen customer.

"The horse is just a bit skittish today," he explained. "Once she knows you're her master, she'll behave!"

Even a tame creature sometimes rebels against a lifetime of discipline, Sano thought. Jimba had trained the wildness out of Harume; yet she hadn't been completely controllable. Sano believed that her message to Jimba hadn't been a mere ruse. She'd made an enemy who had the power, opportunity, and temperament to harm a concubine of the shogun. Of all the murder suspects, who best fit the profile?

Beneath Sano's sash, Lady Keisho-in's letter burned him like a sheet of flame. She ruled the Large Interior and commanded the shogun's love. With the help of allies within the Tokugawa regime, she could have easily managed the murder, as well as an earlier poisoning attempt, and a dagger thrown by a hired a.s.sa.s.sin in a crowded street.

Now Jimba's evidence strengthened the case against her. Must Sano accuse Lady Keisho-in of murder-and bring grave peril upon himself?

22.

The paper in Hirata's hand read: INTERROGATION PLAN.

1. Determine Lady Ichiteru's true feelings toward Harume.

2. Find out where Lady Ichiteru was during the dagger attack and possible earlier poisoning attempt on Harume.

3. Has Lady Ichiteru ever bought poison?

4. Had Lady Ichiteru been in Harume's room after the ink bottle and Lord Miyagi's letter arrived?

5. Check Lady Ichiteru's statement by asking Midori the same questions.

As Hirata rode across the Ryogoku Bridge, he divided his attention between steering his horse past a band of porters hauling wood from the Honjo lumber yards and studying the plan for his second interview with Lady Ichiteru. He mumbled the directions scribbled in the margins. "Interview suspect at Edo Castle, not at the theater." "Do not let suspect evade questions." "If suspect makes lewd remarks, order her to stop." "Do not think about s.e.x while interviewing suspect." "Above all, do not let suspect touch you!"

To fill a big hole in the fabric of the murder investigation, he must extract the relevant information from Lady Ichiteru. He had to correct his slip-up before Sano found out and lost trust in him. He wanted to rebuild his former image of himself as a good detective. And he desperately needed something to make up for the disappointing results of his other inquiries.

Yesterday the detective corps had failed to locate either the Indian arrow toxin or the elusive drug peddler, Choyei. This morning Hirata had sent them out to interrogate contacts within Edo's criminal underworld. He'd just revisited police headquarters, to no avail. There seemed little hope of solving the case by tracing the poison. Sano didn't believe Lieutenant Kus.h.i.+da was guilty. Failure would bring severe punishment. Everything might depend on Hirata's handling of the interview with Lady Ichiteru.

He'd spent a restless night, alternating between vivid, erotic dreams of her and wakeful bouts of self-recrimination. What a fool he was to let her trick him! After the capture of Lieutenant Kus.h.i.+da, he'd given up on sleep and formulated his plan for the interview. Now he would continue the search for Choyei while memorizing the plan and strengthening his resolve to withstand Lady Ichiteru's charms.

Yet even as Hirata tucked the paper under his sash for later reference, he yearned for Lady Ichiteru. In his memory, he heard her soft, husky voice, felt the warmth of her seductive gaze and the thrilling touch of her hand. Immediately a wave of heat swept his body. And beneath the excitement, he experienced the humiliating knowledge of his social inferiority, the helplessness of his desire.

"Watch out, master!"

The warning, called out by a pa.s.sing stranger, snapped Hirata out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw that he'd pa.s.sed the end of the bridge. His horse was meandering down the street, trampling wares set out for sale by itinerant vendors. Quickly Hirata reined in his mount. "My apologies," he said, increasingly worried about the upcoming interview. How would he get the truth from Lady Ichiteru if even the mere thought of her ruined his concentration?

Reaching the Honjo Muko Ryogoku entertainment district, he found the revelry undiminished by the dreary weather. A theater troupe improvised comedies in the street, before a large, noisy audience; business flourished in the teahouses and restaurants. But the freak show was closed, its platform empty and sliding doors pulled over the entrance. A sign outside read, NO performance today. Hirata's spirits fell. If the Rat was out roaming the town, he could be gone for hours, even days. So much for leads on the poison dealer.

Then, as Hirata turned his horse back toward the bridge, he spotted a familiar figure amid the pleasure seekers. It was the bald giant who served as the Rat's bodyguard and collected admission fees at the shows. He headed down the firebreak, past the gambling dens and curiosity shows. Hirata followed. Maybe the giant could tell him where the Rat was.

The giant vanished into a gap between the wild animal menagerie and a noodle stall. A mob of drunks reeled in front of Hirata, blocking his way, and by the time he reached the gap, the giant was nowhere in sight. Hirata dismounted and secured his horse to a post. He walked down the narrow pa.s.sage, which smelled of urine and led to an alley that ran behind the buildings. Roars emanated from the menagerie; steam wafted from restaurant kitchens; stray dogs foraged in malodorous garbage bins. Otherwise, the alley was deserted.

Hirata hurried past the closed rear doors of businesses. Then he heard voices: the Rat's rustic accent, and someone else's m.u.f.fled tones. They came from the back room of a teahouse. Hirata peered through the barred window.

Ceramic sake urns lined the room. The Rat knelt on the floor, his back to Hirata, his s.h.a.ggy head nodding as he listened to the woman seated opposite him. A cloak veiled her hair and body. In the faint daylight from the window, Hirata could just make out her face: plain and not young, with blackened teeth.

"The deal will benefit both of us," she said in a low, pleading voice. "My family will have peace, and your business will prosper."

"All right. Five hundred koban, and that's my final price," answered the Rat.

The woman bowed her head. "Very well. If you'll come with me, we'll get it now."

Having seen the Rat conduct this type of negotiation before, Hirata guessed what was going on. He raised a hand to knock on the door. Then a change in the atmosphere warned him of another human presence in the alley. He whirled. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, lifting him off the ground. He found himself face to face with the Rat's giant.

"I'm here to see your master," Hirata explained, struggling in the man's iron grip. "Put me down!"

An evil grin split the giant's face. With dismay Hirata remembered that he was a deaf mute. He threw Hirata against the wall with a jarring crash. Hirata drew his sword. Then the door screeched open.

"What's going on?" demanded the Rat. Seeing Hirata facing off against his servant, he rushed outside, ordering, "Stop, Kyojin!"

The giant made gurgling sounds while pointing at the window, trying to say he'd caught Hirata spying.

"This man is police." Speaking with exaggerated lip movements, the Rat gestured in what seemed a private form of sign language. "Lay off before he kills you and arrests me!"

Glowering, the giant retreated. Hirata relaxed and sheathed his sword. "How nice to see you again so soon," said the Rat, with an insincere grin. "What can I do for you today?"

"Have you found Choyei, the drug peddler?"

Glancing nervously toward the open door, the Rat pawed at his whiskers. "I don't have time to talk now; I'm right in the middle of some business." He did a double take and rushed into the teahouse's back room, then came out muttering curses. "She's gone-must have slipped out the other way." Then he shrugged. "Oh, well. She'll be back. She's selling her deformed child to my freak show," he explained, confirming Hirata's guess. "Poor thing was born with no feet. Who else would want it except me? Now what were you saying?"

"The drug peddler," Hirata prompted.

"Ah." The Rat's sly little eyes gleamed through strands of long, untidy hair. "I'm afraid I couldn't find him. Sorry."

"But it's only been one day," Hirata said. "How far could you have looked in that time?"

"The Rat has eyes and ears all over Edo. If they haven't picked up on Choyei by now, then either he's left town or was never here in the first place."

If his best informant couldn't find the possible source of the poison, then this lead was a dead end, Hirata thought. Disappointment turned to anger. "I paid you good money," he said, grabbing the Rat's collar. The giant moved toward him. "Are you reneging on our deal?"

"Stay, Kyojin! Oh, no. Not at all!" The Rat quickly reached into the pouch at his waist and extracted a handful of coins, which he gave Hirata. "Here you go. A full refund, with my apologies."

Suspicion deepened Hirata's anger as he stuffed the coins in his own pouch. Since when had the Rat ever voluntarily relinquished money?

"Are you trying to trick me?" He shook the freak-show proprietor until his head hobbled. "Did Choyei pay you off?"

"No, no! Honest!"

The Rat struggled. The giant grabbed Hirata. A three-way tussle ensued. Finally Hirata gave up and let go. "If I find out you lied to me, you'll be arrested. And jailed. And beaten!" He underscored each threat by jabbing the Rat's chest with his fist. Then he stalked down the alley to retrieve his horse.

It was time to confront Lady Ichiteru.

By the time Hirata arrived back at Edo Castle, he was almost ill with eagerness to see Lady Ichiteru again. His skin felt feverish; his hands trembled as he rode through the main gate; antic.i.p.ation evoked arousal. Realizing that he shouldn't face Lady Ichiteru alone in his condition, he stopped at Sano's mansion and fetched two detectives to accompany him. Their presence would ensure that he stuck to his plan and Lady Ichiteru behaved properly. But just as Hirata and the detectives were leaving the barracks, a servant hurried up.

"This came while you were gone, master, " he said, proffering a small lacquer scroll case.

Hirata took it and withdrew a letter. As he read, his heart began to pound.

I have vitally important information relating to Lady Harume's murder. It is imperative that I speak to you-but not today, and not here at Edo Castle. For the wrong people to overhear what I must impart would endanger my life. Please meet me tomorrow at the hour of the sheep, at the location described below.

And please come alone.

It is with more than ordinary pleasure that I look forward to seeing you again.

Lady Ichiteru A map followed, with directions written in the same elegant, feminine hand as the message. The creamy white rice paper had the softness of living flesh. Moistened by Hirata's suddenly sweaty hands, it gave off the scent of Lady Ichiteru's perfume. Impulsively he pressed it against his face. As the smell evoked erotic memories, he forgot the day's disappointments. Lady Ichiteru wanted to see him again! Did not her closing words imply that she shared his feelings? His spirits soared. He laughed aloud.

"Hirata-san? What are you doing?"

Hirata looked up to see the detectives watching him with concern. "Nothing," he said, hastily cramming the letter into the scroll case.

"Are we going to visit Lady Ichiteru now?" asked one of the men.

All Hirata's police instincts told him to stick to the plan he'd devised and avoid letting a murder suspect manipulate him. She's up to no good said his inner voice. Yet Hirata couldn't endanger Lady Ichiteru by forcing her to give evidence within hearing of spies. And he yearned to explore the full potential of an acquaintance with her-outside Edo Castle's confines, free from the constraints of duty and prudence.

"No," he said at last. "I'm postponing the interview until tomorrow." Then he would decide whether to accept Lady Ichiteru's invitation. Deep inside Hirata, seven years of detective experience clamored in warning. "Dismissed."

23.

The inner palace precinct was strangely vacant even for a cold autumn evening when Sano and Hirata traversed the garden. Cherry trees raised bare, black branches to a soot-colored sky; moisture gleamed on the surfaces of boulders; fallen leaves matted the gra.s.s. A lone patrol guard made his rounds. Taking advantage of their momentary privacy before reporting to the shogun, Sano shared the results of his inquiries and pa.s.sed Hirata the letter from Lady Harume's room.

Hirata read, and whistled through his teeth. "Will you show this to the shogun?"

"Have I got a choice?" Sano said grimly, replacing the letter under his sash.

At the palace door, the guard said, "His Excellency is in a special emergency session with the Council of Elders. They await your report in the Grand Audience Hall."

Dismay washed through Sano like an icy tide. Council meetings invariably meant trouble for him. He wished he could postpone his report and the inevitable repercussions, but there seemed no chance of reprieve. With Hirata beside him, he proceeded down the palace corridors. Sentries opened ma.s.sive double doors carved with scowling guardian deities. Sano took a deep breath. He and Hirata entered.

Glowing lanterns hung from the coffered ceiling. Tokugawa Tsunayos.h.i.+ knelt upon the dais. A gilded landscape mural set off his black ceremonial robes. Chamberlain Yanagisawa occupied his usual place at the shogun's right, on the higher of the floor's two levels. Near him on the same level, the five elders knelt in two facing rows, at right angles to their lord. However, the secretaries were absent. Only the shogun's chief attendant served tea and brought tobacco and metal baskets of lit coals for pipes. The law barred all unnecessary personnel from special emergency sessions.

As Sano and Hirata knelt at the back of the room, Senior Elder Makino Narisada said, "Your Excellency, we apologize for requesting a meeting on such short notice, but the murder of Lady Harume has caused some disturbing incidents. The chief commander of the Large Interior has committed seppuku to atone for allowing a murder to take place during his watch. Rumors and accusations are rampant. One concerns Kato Yuichi, junior member of the judicial council. His fellow member and rival, Sagara Fumio, spread a story that Kato killed Lady Harume as practice for a ma.s.s poisoning of high officials. Kato confronted Sagara. They dueled. Now both men are dead, and the judicial council is in turmoil, with scores of men vying for the vacant positions."

It was just as Sano had feared: The murder had ignited emotions within the bakufu, a gunpowder a.r.s.enal waiting to explode. The dreaded nightmare of past investigations had returned-because he hadn't solved the case soon enough, more deaths had occurred.