The Cloud Pavilion

3

The corpse of a young samurai lay amid the irises and reeds beside a pond coated with green algae. Blood covered the front of his kimono. A mosquito alighted between his closed eyes.

His hand flew up and swatted the mosquito.

"Don't move!" cried Chamberlain Sano's son, Masahiro, from behind a nearby tree. Almost ten years old, dressed in kimono, surcoat, and trousers, with two swords at his waist, he bore a strong resemblance to his father. He wore his hair in a forelock tied above his brow, the custom for young samurai who hadn't reached manhood. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"I'm sorry, young master, but these bugs are eating me up," the samurai said contritely. "How much longer do I have to lie here like this?"

The boy tiptoed slowly across the grass toward the samurai. "Until after I discover your body."

From inside the mansion whose wings enclosed the garden, Lady Reiko stepped out onto the veranda. She was beautiful in a green silk summer kimono patterned with dragonflies and water lilies. Lacquer combs anchored her upswept hairdo. "What's going on?" she called.

"I'm playing detective," Masahiro answered. "Lieutenant Tanuma is the murder victim."

"Not again!" Reiko sighed.

She wasn't sure what to make of her son's game. On the one hand, she was proud of his cleverness, his imagination. Most boys his age only played ball or fought mock battles. On the other hand, Reiko was concerned about his preoccupation with violent death. He had seen too much of it in his short life, and had even killed, in self-defense. Reiko and Sano blamed their life at the center of political turmoil, and their habit of talking too freely about the murder cases they'd investigated together. They'd thought Masahiro was too young to understand what they were saying, but they'd been wrong.

Masahiro pretended to stumble upon Lieutenant Tanuma. "What's this?" he exclaimed, and laughed. "Oh, a corpse!"

Reiko didn't know whether to be glad he had a sense of humor after everything that had happened to him, or worried that his experiences had made him callous, or simply horrified that he'd invented such a ghoulish pastime.

"What is that red substance on Lieutenant Tanuma's clothes?" she asked, hoping it wasn't actually blood.

"It's ink," Masahiro said.

"You shouldn't make Lieutenant Tanuma play with you," Reiko said. "It's not his job."

Tanuma was her chief bodyguard when she went outside the estate. "I don't mind," he said. A homely, serious young man, he'd replaced Reiko's favorite, Lieutenant Asukai, who'd died last year in the line of duty. Reiko still missed the handsome, gallant, and adventurous Asukai, who had saved her life more than once. But Tanuma did his own, solemn best. "Anything to entertain the young master."

"Don't spoil him," Reiko protested.

Masahiro was rummaging through the reeds. "Where's the murder weapon? I put it right down here."

Giggles issued from behind a flower bed. Out peeked Masahiro's two-year-old sister, Akiko. She held up a dagger whose blade was stained red.

"Hey! You stole it!" Masahiro said. "Give it to me!"

As he stalked toward Akiko, she ran. "Come here, you little thief!" He chased her while she waved the dagger and laughed, her pigtails and the skirt of her pink kimono flying. She was happy to have the attention of the big brother she adored, who was always too busy to play with her. Reiko gasped in alarm.

"That's a real dagger! Masahiro, you know you shouldn't leave weapons lying around where your sister can get at them. She could hurt herself!"

Reiko joined the chase. When she finally caught Akiko, she was breathless and perspiring, her hair windblown. She took away the dagger and said, "The game is over."

Lieutenant Tanuma got to his feet, bowed, and made a quick exit. Masahiro said, "But Mother-"

"Don't you have lessons to study?" Reiko said.

"I'm finished."

"Then practice martial arts."

"I already did."

"Can't you play other games that don't involve weapons or murder?"

"Yes, but this is the most exciting." As he traipsed off toward the house with Akiko tagging after him, Masahiro added wistfully, "It's been a long time since anything exciting has happened around here."

It had been more than a year, Reiko thought, since Lord Matsudaira's death had put an end to the political strife that had threatened their family. Reiko shuddered to think of that dreadful time, when she and her children had lived in a state of siege, prisoners in their own home, under constant guard. Lord Matsudaira's final attack had come from assassins he'd planted in the house hold. Reiko and the children had barely escaped death. She still had nightmares. She didn't miss those days, and she was disconcerted to see that Masahiro did.

She had to remind herself that Masahiro was too young to realize how serious their situation had been. Children, especially strong, brave boys like her son, believed they were invincible. And Masahiro thrived under conditions that most people found traumatic. No wonder he thought the current state of peace was boring.

Today Reiko realized that she agreed.

At first she'd been thankful for the peace and quiet. She'd been glad that Yanagisawa apparently didn't intend to continue his hostilities against Sano. She'd wanted only to raise her family without fear; she was glad not to worry every day about whether Sano would come home alive. For the past year she'd devoted herself to being a good mother and wife. She'd become very domestic, taking up feminine activities such as flower-arranging. Since the political situation had stabilized and Sano seemed likely to hold his position for a while, people had flocked to curry favor with him. Prominent men had sent their wives to cultivate Reiko because she had strong influence with the chamberlain. The wives brought their children to play with hers. Reiko found some of the wives dull and catty, but others intelligent and stimulating. She'd made new friends and enjoyed the social whirl.

But enough was enough.

As Reiko stood alone in the garden, her old, adventurous spirit revived. She looked up at the gray clouds, ever-present during this extremely wet rainy season. The leaves of the trees, the shrubs, and the grasses were lush and green. She felt the mist in the air, heard birdsong. She appreciated the natural beauty around her, but where was the challenge?

She wasn't meant for the circumscribed existence that was normal for women of her class. She missed the days when she'd run a service that helped women in trouble, when she'd helped Sano solve crimes. Reiko inhaled deeply, as if trying to breathe her native air of excitement and danger.

She was eager to take on a new investigation. But how? And when?