The Concubine’s Tattoo

33

In the daimyo district, a party of soldiers escorting a lone palanquin halted outside the gate bearing a double-swan crest. The commander announced, “The wife of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama wishes to call on Lord Miyagi.”

One of the Miyagi guards said, “Please wait while I inform the daimyo that he has a visitor.”

Inside the palanquin, Reiko trembled with happy excitement. Her detective career had truly begun. Earlier this morning, she’d talked to Eri, who had promised to arrange a meeting with Lady Ichiteru later. Now came her first chance to match wits with a murder suspect. How she hoped that Lord Miyagi was the killer, so she could have the triumph of proving it! As she waited, Reiko fidgeted with a box of sweets she’d brought as a courtesy gift to the Miyagi. Circumstance had provided her the perfect excuse to call on them. She could probe for dark secrets, and Lord Miyagi would never suspect her true purpose. Though Reiko tried to settle down and concentrate on the task ahead, a smile kept breaking out on her face, and not only because she’d achieved her dream.

Her first night with Sano had added new dimension to life. Despite the soreness between her legs, love had given her an exhilarating sense of physical and spiritual well-being. The world seemed full of tempting challenges, and Reiko felt ready to take on all of them. Impatiently she peered out of the palanquin at the Miyagi’s gate.

Finally a manservant emerged. “Lord and Lady Miyagi will receive Lady Sano in the garden,” he said.

Clutching her gift box, Reiko alit from the palanquin. She told her entourage to wait outside, then followed the servant into the daimyo’s estate. In the enclosure formed by the retainers’ barracks, only two samurai sat in the guardroom. An inner courtyard surrounded a mansion with half-timbered walls and tile roof. A lone guard stood by the entry porch. The place was eerily deserted. Sano had warned Reiko to expect this, and now her heart began to race with anticipation. Surely Lord Miyagi’s abnormal manner of living indicated a shady character. Was she going to meet the murderer of Lady Harume?

Reiko followed her escort through another gate, into the private garden. Pines stood like grotesque monsters, their trunks and limbs artificially contorted, the foliage pruned to emphasize their twisted postures. The ornamental boulders were thick, phallic pillars with rounded heads. From a cluster of shrubs rose the black statue of a many-armed hermaphroditic deity whose hands touched its naked breasts and erection. This morning Sano had briefed Reiko on the Miyagi’s strange household, but mere words hadn’t prepared her for the reality. Sexual initiation had expanded her senses, making her keenly aware of her surroundings. The garden’s atmosphere was curiously hushed. Sunlight, filtered through the deformed trees, cast deep shadows. Reiko’s nostrils flared at the putrid taint of rot in the air.

A pretty young woman raked neat parallel lines into a bed of white sand. Another tossed crumbs to orange carp in the pond. In the pavilion, an older woman with a plain, severe face sat and sewed. A middle-aged man, dressed in a faded blue cotton coat, knelt by a flower bed, ladling something out of a wooden bucket.

Suddenly Reiko was afraid, even with her guards waiting outside. She’d never interviewed a murder suspect before. Her knowledge of criminals was confined to the ones she’d watched safely in the magistrate’s court. Now the sinister ambience of the Miyagi estate alerted Reiko that she was out of her depth. Could she get the information she wanted, without exposing her role as Sano’s partner? To keep his respect, to serve honor and love, she must succeed. Was Lord Miyagi really the killer, and what would he do if he discovered her subterfuge?

“The Honorable Lady Sano Reiko,” announced the servant.

Everyone turned toward Reiko. The rake halted in its tracks; the girl feeding the fish paused, arm extended. Lord Miyagi held his ladle in midair, while his wife’s hands stilled on her embroidery. As they all observed Reiko in expressionless silence, she could almost see the bonds that joined them, like the skeins of a web. The daimyo and the two young women moved to stand beside the pavilion where Lady Miyagi sat. Reiko had the sense of separate parts of the same alien creature uniting against a threat. Suppressing a shiver of distaste, she approached her hosts.

Lady Miyagi bowed. “Your presence does us honor.” She smiled, showing her blackened teeth.

The familiar ritual of introductions that followed restored Reiko’s composure somewhat. “I’ve come to thank you for the beautiful sewing chest you sent me as a wedding present,” she said, giving the ostensible reason for her visit. “Please accept this token of my appreciation.”

“Many thanks,” Lady Miyagi said. One of the concubines took Reiko’s package. To the other, Lady Miyagi said, “Wren, fetch some tea for our guest.” Both girls hurried into the house. Lady Miyagi flexed her shoulders. “One grows stiff from sitting too long, and I am sure you must be restless after traveling by palanquin. Come, let us take a turn around the garden.”

Rising, she descended from the pavilion. She moved with a jerky, unfeminine stride; her gray kimono hung on her angular body. Hovering close beside Reiko, she said, “We are delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Earlier, Reiko had hoped that the Miyagi would welcome a chance to curry favor with Sano through her, and hence give her more than the usual few moments allotted for a courtesy call. Now, though the scheme was working, she longed to finish her business and leave as soon as possible. Lady Miyagi’s flat black eyes glittered with predatory interest. Reiko edged away-and bumped into Lord Miyagi, who had come to stand at her left.

“As lovely as spring snow on cherry blossoms,” he drawled, sighing through moist lips.

Pinned between her hosts, Reiko felt increasingly alarmed, and not at all flattered by the compliment, which suggested the spoilage of beauty. She found Lord Miyagi repulsive, with his loose skin, droopy-lidded eyes, and slouching stance. Was he the father of Lady Harume’s child? How could she have tolerated his touch? The stench Reiko had noticed didn’t mask the intimate, musky odor that wafted from husband and wife. Inwardly she recoiled from its aura of mysterious, unhealthy practices. After consummating her marriage, she’d fancied herself very adult and experienced. Now her happy delusion crumbled before the perverse sophistication of the Miyagi.

“A walk in the garden sounds wonderful,” she blurted.

Eager to put some distance between herself and the couple, she started down the path. But Lord and Lady Miyagi stayed so close that their sleeves touched hers as they strolled. Reiko could feel the daimyo’s hot breath on her temple. Lady Miyagi was a barrier that prevented her from breaking the formation. Had Lady Harume felt this fearful unease while ensnared in the couple’s erotic web? Would they dare make designs upon the wife of a high Tokugawa official?

Reiko wished she’d brought her guards. Nervousness drove from her mind the plans she’d made for questioning Lord Miyagi. She fumbled to start a conversation that might produce the answers she wanted.

“I admire your garden,” she said. “It’s so-” Seeking an apt description, she noticed another statue: a two-headed winged demon with the corpse of a small animal in its claws. Reiko shuddered. “So elegant, ” she finished lamely.

Lady Miyagi said, “But I imagine that the sōsakan-sama’s garden is far better?”

Hearing genuine curiosity in the conventional reply, Reiko guessed that the daimyo’s wife had mentioned Sano because she wanted to find out what Reiko knew about the murder case. Reiko seized on the opening. “Unfortunately, my husband hasn’t much time to devote to nature. Distressing matters occupy his attention. You may have heard about the incident that interrupted our wedding festivities?”

“Indeed. Quite shocking,” Lady Miyagi said.

“Oh, yes.” The daimyo sighed. “Harume. All that loveliness destroyed. Her suffering must have been extreme.” Lasciviousness crept into Lord Miyagi’s smile. “The knife cutting her soft skin; the blood welling; the poisoned ink seeping into her young body. The convulsions and madness.” Lord Miyagi’s hooded eyes sparkled. “Pain is the ultimate sensation; fear is the most intense of all emotions. And there’s a unique beauty in death.”

Reiko experienced a frisson of horror as she realized that Lord Miyagi’s tastes ranged even farther beyond the boundaries of normality than she or Sano had thought. She remembered a trial her father hadn’t let her watch, that of a merchant who’d strangled a prostitute while they coupled, achieving the ultimate carnal satisfaction in the death of his lover. Had Lord Miyagi sought the same with Lady Harume, reveling in her agonies from afar?

Pretending not to notice anything unusual about his response, Reiko said, “I was very much saddened by Lady Harume’s death. Weren’t you?”

“Some women are wayward creatures who tease, torment, and entice in a continual flirtation with danger.” A dark, morbid excitement roughened the daimyo’s affected drawl. “They invite killing.”

Reiko’s heart jumped. “Did Lady Harume do that?” she asked. With you, Lord Miyagi?

Perhaps aware that her husband spoke too freely, Lady Miyagi cut in, “What progress does the sōsakan-sama make on his investigation? Will he make an arrest soon?” Eagerness sharpened her voice: She, unlike the daimyo, seemed worried about the outcome of the murder case.

“Oh, I don’t know anything about my husband’s business affairs.” Reiko spoke with blithe unconcern, not wanting the couple to guess that she knew Lord Miyagi was a suspect.

Neither Lady Miyagi’s expression nor bearing changed, but Reiko felt her relax. They reached the flower bed where the daimyo had been working. He picked up the bucket, which contained a lumpy red and gray slop, the source of the unpleasant odor. Flies buzzed around it. “Ground fish,” Lord Miyagi explained, “for enriching the soil and making plants grow.”

Reiko’s stomach turned. As the daimyo ladled the mixture onto the ground, his limpid gaze caressed her. “From death comes life. Some must die so others may survive. Do you understand, my dear?”

“Um, yes, I guess so.” Reiko wondered whether he was referring to dead animals-or Lady Harume. Was he justifying her murder? “It’s the way of nature,” she improvised.

“You are as perceptive as you are beautiful.” Lord Miyagi brought his face close to hers and smiled, his wet lips baring discolored teeth.

Rigid with distaste, Reiko tried not to cringe from the dawning infatuation in his bloodshot eyes. “A thousand thanks,” she murmured.

At the sound of the door opening and footsteps on the veranda, Lady Miyagi said, “Tea is served.”

“Tea! Oh, yes!” Reiko exclaimed, giddy with relief.

They sat in the pavilion. The concubines brought hot, damp cloths for washing their hands and laid before them an extravagant repast: tea, fresh figs, bean-jam cakes, pickled melon, boiled chestnuts in honey, sliced lobster arranged in the shape of a peony. As Reiko politely sampled the refreshments, she thought of the poisoned ink. Her throat closed; a surge of nausea roiled her stomach. She felt a growing conviction that Lord Miyagi was the killer. The crimes against Lady Harume, which had involved no physical contact, suited the daimyo’s habits. He’d sent her the ink bottle. The tea tasted bitter in Reiko’s mouth, and the sweets saturated with the taint of dead flesh.

Lounging beside her, Lord Miyagi chewed slowly, amid much lip-smacking. As he ate petals of the lobster peony, his gaze moved over Reiko as if peeling off her clothes with his eyes. She blushed under her makeup, forcing down a gulp of tea. Her stomach lurched, and for one awful moment she feared the liquid would come back up.

The daimyo intoned:

"High on the bough hangs the ripe fruit,

Safe beyond the reach of man; untouched

A wasp pierces her downy flesh

And drinks of the sweetness within-

From below, I celebrate the wedding

With my own ecstasy.”

He bit into the rosy pulp of a fig, never taking his gaze from Reiko. With a sinuous movement, he lifted a hand to her head. Reiko gasped. The concubines tittered; Lord Miyagi chuckled. “Don’t be afraid, my dear. A leaf has become tangled in your pretty hair-let me remove it.”

His fingers trailed over Reiko’s temple and down her cheek before falling away. There was no leaf in them. The daimyo’s touch left a damp sensation, like a snail’s track. Hot with angry embarrassment, Reiko looked away. As a sheltered upper-class girl, she’d had little contact with men outside her immediate household, and none had dared treat a magistrate’s daughter with such disrespect. Thus, she had no idea how to handle Lord Miyagi’s vulgar attentions. The only thing she could think to do was pretend she didn’t know what he was doing.

“You have an admirable turn of phrase,” she said weakly, then looked to Lady Miyagi for assistance. If the woman had any pride or sense, she would stop the daimyo’s outrageous flirtation now! How could any wife bear seeing her husband make advances toward another woman? Reiko herself would kill Sano if he ever behaved this way.

Yet Lady Miyagi merely watched and nodded; her stiff smile never wavered. If she felt any jealousy, she kept it well hidden. “Do you enjoy poetry, Lady Sano?” Sunlight slanted through the pavilion’s lattice walls, revealing the mustache hairs on her upper lip. At Reiko’s helpless nod, she said, “So do I.”

They discussed famous poets and quoted classic poems. Lady Miyagi recited some of her own verse and invited Reiko to do the same. Licking his fingers, Lord Miyagi watched. Reiko hardly knew what she was saying. As the food soured in her churning stomach, her mind whirled with questions. What had happened between the couple and Lady Harume? Was this how it had started? Had it led to the concubine’s death?

However, Reiko had lost whatever control she’d had over the interview. None of Sano’s explanations or advice had prepared her for the actuality of this situation. She couldn’t figure out how to direct the conversation back to the murder case without arousing suspicion. Despair worsened the sickness that washed over her in hot and cold waves. The morning took on the dimensions of a nightmare. Lady Miyagi’s eyes shone as she recited haiku. Reiko squirmed beneath Lord Miyagi’s tactile gaze. At last she could bear her distress no longer.

“I’ve imposed upon your hospitality for too long,” she choked out. “Now I must be going.”

The daimyo sighed regretfully. “So soon, my dear? Ah, well… partings are inevitable, the joys of life ephemeral. The frost claims even the freshest, loveliest blooms.”

Again the dark excitement swelled in his voice. Reiko felt the spirit of Lady Harume hovering over the garden. Her gorge rose.

Then Lord Miyagi’s eyes brightened, like sunlight reflecting off polluted water. “Tonight we are making a trip to our villa in the hills, to view the autumn moon. Would you be so good as to accompany us?”

No! I never want to see you again! Let me out of here! The vehement refusal would have burst from Reiko’s lips, had she not been pressing them together in an attempt to contain her sickness. She knew the danger she courted during every moment spent with a man who found pleasure in the death of a young woman.

“Please do come,” Lady Miyagi urged. “Your poetic talent will find much inspiration in the beauty of nature.”

Sano had told her to be careful, and the thought of going anywhere with the Miyagi terrified and repulsed Reiko.

“The occasion will provide us a chance to become better acquainted, my dear.” The daimyo’s lazy smile suggested a night of bizarre, forbidden thrills. “So far from the city, nothing shall disturb us.”

Yet Reiko had no proof that Lord Miyagi had poisoned Harume. Her own certainty wouldn’t convict him. She needed evidence, or a confession. To obtain either, she must take advantage of the chance to see Lord Miyagi again.

“Thank you for the kind invitation.” Reiko forced the words past the sour bile in her throat. “I gladly accept.”

Fighting nausea, her skin cold and clammy, she nodded as her hosts discussed and settled upon travel arrangements. “Now I must be on my way to finish my calls and prepare for the journey. Good-bye!”

The walk through the daimyo’s estate to the street lasted an eternity. Dizzy and faint, Reiko jumped into her waiting palanquin, not at all sure she could control herself until she got home. As the vehicle bounced with the bearers’ steps, her stomach heaved.

“Stop!” Reiko cried.

Leaping out, she ran into an alley, crouched, and vomited, raising her sleeve to shield herself from public view. Relief was instantaneous, but dread followed immediately. How could she bear to spend an entire night with the Miyagi? Stumbling back to the palanquin, Reiko consoled herself with the knowledge that she had the rest of the day to prepare for the ordeal. She couldn’t let Sano down, when failure to solve the case would ruin them. Somehow she must deliver Lord Miyagi to justice.

If only her courage-and stomach-didn’t fail her.