The Incense Game

5

The way to Lord Hosokawa’s house led Sano and his troops along the Daiichi Keihin, the main highway to points south. Fewer scenes of destruction met them as they left the outskirts of the city. Sano felt as if an iron clamp around his chest had loosened. Inhaling air that wasn’t tainted with dust or the smell of decay, he rested his tired eyes on the forests, whose bare trees laced the rim of a blue, clear sky. He was surprised that beauty still existed in the world. But even here there were reminders of the disaster. Trees leaned where the earth had shifted. Sano and his men jumped their horses across cracks that split the road. At last they neared a group of samurai estates, private towns enclosed by barracks. The damage was slight here. If Sano squinted, he couldn’t see the cracks in the long walls of the barracks or the few broken roofs. Soldiers milled around outside. The illusion of normality was jarring.

The Hosokawa estate was the grandest in the area, with a gate made of wide, iron-studded planks. As Sano dismounted and approached the gate, two sentries scrambled out of an ornate guardhouse. They recognized Sano, greeted him, and bowed.

“Are any women in Lord Hosokawa’s clan missing?” Sano asked.

“Yes,” said a sentry. “Lord Hosokawa’s two daughters.”

Resigned to being the bearer of bad news, Sano said, “Then I must speak with Lord Hosokawa.”

He left his troops outside the estate while one servant escorted him into the mansion and another fetched Lord Hosokawa. Sano had barely entered the reception chamber when Lord Hosokawa rushed in. Lord Hosokawa was in his sixties, gray-haired and slight of build. He wore modest robes patterned in neutral colors instead of the opulent, fashionable garb that daimyo of his wealth usually affected. The lines in his face bespoke intelligence and constant worry. Two women, both in their late forties, followed.

Lord Hosokawa rushed through the polite ritual of greeting. “My wife,” he said, introducing the woman with gray hair, sallow skin, and drab brown clothes. He gestured toward the other, who was done up with dyed-black hair and full makeup, her robes in brighter shades of maroon and teal. “Tama, my concubine.” The women leaned toward Sano, their faces anxious, their hands wringing. “Honorable Chamberlain, have you news of my daughters?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sano said somberly. “We’ve found the bodies of two young women.”

“Why do you think they’re my daughters?” Lord Hosokawa looked torn between the hope that the missing had been located and the wish that the dead weren’t his kin.

“They were wearing these.” Sano displayed the sashes he’d brought.

Lady Hosokawa snatched the magenta sash with the crests worked in gold thread. “That’s Myobu’s! I embroidered it for her myself!” She pressed the sash to her face and wept.

The concubine grabbed the green, plainer sash. Cradling it, she fell to her knees, sobbed, and rocked back and forth. “Kumoi! No! No!”

Pained by their grief, Sano averted his eyes. He’d witnessed similar scenes too many times since the earthquake. No family was untouched by loss.

The lines on Lord Hosokawa’s face knitted his features into a mask of agony. He sagged to his knees. “Myobu. Kumoi.” He sounded as if he’d aged ten years. “My only two girls, my treasures. I prayed that they were alive, but I knew that after all this time, they couldn’t be.”

Sano crouched opposite Lord Hosokawa. “I’m sorry to bring you such bad news.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Thank you for coming. I know how busy you must be.” Lord Hosokawa swallowed tears. “It’s better to know that my children are dead than to spend the rest of my life wondering what had become of them.”

Tama the concubine crawled up to Sano. “I want to see Kumoi!” The sash was twisted in the clasped hands that she raised to him. “Where is she?”

“And Myobu?” Lady Hosokawa lifted her face. “May I see her?”

Sano hesitated. He couldn’t tell the parents that the bodies were on the way to the morgue for an illegal examination.

“You mustn’t,” Lord Hosokawa told the women. “Not after this long.” He obviously thought the bodies were too decomposed for the mothers to bear viewing.

The women wept harder but accepted his pronouncement. Sano felt guilty about letting them keep a false impression.

“After our daughters are cremated, may we have the ashes to bury in our family tomb?” Lord Hosokawa asked.

“Certainly.” Sano couldn’t help feeling relieved that the family wouldn’t see the signs of the examination.

Lord Hosokawa seemed to draw on the strength of will that had made him one of the most capable provincial rulers in Japan. “Where were they found?”

“In a house in Nihonbashi that sank underground during the earthquake,” Sano said.

Surprise momentarily distracted Lady Hosokawa from her grief. “Whose house?”

“What were they doing there?” Tama asked between sobs.

“The house belonged to an incense teacher named Usugumo,” Sano said. “She and your daughters were playing an incense game when the earthquake struck. They all died.”

Lord Hosokawa shook his head, puzzled. “We didn’t know Myobu and Kumoi had left the estate that night. We didn’t realize they were missing until after the earthquake.” He turned to the women. “Did you know they were taking incense lessons in town?”

“No,” Lady Hosokawa said.

“Kumoi never told me,” Tama said.

“I taught Myobu not to mix with commoners unless they’re people we know well, who work for our family or do business with us,” Lady Hosokawa said. “She never would have gone there on her own.” She angrily turned on Tama. “It must have been your daughter’s idea. She liked new fads. She liked slumming with the lower classes.”

“That’s not true!” The fury in her eyes and the makeup running down her face made Tama look like a demon in a Kabuki play. “Your daughter was the big sister. Kumoi would follow her wherever she went. It’s Myobu’s fault that my daughter died in that house!”

“Don’t you speak to me like that!” Lady Hosokawa slapped Tama’s face.

Tama threw herself on Lady Hosokawa. The women became a clawing, sobbing, thrashing tangle of silk robes and disheveled hair. Lord Hosokawa grabbed his wife. Sano grabbed the concubine. They tore the women from each other. Ladies-in-waiting ran into the room. Two groups formed-one with Lady Hosokawa at the center, the other around Tama. They exchanged glares, like rival armies. Lady Hosokawa’s pack swept out of the room, followed by Tama’s.

“Please forgive our bad manners,” Lord Hosokawa said, shamefaced, to Sano. “My wife and my concubine don’t get along.”

Many men’s wives and concubines didn’t. That was one reason Sano would never bring another woman into his home. If he did that to Reiko, he would never have a moment of peace. The other reason was that he loved Reiko so much that he couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else. He was sorry that the death of Lord Hosokawa’s daughters had increased the strife between their mothers, who couldn’t even comfort each other.

“How did my daughters die?” Lord Hosokawa asked. “Was it quick and merciful?”

Here came the part of his mission that Sano had been dreading the most. He wished he could assure Lord Hosokawa that his daughters hadn’t suffered, but he couldn’t withhold the truth. Were he in Lord Hosokawa’s position, he would want to know.

“It looks as if they weren’t killed by the earthquake.” Sano described their red eyes and the rescuer’s illness but omitted mentioning their eerily preserved corpses. “They appeared to have been poisoned. There may have been foul play.”

“Do you mean murder?” Lord Hosokawa’s grief yielded to bewilderment and horror. “By whom?”

“I don’t know.”

“Whoever killed my daughters will pay,” Lord Hosokawa said, angry now. “But I have no expertise in hunting criminals. Will you do it for me?”

Sano could have said that it wasn’t his job anymore; but he would make an exception for his friend and ally. “I would be glad to, as soon as I’ve finished dealing with the problems caused by the earthquake.”

A visible jolt of dismay ran through Lord Hosokawa. “When will that be? Years from now, when Edo is back to normal?” He made a slicing motion with his hand. “No. The killer’s trail will be cold by then.”

“The trail is already cold,” Sano gently pointed out. “It’s been a month.”

Lord Hosokawa seemed not to hear. “I can’t wait that long for justice. The hunt for the killer must begin now.” His eyes met Sano’s. Gone was their usual cautious, worried expression. They glittered with lust for revenge. He jabbed his finger at Sano and spoke as if addressing a subordinate instead of a representative of his lord. “You will help me at once!”

“I’m sorry,” Sano said, disconcerted. “The shogun wouldn’t want me to take time off from rebuilding his capital to investigate two deaths.”

Lord Hosokawa set his jaw against the implication that his daughters’ deaths were but a drop in the pail of casualties that the earthquake had begotten. “A few days or a month to find the killer-what difference will it make if Edo is rebuilt that much sooner or later?”

Pitying the man, Sano sought a compromise. “I’ll send my people to investigate.” He thought of Hirata, then decided that Detective Marume would be more reliable, and perhaps the challenge would distract him from his grief.

“No,” Lord Hosokawa said, obstinate. “I want the best for my daughters. I’ll have no one but you.” His unnaturally bright gaze revealed the wits he’d used to make his domain among the best managed and most profitable. “I’ll make it worth your while. The government is desperately in need of money, isn’t it? The treasury is almost drained?”

Sano was too surprised to control his expression. The regime’s finances weren’t supposed to be public knowledge.

“Just as I thought,” Lord Hosokawa said with a smug smile. “But Higo Province had the best rice harvest in a decade this past year. I’ll make you a proposition.” His clan must have merchants in its family tree; he sounded like one now. “Investigate my daughters’ murders, and I’ll give you a million koban. ”

The huge sum astounded Sano. Here was his chance to kill two birds with one arrow-serve justice and fund the regime. Although tempted, he said, “I can’t accept. The shogun won’t approve of his chamberlain having to earn the money by working for you. You’re obligated to let him have it for free.”

“I’ll give you an incentive to accept,” Lord Hosokawa replied promptly. “Many of the most powerful daimyo are tired of being ruled by the Tokugawa. It’s been a hundred years of paying tribute and swallowing their pride. But now the regime’s capital is in ruins, its castle is as full of holes as a sieve, its army is minuscule. Three hundred and fifty-one officials are dead. For the first time in a century, the Tokugawa is vulnerable.”

The secret of the death toll had leaked out, too, Sano realized with alarm.

“In contrast, we daimyo are in good shape,” Lord Hosokawa went on. “Granted, many of us lost estates in Edo and quite a few men, but most of our wealth and property and armies is safe in our provinces. The earthquake has given us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If we band together, we can conquer the Tokugawa and rule Japan.”

Sano stared in shock at Lord Hosokawa, a friend suddenly turned potential enemy, the regime’s worst fear embodied. “Are you one of the daimyo who want to strike at the Tokugawa regime while it’s down?”

“Of course not,” Lord Hosokawa said. “You know me better than that.” But an unfamiliar brazenness in his eyes told Sano that he didn’t know this man at all. Deranged by his daughters’ death, Lord Hosokawa had absorbed the evil that had pervaded the air since the earthquake, that led people to do things they never would under normal circumstances. “Mine is the voice that’s urging the hotheads to keep the peace. My clan is a barricade between them and the shogun. But that will change unless you do as I ask. Catch my daughters’ killer, or I’ll join forces with the others, fight alongside them in a civil war, and ensure their victory.”

Flabbergasted, Sano stood. “That’s blackmail.” He had a nightmarish feeling that had plagued him since the earthquake, that the world had become a place of madness.

Lord Hosokawa rose, meeting Sano’s gaze. “It’s the length I’ll go to to secure your cooperation.”

“It’s treason to even talk about a revolt, let alone conspire to start one! It’s punishable by death!”

“It’s only punishable if the revolt fails. If it succeeds, the shogun will be in no position to deprive us of our heads.”

Sano grabbed Lord Hosokawa by the shoulders. “Stop this!”

Lord Hosokawa emitted a sound that was half moan, half chuckle, and all awareness that he’d put himself in grave danger. He resembled a man who is crossing a river that gets deeper with his every step. He gazed at Sano as if Sano had thrown him a rope while the current swept him down a waterfall. “It’s too late. I’ve already said too much.”

“I’ll have to report it to the shogun,” Sano said with regret. This was a double tragedy-first his daughters murdered; now Lord Hosokawa would go down for treason, his clan dissolved, its wealth confiscated. There seemed no end to the evils following the earthquake.

“No, I don’t think you’ll report me,” Lord Hosokawa said, suddenly crafty.

Sano tightened his face so it wouldn’t show the fear that trickled through him. “Why not? Because you’re going to kill me before I can leave this house?” He was alone here, his few troops outside no match for the Hosokawa army.

“Certainly not. Remember, I need you to investigate my daughters’ murders. You will decide for yourself that it’s better not to tell the shogun what has passed between us.”

As Sano frowned in disbelief, Lord Hosokawa said, “Think about what will happen if you tell. The bakufu will send what’s left of the Tokugawa army to arrest me and the other daimyo. Then we’ll have no choice but to fight. What would we have to lose?”

“You won’t win,” Sano said, trying to convince himself as well as Lord Hosokawa. “The Tokugawa branch clans and hereditary allies will support the regime.”

“You know they’re as weakened as the government,” Lord Hosokawa said. “Their domains are located near Edo, in the earthquake zone. Before they can get their troops provisioned and their rear ends on horseback, we’ll have our armies on the march from all over Japan, fully supplied with food, equipment, and ammunition.”

Appalled by this all-too-realistic scenario, Sano said, “It won’t work. You can’t coerce me into doing what you want.”

“If you bring my daughters’ killer to justice, I’ll hold off the rebels. They can’t win without me. I’ll hand over the money to you and persuade them that it’s better to donate money to rebuild Edo and shore up the Tokugawa regime than to gamble on coming out on top after a civil war. But if you don’t, you’ll be to blame for the end of the Tokugawa reign because you wouldn’t give up a few days of your precious time. Neither you nor your family will survive the wrath of the shogun, who will see you as the traitor.” Mournful yet triumphant, Lord Hosokawa said, “So, Chamberlain Sano: Which will it be?”

Sano felt the sting of betrayal, the burn of outrage. Never had he been subjected to such a devious form of pressure to solve a crime, and from a friend, yet! Never had the price of refusal or failure been greater. He was as trapped as the earthquake victims who’d been buried inside their collapsed houses.

Nodding in defeat, he said, “May the gods damn you to hell!”