The Iris Fan

12

Sano followed the guard to a room down the passage. Inside a samurai was arguing with another guard. Tomoe stood watching anxiously, her hands tucked inside the sleeves of her white robe.

“She’s my cousin.” His back to Sano, the samurai held a wicker hat in his gloved hand and gestured with it at Tomoe. His proud posture made him seem taller than his average height. His copper-colored, padded silk cloak was damp from the snow. He wore two swords with elaborate gold inlays at his waist. “I’m the head of our clan. She’s under my protection.”

“Who are you?” Sano asked.

The samurai turned. He bore a disconcerting resemblance to the shogun. If one shaved about thirty-five years off the shogun’s age, and gave him a backbone, this man would be the result. Sano recognized him. “Honorable Lord Tokugawa Yoshimune.”

“Greetings, Sano-san.” Lord Yoshimune’s speech was confident instead of hesitant like the shogun’s, his refined features firmly set instead of slack. He wasn’t handsome, but his eyes had a hard, clear look of intelligence that made him attractive.

As they exchanged bows, Sano recalled that Yoshimune was a second cousin to the shogun and Lord Ienobu. He belonged to the Tokugawa branch clan that ruled Kii Province, a rich yet troubled agricultural region. He’d become the daimyo of it at the young age of twenty-one, after his father and elder brothers died. His clan had been in debt to the government for many years and still owed a fortune in tributes, and two years ago a tsunami had destroyed villages and killed many people in his province. Yoshimune had taken strong measures to help the survivors, trim expenses, and reduce the debt. With a growing reputation as an expert in finance and administration, he was spoken of as a new player on the political scene.

“The guards outside told me you were investigating the attack,” Yoshimune said.

“How did you get past them?” Sano asked.

“I convinced them that letting me in would cause less trouble than trying to keep me out.” Yoshimune said with a brash, youthful grin, “I brought some of my army along. That usually opens doors.”

“I didn’t know Tomoe was your cousin,” Sano said.

“Third cousin. She’s been a concubine since last year.”

Noble families, Tokugawa branch clans included, sent their girls to the palace on the off chance that the shogun would father a son on them. A son eligible to inherit the regime would make the sacrifice worthwhile.

“Would you have treated Tomoe more kindly if you’d known she was my cousin?” Hostility tightened Yoshimune’s expression. “I came as soon as I heard the news about the shogun and you’d already broken down a door and terrified her. I’m taking her home with me.” He turned to Tomoe. She smiled gratefully at him. His manner turned gentle. “Put on some warm clothes. It’s cold outside.”

Tomoe sidled to a cupboard and took out a cloak and sandals. Sano blocked the door. “She’s not leaving.”

“You can’t seriously believe she stabbed the shogun?”

“She doesn’t have an alibi, and she wouldn’t explain why she was taking a bath in the middle of the night.”

Tomoe stood on tiptoe to whisper in Yoshimune’s ear. As he listened, his hand clasped her waist in a gesture more intimate than a man of his station would normally use toward a younger, distant, female relative. He conveyed her words to Sano. “She can’t take baths while the other concubines are around. They hold her head under the water. Plain girls like to pick on the pretty one.” He asked Tomoe, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she murmured.

“Well, you should have. I’d have taken you away sooner.”

Pity for Tomoe didn’t change Sano’s mind. “She’s still a suspect. She stays here, under house arrest, until my investigation is finished.”

“She can be under house arrest at my estate.”

Sano began to see that this crime might not be as straightforward as he’d first thought. Nor did Yoshimune’s turning up to rescue his cousin seem innocent. “Why are you so anxious to take her home with you?”

“To protect her.” Impatient, Yoshimune explained, “She grew up in my house. She’s like a sister to me. I don’t want her tormented by you or the girls or anyone else.”

Sano saw Yoshimune’s hand on Tomoe’s waist and suspected that the two were a little more than like brother and sister. He began to see a motive for Tomoe to kill the shogun. “What place in line are you for the succession?”

Startled by the change of topic, Yoshimune said, “Second, after Lord Ienobu. I’m a great-grandson of Tokugawa Ieyasu, who founded the regime.” His eyes narrowed. “But you must have known that. Why did you ask?”

“Do you want to be shogun?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Yoshimune’s laugh was loud, boisterous, uninhibited. “My bad luck, I drew the short straw.”

He wasn’t like the current shogun, who’d always seemed to consider his rank as much a fearful burden as a blessing. Yoshimune was as ambitious as his other cousin, Lord Ienobu. “Did you decide to change your luck?” Sano asked.

Yoshimune was also as mentally adroit as Ienobu. “You’re asking if I arranged the attack?” He laughed again. “If I had, you’d be investigating a murder and not a stabbing. But why would I assassinate the shogun? That would make Ienobu the new shogun, not me.”

“It would make you the new shogun if Lord Ienobu were blamed for murdering the old one and put to death.”

“Oh, I see.” Vexation tinged Yoshimune’s enlightenment. “You think I cooked up a scheme to get rid of the shogun and Ienobu with one swipe. Well, I’m afraid it never occurred to me.” He grinned, pointing a gloved finger at Sano. “It’s a good thing you’re not in line for the succession. You would bump off everybody else who was ahead of you.”

It had been a long, difficult night, and the mockery taxed Sano’s patience. “I don’t believe you never thought about how to put yourself at the head of the dictatorship.” Throughout history samurai had assassinated their relatives in order to gain power. “And you had someone to help you.” He pointed at Tomoe, whose bare toes peeked out from under the hem of her robe. “Her feet match the size of the bloody footprints leading from the shogun’s chamber. Where are her socks?”

“That’s ridiculous. I didn’t send my poor cousin to kill the shogun. I would never.” Yoshimune took the cloak from Tomoe and draped it over her shoulders. “Enough of this!” He thrust his hand against Sano’s chest and shoved.

“Hey!” Taken by surprise, knocked off balance, Sano stumbled out the door. Disagreements at Edo Castle rarely turned physical. Sano had thought he could talk his way around Yoshimune, but the daimyo had yet to tame the short, hot temper of youth. Having gained so much power at such an early age, used to having his own way, he thought himself exempt from protocol. He pulled Tomoe out of the room and hurried her down the corridor.

“Stop!” Sano yelled, running after them.

“Try to make me.” The grin Yoshimune flashed over his shoulder said they both knew that if Sano laid a finger on him, his army would rush to his defense, drag Sano out of the castle, and beat him to a pulp. Sano needed to pick his battles, and this wasn’t a good one, even though he could have gladly fought Lord Yoshimune to the death.

The rude young pup was yet another obstacle between Sano and the truth about the most important crime of his career.

Following Yoshimune and Tomoe outside the palace, Sano blinked in the sudden brightness. The morning sky was white with opaque clouds. Snowflakes materialized out of it and swirled before Sano’s tired eyes as he halted on the veranda. Yoshimune paused to help Tomoe put on her shoes, then led her down the steps. Troops standing around the palace let the couple pass.

“If you have any more questions for her, you can ask them at my estate,” Yoshimune called before the troops closed ranks and he and Tomoe disappeared from Sano’s view.

Manabe chuckled at Sano’s frustration. Masahiro came out the door and said, “What was that about?”

“That was one of our suspects escaping.” Sano explained about Tomoe and Yoshimune.

“I talked to Dengoro, the shogun’s boy,” Masahiro said. “He said he thought he heard Tomoe’s voice right after the stabbing.”

Sano rubbed his forehead in dismay. This was more evidence that pointed to Tomoe, she’d just absconded, and the investigation was leading away from Lord Ienobu.

“But Dengoro also said he thought he saw Lady Nobuko and smelled Madam Chizuru’s hair oil. So we’d better not trust anything he says.”

Detective Marume and Captain Hosono joined them. Marume said, “That’s the worst kind of witness-the kind that makes things up.”

Sano was disappointed because the shogun’s boy couldn’t identify the attacker. “Have you finished searching the Large Interior?”

“Yes,” Marume said, dejected. “No bloody socks. Not a thing out of the ordinary. And the snow under the windows was undisturbed. There’s no sign that anybody tossed anything out or climbed through them.”

“So we’re left with Tomoe, Madam Chizuru, and Lady Nobuko as suspects, and without any evidence to say which is guilty.” Sano was discouraged, but at least the array of suspects was still narrow, manageable. He asked Captain Hosono, “How is the shogun?”

“He’s asleep. The guards and the physician are with him.”

“At least he’s still alive,” Marume said.

But Sano knew that didn’t guarantee his recovery. Sano had to prove that Lord Ienobu was responsible for the stabbing before the shogun died. If he couldn’t, then Lord Ienobu would inherit the dictatorship and there would be no way to hold him accountable even if he was guilty.

“People are starting to show up for work.” Captain Hosono gestured beyond the cordon to the growing crowd of officials. “Can I let them in?”

“Yes,” Sano said. The government had to continue its business despite the circumstances. “I’m finished here for the time being.”