The Iris Fan

17

Sano, Yanagisawa, Yoshisato, and Lord Ienobu exited the palace. A crowd of officials, troops, and servants outside, abuzz with gossip and speculation, halted them on the veranda. Yoshisato smiled and bowed to them. They quieted, gawking at the soul risen from the dead. Sano saw Masahiro in the back, craning his neck. Yanagisawa spoke into the pool of silence.

“The shogun has renamed Lord Yoshisato as his heir. Lord Yoshisato is now the Acting Shogun.” Yanagisawa’s voice rang with triumph.

Exclamations burst from the crowd. Sano recognized officials who were Ienobu’s allies, saw panic on their faces. Under his stoic manner he, too, was reeling with shock. Never had he imagined that the investigation he’d started four years ago would end like this. He was delighted to have Ienobu knocked out of first place in line for the succession, but he’d delivered control of the regime into the hands of Yanagisawa and his pawn.

Yoshisato stepped forward. An anxious hush descended as his new subjects waited for the changes they knew would come. “Many thanks for coming to welcome me back.” He surely knew that many of these men were loyal to Ienobu, but he spoke as if to friends. “I shall visit each of your departments soon. You shall brief me about everything that has happened while I’ve been away, and we shall discuss how we can work together on behalf of my father’s government.”

Before the fire, Yoshisato had asked Sano to be part of a coalition to improve the government, stamp out corruption, and reduce political strife. Evidently he still wanted the coalition; he was still idealistic. But his pleasant words to Ienobu’s friends contained a threat: Switch your allegiance to me, or woe betide you. He was making good use of his experience as a gangster boss, but that didn’t alleviate Sano’s qualms.

The crowd quickly dispersed. Only Masahiro, the sentries, and Yoshisato’s gangsters remained. Sano supposed that everyone else was eager to discuss this historic event, spread the news, and figure out how to survive the coup. “Find your mother and tell her what happened,” Sano said to Masahiro. She wasn’t going to be pleased. He couldn’t leave yet, and if she couldn’t hear it directly from him, better Masahiro than the gossips.

Masahiro ran off to obey. Yanagisawa and Yoshisato faced Lord Ienobu. Vindictive satisfaction shone in their eyes, but Sano perceived a strange, uncomfortable air between the two.

“How does it feel to have the power shifted to the other hand?” Yanagisawa gloated.

Fuming yet helpless, Ienobu started to sidle around his two enemies.

“Not so fast,” Yoshisato said. “Here’s my first order to you: Vacate the heir’s residence by sundown.”

Ienobu spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ll see the two of you in hell before I let you rule Japan.” He scuttled away like a fleeing cockroach.

“I’ve waited four years for this day,” Yanagisawa said, watching Ienobu’s retreat.

“So have I,” Yoshisato said.

Sano had noticed that they hadn’t looked at each other since he’d sprung Yoshisato on the shogun. They were a united front against Ienobu, yet somehow divided. Yoshisato said to Sano, “We’ll talk soon.”

Yanagisawa’s eyes narrowed with disapproval at this hint of camaraderie. Sano found himself caught in a familiar spot-between his liking for Yoshisato, his bad blood with Yanagisawa, and his duty. “Talk about what?” Sano asked Yoshisato. “The fact that you’re Yanagisawa-san’s son and not the shogun’s?”

“Oh, come now, you can’t really want to fight about that again!” Yanagisawa regarded Sano with exasperation.

Much as he liked Yoshisato, Sano resisted being sucked into an allegiance with him. “You shouldn’t be allowed to inherit the dictatorship. You’re a fraud.” And Yanagisawa was his partner in his fraud and his quest to seize power.

“So why did you bring me to the palace? You knew the shogun would rename me his heir.” Antagonism tinged Yoshisato’s voice. Sano had the peculiar sense that he really had died in the fire and been reincarnated as this gangster who would thrash anyone who crossed him. “Why didn’t you tell Lord Ienobu that I was in town and let him do away with me?”

“Because the shogun deserved to know the truth about what happened to you. Because Ienobu engineered the death of the shogun’s daughter even though he didn’t kill you.”

“Which means you have to choose between a fraud and a murderer,” Yanagisawa said.

“That’s no choice!” Sano was exasperated, too. “Neither Yoshisato nor Ienobu deserves to be the next shogun! And you certainly don’t deserve to control the regime.”

“One or the other of us will be,” Yoshisato said, “and I’m the top contender, not to mention Acting Shogun.”

The threat gleamed like a knife blade through his civil manner. And Sano had once thought that Yoshisato had inherited none of Yanagisawa’s ruthlessness! By bringing Yoshisato back to court had he supplanted Ienobu with a worse villain?

Yoshisato read the dismay and confusion on his face and smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to have your head for defying me. I’m going to help you do something you’ve been wanting for four years-deliver Lord Ienobu to justice.”

Sano chuckled at the irony of one criminal offering to help him get another. “Lord Ienobu’s not the only one who should be delivered to justice.” His gaze encompassed both Yoshisato and Yanagisawa.

“We’ve more important things to do than fight among ourselves,” Yanagisawa said impatiently. “You once asked me to help you prove that Lord Ienobu murdered Yoshisato. That’s obviously impossible, but Yoshisato and I can offer you a sweeter deal: We’ll help you prove that Ienobu was behind the assassination attempt on the shogun.”

The offer was like a strange new breed of flower spawned from the alien soil laid down by today’s events. Sano couldn’t ignore its allure. With Yanagisawa’s cooperation instead of his hindrance, it would be easier for Sano to solve the crime, do his duty by the shogun, and destroy Ienobu. But Sano smelled poison at the flower’s heart.

“What about the other suspects?” Sano asked.

“What about them?” Yoshisato’s tone was dismissive. “You think Lord Ienobu is guilty. So do we.” He and Yanagisawa behaved as if each were alone with Sano yet keenly aware of the other. “The evidence will bear it out. You’ll just find it faster with our help.”

Sano also knew better than to trust the notoriously unscrupulous Yanagisawa, to whom the truth meant little and victory everything. And Yoshisato was a wild card, unpredictable. “Suppose we prove that Ienobu is guilty?” Sano asked. “Then what? He’s put to death; you the fraud become the next shogun. That’s a violation of samurai duty, loyalty, and honor!”

“Forget Bushido for a moment. Suppose you refuse us and you don’t prove he’s guilty?” Yanagisawa said. “You’d be giving Ienobu a chance to bite you again another day. If he manages to become the next shogun, it won’t be just Yoshisato and me he’ll put to death. Do you think he’ll let you live?”

Here was the crux of his dilemma, the devil’s bargain Sano had to make. How drastically the new circumstances had changed the political arena! With Yoshisato restored as the official heir, Lord Ienobu unwilling to give up his hope of ruling Japan someday, and the shogun in bad shape, the battle over the succession was a whole new game. The stakes in his investigation had risen drastically.

The results would determine who inherited the dictatorship and who died.

Sano looked back over his long feud with Yanagisawa. If Yanagisawa came out on top in the war with Ienobu, would he let Sano and his family live?

The choice came down to the fact that Sano believed Ienobu was guilty of the attack on the shogun and so did Yoshisato and Yanagisawa. That gave Sano more in common with them than with Ienobu. “All right,” Sano said reluctantly. “We’ll work together.”

Heading back to the Large Interior to resume his investigation, he wondered what form Yanagisawa’s participation would take.

* * *

While she searched Lady Nobuko’s quarters, Reiko took a spiteful pleasure in riffling through cabinets, messing the piles of neatly folded clothes and bedding. Lady Nobuko angrily watched her every move.

“Be careful, you idiot!” Lady Nobuko said.

Reiko went to Lady Nobuko’s dressing table and disarranged the little celadon-glazed porcelain jars of medicines and hair oil. Lady Nobuko snatched them out of her hands and put them back in order. Reiko scattered writing supplies, ledgers, and papers in the office niche. Still tormented by Lady Nobuko’s cruelty, and still close to tears, she didn’t know what, except for bloodstains, she was seeking. The need to find evidence paled before her need to keep busy so she wouldn’t break down. She went through all three rooms. Lady Nobuko hobbled after her with a look savage enough to disembowel.

“Help me lift the tatami,” Reiko ordered the lady-in-waiting.

They pulled up the heavy straw mats. Reiko looked under each, inspected the floor for secret compartments. In the privy-a little shed connected to the building by an enclosed corridor-she peered into the malodorous basin set on the ground beneath the raised floor. She went outside and searched the bamboo thickets, then yanked off one of the lattice panels that covered the foundation of the building and crawled around under the house. An hour later, she was tired and cold, her clothes dirty. She found no bloody socks. She had a vague yet troubling sense that she’d missed something. There must be incriminating evidence here, but she’d been too upset and distracted to recognize it. She couldn’t hear the voice of her intuition.

She was failing at a time when she, and Sano, couldn’t afford a single misstep. Each misstep decreased their chances of victory over Lord Ienobu.

“Are you satisfied?” Lady Nobuko asked as she followed Reiko to the gate to make sure she left.

“No.” Ashamed of her haphazard effort, Reiko added with false bravado, “You haven’t seen the last of me.”

“Leave me alone, or you’ll wish you’d seen the last of me,” Lady Nobuko said. “Lord Ienobu and I can make things worse for your family than we already have.”

Masahiro burst through the gate, breathless and upset. Reiko asked, “What’s wrong?”

Lady Nobuko grimaced in annoyance. “Is your whole family going to invade my home?” She and Masahiro glared at each other.

There was bad blood between them, too; it stemmed from the events following Yoshisato’s murder. Lady Nobuko had known who had set the fire, but she’d kept quiet when she should have told the shogun and prevented Sano from being charged with arson and murder. When the truth had finally come out, it had set off a chase that had almost killed Masahiro. He blamed his brush with death on Lady Nobuko’s lie by omission. So did Reiko. She hated Lady Nobuko for that as much as for her part in the loss of the baby.

“Get out,” Lady Nobuko ordered Masahiro. He’d done nothing to hurt her, but her dislike of Sano and Reiko extended to their son.

“Not until I’ve told my mother the news,” Masahiro said. “You’ll want to hear it, too. Yoshisato is alive.”

It sounded so incredible, Reiko felt nothing but irritation. “Where did you hear that gossip?”

“It’s not gossip. It’s true! Yoshisato didn’t die in the fire. He’s back! I just saw him. He’s here in the castle.”

Reiko’s heart slammed in her chest like a pounded drum. The man that everyone had thought had been murdered more than four years ago hadn’t been murdered at all. Sano’s crusade to put the blame for Yoshisato’s death on Lord Ienobu had been for naught.

“Yoshisato is the shogun’s heir again,” Masahiro said. “He’s also Acting Shogun.”

Reiko was too stunned to perceive all the ramifications. She stammered, “But how did Yoshisato get out of the fire alive? Where did he come from?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Father.”

Confusion assailed Reiko. “How would he know?” Sano had given her no hint of this miracle or disaster or whatever it was.

“He’s with Yoshisato at the palace.”

A scream that deepened into a groan issued from Lady Nobuko. Her good eye rolled up in its socket. She fell in a limp faint, her head striking a stone lantern beside the path. A gash on her temple spilled red blood onto the snow.