The Perfumed Sleeve

22

Thousands of soldiers marched through Edo. Banner bearers waved flags; horses in battle caparison carried swordsmen, archers sporting bows and arrows, and gunners equipped with arquebuses. Foot soldiers held their spears high. Pale rays of morning sun glinted on armor. As the armies moved along the main street, commanders shouted orders; drummers conveyed signals to troops. War trumpets blared while townspeople exclaimed at the sight of such a great military force, unseen since the civil wars that had ended almost a century ago.

A short distance away, Reiko and three other maids walked behind a palanquin in which rode Senior Elder Makino’s widow and concubine. Mounted guards and male servants on foot escorted the women. Reiko shivered with cold in her thin cloak and cotton robes, hungry after a meager breakfast of gruel and tea, fatigued from her first night in the servants’ quarters of Makino’s estate.

It had been almost midnight when the servants were finally excused from work. Reiko had endured a bath in a communal tub of scummy, lukewarm water, then retired to quarters so crowded that she could hardly move on her narrow pallet without bumping someone. Snores, coughs, mutters, and biting fleas kept her awake. Before dawn, the housekeeper Yasue had bustled through the room, beating wooden clappers and ordering everyone out of bed. She’d allowed them barely enough time to dash to the reeking privies outside and wash themselves with ice-cold water in buckets. Then Reiko had cleaned fish until sent out with Agemaki and Okitsu on a shopping expedition. At last she had another chance to spy on them.

Now a horde of troops galloped by, squeezing Reiko and her companions against a wall. Reiko was alarmed to see the Matsudaira and Yanagisawa clan crests on their armor. Excited cries arose from the other maids: “Where can all those soldiers be going? What’s happening?”

Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa must have declared war, Reiko realized. What had finally ignited the war? Cut off from her husband, Reiko could only wonder. But she had a premonition that solving the murder case might be more important now than ever. As the procession began moving again, she hurried after Agemaki and Okitsu.

Lady Yanagisawa disembarked from her palanquin outside the sōsakan-sama’s estate. Her legs were so wobbly and her head so dizzy that she almost fell. Recent, momentous events in her life had caused her a turmoil never before experienced. Her body still burned with the memory of the chamberlain’s caresses; she heard again his every tender word. But other, less pleasant memories intruded.

The conditions attached to his love were even more appalling than Lady Yanagisawa had at first thought. A black, noxious cesspool in her mind churned with thoughts she didn’t want to think. Nausea born of guilt and revulsion spoiled her anticipation of the rewards to come. She wavered among exhilaration, horror, and the temptation to give up now and avoid further torment. But she’d come this far, and the gods hadn’t struck her down as punishment for treachery committed or intended. She must go the rest of the way toward fulfilling her husband’s wishes.

She stumbled up to the guards at the gate and said, “I want to see Lady Reiko.”

“She isn’t here,” said a guard.

Lady Yanagisawa gasped and stared in surprise. She hadn’t expected to be thwarted by the simple mishap of Reiko’s absence. Her need to please her husband reinforced her need to be with her friend. Struck by her constant suspicion that Reiko wished to avoid her, she told the guard, “I don’t believe you.” Her voice shook as tremors rippled her muscles. “Take me to Lady Reiko at once!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible,” the other guard said. “When she returns, I’ll tell her you called.”

Crazed by frustration, Lady Yanagisawa began screaming at the men. The commotion brought one of the sōsakan-sama’s detectives hurrying out the gate. He tried to calm her while she demanded to see Reiko.

“You can come back later,” he said.

“I know she’s here!” Lady Yanagisawa shrieked. “She has to receive me!”

After much argument, the detective said, “Very well-you can see for yourself that Lady Reiko isn’t home.”

Lady Yanagisawa ran in the gate, past the barracks, and across the courtyard; the detective hurried after her. She rushed through the mansion to the private quarters. Maids busy with their chores exclaimed in surprise. Lady Yanagisawa burst, panting and wild-eyed, into the nursery. There, the old nursemaid O-sugi sat playing with Reiko’s little son Masahiro amid his toys. But Reiko was nowhere in sight.

“Where is your mistress?” Lady Yanagisawa demanded.

O-sugi regarded her with stern disapproval. “Not here. She left yesterday.”

“Where did she go?” Hysteria rose in Lady Yanagisawa.

“I don’t know.”

“When will she be back?”

The old nursemaid shook her head. The detective propelled Lady Yanagisawa from the house. Lady Yanagisawa uttered a groan of despair. Everyone was in league against her, conspiring to deny her access to Reiko and her chance to carry out her husband’s wishes. But her determination strengthened, even as a voice inside her whispered that Reiko’s absence was a sign from fate that she could renege on her bargain with the chamberlain and lessen the measure of her sins. She must find Reiko. She must do whatever was necessary to win the love of her husband and satisfy the desires he’d awakened in her.

The palanquin that carried Makino’s widow and concubine stopped at Yanagiya, a shop in the Nihonbashi merchant district. Lanterns painted with a willow-tree crest decorated the eaves of the shop. Women inspected goods displayed on stands outside its open storefront. Their gaily colored cloaks brightened the drab, gray morning. Male clerks proclaimed the virtues of their wares and urged the women to buy.

“How wonderful it is to get outside and see people!” Okitsu exclaimed as the bearers set down the palanquin. “This is such a nice change from staying home!”

“You’ve said that at least a hundred times,” Agemaki said. “Do curb your tendency to repeat yourself. A little variety would improve your conversation.”

As usual, Agemaki hid her dislike of Okitsu behind a false, affectionate smile. Okitsu, easily deceived as always, took no offense at the rebuke. “Thank you for your kind advice,” she said with sincere affection. “And thank you for inviting me to go shopping with you.”

While they climbed out of the palanquin, Agemaki resisted the urge to remind Okitsu that she hadn’t been invited. Agemaki had meant this trip as an escape from the gloom of her dead husband’s estate, as well as a distraction from the worrisome events that had followed the murder. She’d also wanted to escape the other inhabitants of the private chambers, who were a daily, sore vexation to her. But Okitsu had spotted her on her way out.

“Where are you going?” Okitsu had said. When told, she’d run after Agemaki. “I’m going with you.”

Agemaki had let Okitsu come because she had to pretend she liked the stupid little hussy. She’d been pretending ever since Senior Elder Makino had bought Okitsu. And she must pretend awhile longer, for her own good.

They entered the Yanagiya. Their maids followed them into a large room crowded with chattering customers. Shelves on the walls held pretty ceramic jars of the face powder, rouge, and scented oil that had made the Yanagiya a favorite among the women of Edo. Clerks rushed about, serving their customers and calculating prices on the beads of their soroban. Jasmine, orange blossom, and ginger perfumed the air. The proprietor, a sleek man with a fawning smile, greeted and bowed to Agemaki.

“I want to see whatever you have that’s new,” Agemaki said.

“Of course, Honorable Lady Makino.”

The proprietor whisked her and Okitsu into a small private room reserved for important customers and seated them at a dressing table and mirror. A curtain secluded them from the bustle in the shop. He and a clerk began wiping the makeup off Agemaki’s and Okitsu’s faces, preparing to demonstrate the new cosmetics. Agemaki watched in the mirror as their naked features emerged. Her skin was sallow and dry, faintly sunken beneath the cheekbones. But Okitsu’s youthful complexion was fair, smooth, and perfect. Okitsu smiled at their reflections while Agemaki seethed with jealousy.

Throughout her marriage to Senior Elder Makino, she’d lived in fear that he would tire of her, for he’d been a man who needed novelty to satisfy his pride and keep him aroused. And he’d preferred his women young. Agemaki had never loved Makino, but she’d loved the status that marriage to him conferred upon her, and she’d loved the things his money bought. She’d labored to preserve the youth and beauty that had attracted her husband, but Makino had begun seeking amusement in the pleasure quarters instead of her bedchamber. Her attempts to entice him back all failed. On the day Okitsu became his concubine, Agemaki knew her days as his wife were numbered; she had no family or political connections to bind Makino to her. But she’d refused to give up her husband without a fight.

Now the proprietor daubed fresh makeup onto her face. “This is the finest, whitest rice powder, mixed with the best-quality camellia wax,” he said.

Okitsu, receiving the same treatment from the clerk, said, “Look, Agemaki-san, it almost hides those terrible wrinkles around your eyes and mouth.”

Offense at the careless insult stoked the jealous rage in Agemaki. She could almost see flames leaping in the eyes of her reflection. Not for the first time she wanted to smack Okitsu. But instead Agemaki smiled. “It’s too bad that makeup can’t hide rudeness or stupidity,” she said in the sweetest voice she could manage.

Okitsu laughed in delight as if Agemaki had made a joke, unaware of the barb directed at her. Agemaki never permitted herself to vent her emotions toward Okitsu in any other way. Because she’d known that making ugly scenes would only disgust her husband, she’d graciously welcomed Okitsu into their home. She’d befriended the girl and suffered silently as she listened to her husband play sexual games with Okitsu and that despicable actor. Most important, she’d never given the slightest hint that she hated Makino for shunning her in favor of his new woman and feared he would cast her off. She’d bided her time, scheming how to take her revenge on him. Now her self-control was benefiting her in a way she’d not foreseen.

The shogun’s sōsakan-sama had questioned her after the murder because he obviously thought she might have killed her husband. Yet she needn’t fear him, even though she’d been in the private chambers that night and she was the wife supplanted by a younger rival. Her behavior testified that she didn’t mind about Okitsu. Nobody could tell the sōsakan-sama otherwise. All she need do to prevent his suspicion was continue acting the demure, grieving widow.

The proprietor and clerk painted Agemaki’s and Okitsu’s cheeks and lips with rouge. “What do you think?” said the proprietor.

Okitsu viewed her reflection and gasped with delight. “I look beautiful!” Glancing at Agemaki, she said with an unflattering lack of enthusiasm, “You look better than usual.”

Agemaki managed a grim smile.

“We have new potions for softening calluses,” said the proprietor. “Would you like to try them?” When the women agreed, he immersed their hands and feet in basins of fragrant oil. Then he and the clerk left to attend other customers.

“I’m so worried about Koheiji and me,” Okitsu said.

Agemaki prepared to endure another tiresome discussion about Okitsu’s romantic affairs. She always marveled that the girl would talk about them to anyone willing to listen. She wasn’t as discreet as Agemaki, who knew that she must not say anything that would put her in a bad light.

“I love Koheiji so much,” Okitsu said. “Sometimes I think he loves me, and other times I’m not so sure.” Her anxious gaze met Agemaki’s eyes in the mirror. “Do you think he loves me?”

“I think he loves you as much as it’s possible for him to love anyone.” Besides himself, the conceited oaf, thought Agemaki. “You give him such pleasure.” And that’s the only reason he wants a whining, clinging nuisance like you. “Accept what he’s capable of giving. Don’t expect more.” Because if you nag him, you’ll lose him, and you’ll cry while I laugh.

A breathy sigh issued from Okitsu. “I guess you’re right,” she said doubtfully. “But do you think he’ll marry me?

“If you make a special pilgrimage to Kannei Temple, maybe he will.” And maybe monkeys will fly.

Reassured, Okitsu smiled. “I’m so glad I have you to talk to. You’re so wise, even though it must be hard for you to understand what it’s like to be young and in love.”

Agemaki gritted her teeth while her hands curled into claws in the basin of oil. She envisioned bloody red scratches on Okitsu’s face. “Someday you’ll understand that you don’t know as much as you thought you did when you were young. If you live long enough.”

Blind to Agemaki’s implicit threat, Okitsu said, “Oh, I forgot-you have experienced love. You were in love with Senior Elder Makino. But I can’t imagine how you could love that mean, ugly old man.” Okitsu gave an exaggerated shudder of revulsion.

Agemaki wished the sōsakan-sama were here to see how much Okitsu had hated Makino. He would arrest Okitsu for the murder, which would delight Agemaki. “I loved my husband for his excellent qualities,” Agemaki said. Money and power excused most evils in a man.

Okitsu looked unconvinced. “You didn’t mind when I came along. You’ve always been so nice to me. If some woman had a man I wanted, I would hate her. I think I’d kill her.”

Agemaki remembered slipping poisonous herbs into an old lady’s tea. “A man can always get more women,” she said. “One can’t do away with all of one’s competition.” She knew there were people who suspected that she’d killed Makino’s first wife. If not for fear that another mysterious death of a woman in his household would get her in trouble, Agemaki would have dispatched Okitsu to the netherworld a long time ago.

“But weren’t you furious at Makino? I’ve never seen him pay you any attention. He didn’t want you; he wanted me.” Okitsu spoke as though it were an indisputable truth that any man in his right mind would prefer her to Agemaki. Completely insensitive to Agemaki’s feelings, she said, “If a man treated me like that, I’d kill him.”

Resentment stung Agemaki. “If Koheiji did, you would fall on your knees to welcome him back,” she said.

Okitsu gazed at her in wounded surprise. “I wouldn’t!”

Agemaki thought perhaps she’d gone too far and revealed too much of her true feelings to Okitsu. “I’m just teasing you,” she said with a kindly smile. “But let us imagine that Koheiji did betray you. Then you would do better to kill him than kill all your rivals. You’d have a better chance of getting away with one murder than with many. And to punish him would be more satisfying than to waste your vengeance on people who don’t matter as much.”

The night Senior Elder Makino died, Agemaki had exulted in having him helpless at her mercy. Such savage joy of venting her rage at him for the humiliation he’d caused her! In some ways his death hadn’t been as good as she’d hoped, but she’d decided that things had turned out for the best.

“No matter what Koheiji did to me or how badly I felt toward him, I would miss him if he died,” said Okitsu.

“A woman does tend to miss a man,” Agemaki said, “especially when he’s given her everything she has in the world.” She thought fondly of the big estate in Edo Castle, the servants, the expensive clothes. “But the company of a man is worth much less than what he leaves behind after he has gone to his grave.” Agemaki cherished the money Makino had left her. “And when a woman has managed to secure her future, she has no need of any man-or fear of any rival. No one can take away what’s rightfully hers.”

Gone was her privileged status as the senior elder’s wife, but luckily he’d died before he’d divorced Agemaki, remarried, and reneged on the inheritance he’d promised her. Agemaki was glad she’d behaved with shrewdness rather than follow her emotions. And as long as she continued thus, she wouldn’t be punished for Makino’s murder. Everything would be fine.

Reiko hovered outside the private room of the Yanagiya, peering through a gap in the curtains at Agemaki and Okitsu, astounded by what she’d heard.

None of the words Agemaki had spoken showed her to be anything but the decent, honorable widow that Sano had described, the wife who’d gladly tolerated her beloved husband’s infidelity. But Reiko had perceived her subtle expressions and the undertones in her voice, even though Okitsu was apparently oblivious to them. They painted Agemaki as a jealous, deceitful woman who hated Okitsu for taking her place in Makino’s affections and bedchamber.

They were tantamount to a confession that she’d not only killed Makino to punish him and safeguard her inheritance, but previously killed his first wife so she could marry him in the first place.

Yet Agemaki hadn’t actually admitted to the crimes. She hadn’t said anything that couldn’t be interpreted some other way than Reiko had, or that Sano would deem proof of her guilt. Reiko needed more evidence besides veiled remarks and her own intuition.

The proprietor brushed past Reiko and entered the private room. Reiko heard him selling Agemaki and Okitsu the merchandise they’d tried. Soon the two women left the shop and climbed into their palanquin. Reiko and the other maids followed them down the street, laden with packages tied in cloth bundles. As they wended through the daimyo district toward Edo Castle, Reiko saw soldiers pouring out from the walled estates and palanquins filled with women and children, escorted by mounted troops and followed by servants carrying baggage. The feudal lords were evacuating their families-a sure sign that war had begun.

A sudden thought distracted Reiko from her fear. Since beginning her employment as a maid and spy in Makino’s house, she’d not had any bad spells. Had her mind been too occupied for the evil magic to penetrate? Maybe real dangers had exorcised the imaginary ones that haunted her. But there was no such ready cure for the evils that now threatened all of Japan.