The Samurai’s Wife

7

A series of hoots and yelps sounded outside the Purple Dragon Hall, where Sano, Yoriki Hoshina, and Right Minister Ichijo waited with Emperor Tomohito.

“Momo-chan!” the emperor called from his throne. “Come in here.”

The side door opened. A small, skinny young man, perhaps a few years older than Tomohito, entered. He approached the emperor with a jerky stride. The strange noises issued from his mouth; his head tossed like a horse’s. As he knelt near the throne, courtiers looked away from him; their mouths tightened with the disgust usually accorded cripples. Sano stared, unable to hide his shock.

“My cousin, Prince Momozono,” the emperor announced.

Right Minister Ichijo whispered to Sano: “The prince is a hopeless idiot who can’t control himself.”

But Momozono was clearly trying. His jaws clenched in an effort to silence the sounds; his mournful eyes rolled. Sweat beaded his thin, pallid face. When he bowed to the emperor, his left arm suddenly shot up into the air. He forced it down with his right hand.

Tomohito said, “Momo-chan, this is Sōsakan Sano,” with an impudent glance at Ichijo and the attendants, as though he enjoyed subjecting them to his cousin’s loathsome presence; he didn’t seem to share their disgust. “He wants to find out who killed Left Minister Konoe.”

“I b-beg to be of assistance,” said Prince Momozono. He let out more hoots, then cried, “A thousand apologies!”

On the way to the palace, when Sano had asked Hoshina about the prince, Hoshina had said, “Momozono is the emperor’s pet.” However, the yoriki’s description of the prince had failed to prepare Sano for the appalling spectacle of him.

“The two of you discovered Left Minister Konoe’s body together?” Sano addressed the emperor, too startled to think of communicating with his cousin.

Right Minister Ichijo said, “Really, Your Majesty, I don’t think it’s necessary for Prince Momozono to be present.” Distaste curdled his polite tone. “You can answer the sōsakan-sama’s questions by yourself.”

“Momo-chan can stay if he wants,” the emperor said. Turning to his cousin, he said, “Do you?”

“Yes, p-please!” Prince Momozono’s hands flapped.

Sano observed the devotion in his eyes and the entreaty in his voice: The “pet” adored its master. Pity alleviated Sano’s initial repugnance. Sano also perceived shame in Momozono’s blinking eyes: He had the wits to know how repulsive he was.

Folding his arms, Tomohito glared down at his subjects. “If any of you don’t like it, you can leave.”

No one did. In a low aside, Ichijo said to Sano, “Please pardon the inconvenience.”

“That’s quite all right.” Sano understood the embarrassment that having an idiot in their midst must cause the Imperial Court, even while he regretted their cruel attitude toward Momozono. He said to the boys, “Tell me how you happened to find Left Minister Konoe’s body.”

While Momozono hooted and tossed his head, Tomohito said, “We heard a scream in the garden, so we went to see what it was. We saw the left minister lying by the cottage.”

“Did you see anyone else there?” Sano asked.

“Everyone c-came right after us,” Momozono said.

“Not then, but when you first arrived,” Sano said, noting the boy’s surprisingly clear, cultured speech. Upon closer examination, Sano saw that Momozono had a well-proportioned body; the spasms gave the false impression of physical deformity. His fine features might have been handsome, if not for the strain of trying to control himself. “Was there anyone in the garden already?”

“I don’t think so,” Tomohito said. “But it was dark, and we hardly had time to look around.”

“Did you hear anything?” Sano asked.

“People r-running and shouting,” Prince Momozono said. His mouth twitched violently.

The prince wasn’t an idiot after all, Sano realized. Momozono’s attempts to direct the conversation away from the time he and Tomohito had spent in the garden before the others arrived suggested that he understood the implications of their finding Left Minister Konoe. For the moment, Sano allowed the diversion. “So the whole court gathered in the garden. Was your mother there, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Tomohito said impatiently.

“And your consort?”

“As Momo-chan said, everyone came.”

Sano hoped that Reiko would learn more about Lady Jokyōden’s and Lady Asagao’s movements that night. Perhaps one of the women had murdered Konoe, then joined the crowd in the garden. Yet the same possibility applied to Tomohito and Momozono, with stronger justification. They’d been first to reach Konoe; therefore, they must not have been far away when he died. They could have pretended to discover the body together, after one of them had killed Konoe.

“Where were you before you went to the garden?” Sano said.

“In the study hall,” Emperor Tomohito said.

Sano watched his hands begin to fidget. “Doing what?”

“Playing darts,” Tomohito said, picking at his fingernails.

“At midnight? Why so late?”

Though Tomohito unflinchingly held Sano’s gaze, his fingers picked faster. “I just felt like it.”

“Your cousin played, too?” Sano said in disbelief. He imagined Prince Momozono wildly flinging missiles in all directions. He caught himself committing the same error of judgment as the court by presuming that Momozono’s affliction rendered him a complete mental and physical cripple. Yet surely Momozono lacked the self-control necessary to master the power of kiai. Of the two boys, Tomohito was far and away the better suspect.

“Yes. Well, I mean, Momo-chan watched me play. I scored three perfect shots.”

“Was anyone else with you?”

“No. But we were there.” Tomohito’s belligerent tone dared Sano to doubt him. "Both of us. Together.”

“I see.” Sano appraised Tomohito’s nervousness and observed that Momozono had remained perfectly quiet during the exchange. It was obvious that they were lying. Sano considered pressuring them into telling the truth, but he saw the danger of doing so.

Understanding Japan’s political climate, he could predict what would happen if he discovered evidence against Emperor Tomohito and charged him with murder. Tomohito would deny the allegation and accuse Sano of framing him. The Imperial Court would support his claim, while the bakufu sided with Sano, causing a rift between the nation’s military and spiritual institutions. Emperor Tomohito would denounce the shogun’s regime, withdrawing the divine sanction that only he had the power to confer. With the legitimacy of the government destroyed, upheaval would result. Discontented citizens would rebel. The daimyo, eager to take advantage of the situation, would mount a war to overthrow the government.

Whether they succeeded in establishing a new regime, or the Tokugawa managed to maintain control, Sano would be blamed for bringing disaster upon Japan.

“I’m bored with all these questions,” Tomohito said peevishly, gnawing at his fingernails while Prince Momozono yelped and jerked. “Are you finished yet?”

Nor could Sano avoid trouble by focusing his efforts on Prince Momozono. While Sano doubted that the Imperial Court or the bakufu would care what happened to Momozono, he shared Tomohito’s alibi; breaking it would cast aspersion upon the emperor. Sano’s honor depended upon solving this case, but he dreaded the prospect of arresting Tomohito. He fervently wished the emperor’s mother or consort would turn out to be the killer.

“I’m finished for now, Your Majesty,” Sano said.

After leaving the emperor, Sano, Yoriki Hoshina, and Right Minister Ichijo gathered outside the Purple Dragon Hall.

“I understand that you wish to see Lady Jokyōden and Lady Asagao,” said Ichijo. "Shall I take you to them?”

“Not yet,” Sano said, preferring to wait until he’d heard what Reiko had learned from the women. “I’d like to see the study hall and speak with His Majesty’s personal attendants.” Perhaps he would find witnesses to prove that Emperor Tomohito and Prince Momozono hadn’t been in the study hall. If so, he must then challenge their alibi, whatever the consequences. “Yoriki Hoshina can take me.”

Ichijo hesitated, then said, “Is there anyone else with whom you would like to speak?”

“Perhaps later. Many thanks for your assistance,” Sano said, politely releasing Ichijo.

An opaque expression veiled the right minister’s features; he bowed in farewell. As Sano walked away with Hoshina, he had a vague, inexplicable sense of hidden dimensions to the case. In his mind floated the disturbing thought that he’d overlooked something important.