The Shogun's Daughter

3

“What on earth is Lady Nobuko doing here?” Reiko asked.

Sano was just as puzzled and surprised. “I’ve no idea.” He’d seen the shogun’s wife exactly once, at the end of an investigation into the kidnapping and rape of several women. “Let’s find out.” Sano helped Reiko to her feet. They followed Masahiro to the reception room.

In the place of honor nearest the alcove that held a calligraphy scroll and a porcelain vase of white azaleas were two women dressed in gray. The elder lay on her back, her sock-clad feet pointed at the ceiling and arms rigid at her sides, on the tatami floor. The younger woman knelt by her, pressing a cloth pad to her forehead. The pad was a poultice-a bundle of herbs that gave off a musty, medicinal odor. When Sano, Reiko, and Masahiro approached, the kneeling woman helped the prone one sit up. Sano and his family knelt and bowed to their guests.

“Greetings, Lady Nobuko,” Sano said. “Your visit does us an honor.”

“My apologies for behaving in this unseemly fashion.” Pain tightened the older woman’s crisp, elegant speech. Lying on the floor had disheveled her knot of silver-streaked hair. “My headache is especially bad today.”

Although one of the most privileged women in Japan, she was as emaciated as beggars on the streets. Knobby shoulder joints protruded through her silk kimono. Tendons in her neck resembled flaccid ropes. Crimson rouge on her cheeks and lips gave her a flush of vitality, but the muscles around her right eye contracted in a spasm that distorted her narrow, sharp-boned face into a disconcerting mask of agony.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” Sano introduced Reiko and Masahiro.

Lady Nobuko’s good eye studied them with shrewd interest. The other oozed involuntary tears. She seemed to approve; she nodded. “May I introduce Korika, my lady-in-waiting.”

“I’m honored to make your acquaintance,” Korika said in a sweet, breathless voice. In her late forties, she had a comfortably padded figure. Her hair, still mostly black, arranged in a round puff, emphasized the broadness of her face. Her forehead was so low that the eyebrows painted on it almost touched her hairline. Her wide smile, and eyes as black and shiny as berries, had an intense, eager-to-please expression.

“May I offer you refreshments?” Reiko asked.

“No, please.” Lady Nobuko grimaced, as if nauseated by the mere thought of food and drink. “You must be wondering why I am here, so I will come right to the point. I must speak to you about Tsuruhime.”

Her voice broke on a sob. Tears poured from both her eyes. Korika patted her hand consolingly. Although the shogun didn’t mourn his daughter, his wife did.

“I’m so sorry,” Reiko said with quiet compassion. “I understand that you and Tsuruhime were very close?”

Nodding, Lady Nobuko composed herself. “I was with her when she died. I’m only her stepmother, but I loved her as if she were my own child.”

“Wasn’t her own mother killed by the earthquake?” Sano recalled that Tsuruhime’s mother had been one of the shogun’s concubines.

“Yes, when part of the Large Interior collapsed,” Lady Nobuko said. The Large Interior was the section of the palace that housed the shogun’s female concubines, relatives, and their attendants and maids. “But even before then, Tsuruhime relied on me for guidance.”

“Her own mother was a silly, flighty woman who had no business raising the shogun’s daughter,” Korika said.

“Don’t speak ill of the dead,” Lady Nobuko said, without rancor. Loud hammering came from the part of the house under construction. A wince further distorted her face.

Sano started to rise. “I’ll tell the men to stop working.”

“No.” Lady Nobuko lifted a crabbed hand to forestall him. “The noise will prevent eavesdropping. I do not want anyone outside this room to hear what I have to say.” She pitched her voice so that it was barely audible over the noise. “Tsuruhime was murdered.”

Surprise jarred Sano and showed on Reiko’s and Masahiro’s faces. “I thought she died of smallpox,” Sano said.

“Indeed she did,” Lady Nobuko said, “but it was not a natural death.”

“How do you know?” Sano asked.

Lady Nobuko turned to her lady-in-waiting. “Tell them what happened.”

Nervous yet pleased to be the center of attention, Korika said, “It was a few days before Tsuruhime fell ill. My lady and I were visiting her. We decided to walk in the garden. Tsuruhime asked me to fetch her cloak from her room. As I was looking through the cabinet, I saw an old cotton bedsheet wadded up on a shelf among her kimonos. It was soiled with dried blood and yellowish stains.” Repugnance wrinkled her nose. “I wondered what such a filthy sheet was doing there. I meant to tell the maid to throw it away, but I forgot. I didn’t remember it until this morning. I looked for it, and it was gone.”

“Korika told me about the sheet,” Lady Nobuko said. “I think it belonged to someone else who’d had smallpox, and it was soiled with blood and pus from that person’s sores. I believe it was put there to infect Tsuruhime.”

“I’ve heard that soiled bedclothes can spread the disease to people who handle them,” Sano said, intrigued yet doubtful. “But how can you be sure that this sheet was in fact contaminated with smallpox?”

“My intuition tells me,” Lady Nobuko said.

Sano looked askance at her. Reiko frowned at him. She trusted in the veracity of female intuition; he was skeptical.

“Supposing the sheet was contaminated,” Reiko said, “did anyone else in the household get smallpox?”

“No.” Lady Nobuko sounded annoyed because logic discredited her belief.

“If Tsuruhime was deliberately infected,” Reiko said, “then why?”

“To eliminate her without the appearance of foul play,” Lady Nobuko said.

Korika spoke up, eager to support her mistress. “It was pure accident that I saw the sheet. If I hadn’t, nobody would suspect she was murdered.”

“Suppose you’re right.” Sano felt Lady Nobuko’s certainty eroding his objectivity. “Then who killed Tsuruhime?”

“I am right,” Lady Nobuko declared. “It was Yanagisawa.”

The hammering stopped for a moment. In the sudden silence Sano felt shock course through him and Reiko and Masahiro. His heart began to pound.

“You think Yanagisawa planted a smallpox-infested sheet in Tsuruhime’s room?” Reiko sounded astonished, dubious.

“No,” Lady Nobuko said, “he wouldn’t risk infecting himself or getting caught. But he was responsible. That’s why I’m here. I want you to prove he’s guilty.”

Sano remembered that she had good reason for thinking Yanagisawa capable of a crime as evil as murdering his lord’s daughter. She also had good reason to want to get him in trouble. And she wasn’t alone in her wish.

“This is our chance to take Yanagisawa down!” Masahiro exclaimed.

“Evidence that he murdered the shogun’s daughter would be a perfect weapon against him,” Reiko agreed.

“Your wife and son are as intelligent as I’ve heard.” The undistorted side of Lady Nobuko’s mouth smiled. “They realize that our interests coincide, Honorable Chamberlain Sano. Or should I say, ‘Honorable Chief Rebuilding Magistrate’?”

“So you know what happened today,” Sano said, disconcerted.

“Yes. I employ people to keep me informed about what goes on at court. I also know that my husband has installed Yanagisawa’s so-called adopted son as his heir and successor, and that you are far from pleased.”

“That’s right.” Sano was tempted to leap at the opportunity to bring about Yanagisawa’s downfall. Despite his hunger for vengeance, he tried to keep a level head. “But let’s not get carried away before we examine your theory. Why would Yanagisawa want Tsuruhime dead?”

“Yanagisawa has fought an uphill battle to put Yoshisato in line to rule Japan,” Lady Nobuko said. “Too many people aren’t convinced he’s the shogun’s son. Yanagisawa can’t keep down all the dissent forever. The last thing he needs is competition for Yoshisato. My husband isn’t likely to father any more children.” Lady Nobuko evidently knew his character despite the fact that their marriage was a political alliance between clans rather than an intimate union, and Sano knew they rarely even spoke. “If Tsuruhime had lived, she could have borne a son who would have been an undisputed descendant of the shogun.”

No one had ever challenged her pedigree.

“A son of hers would have supplied a rallying point for people who don’t think Yoshisato is a true Tokugawa and don’t want Yanagisawa dominating the government for another term,” Lady Nobuko went on. “Were that the case, what would happen after the shogun dies? Yanagisawa’s opponents would start a war against Yoshisato, on behalf of Tsuruhime’s son, and possibly seize control of the dictatorship. Yanagisawa understood that. He had Tsuruhime killed because she was a potential threat to his future.”

“That’s a strong reason for murder,” Reiko said. Sano had to nod. “And Yanagisawa is ruthless enough to have had Tsuruhime murdered.”

“She enjoyed perfect health all her life,” Lady Nobuko said. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that she should contract smallpox a few months after Yoshisato made his appearance at court?”

Sano agreed but continued challenging the theory. “It could be a coincidence.”

Reiko nodded reluctantly, but disdain twisted Lady Nobuko’s mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not reading too much into the situation because of what Yanagisawa did to you?” Sano asked. “Might you be snatching at a faint hope of revenge?”

“I was kidnapped and violated.” Lady Nobuko’s face grew pinched with anger at the memory of the suffering she’d endured. “I can’t prove that Yanagisawa ordered it, but I know he did. I’m not imagining things this time, either.”

Sano wondered if Yanagisawa’s actions had pushed her to the point where she would invent a murder and frame Yanagisawa for it. He turned to her lady-in-waiting. “You’re very devoted to Lady Nobuko, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Korika said proudly. “I’ve served her for twenty-eight years.”

“Did you really see a sheet soiled with blood and pus?”

Korika’s broad face fell at his suggestion that she’d made up the whole story. Lady Nobuko said indignantly, “She wouldn’t lie in order to please me.”

“All right,” Sano said, still reserving judgment. “But the sheet wouldn’t necessarily have been Yanagisawa’s doing. Who else might have wanted to kill Tsuruhime?”

“No one,” Lady Nobuko said. “She was a sweet, harmless young woman. No one would have profited from her death except Yanagisawa.”

“There’s Yoshisato,” Masahiro said.

Sano was proud of his son’s astuteness. “With Tsuruhime dead, Yoshisato no longer needs to worry about a son of hers pushing him out of line for the succession.”

“Yoshisato could have been an accomplice in the murder, but Yanagisawa was the instigator,” Lady Nobuko declared.

“Father…” Masahiro seemed hesitant to voice a theory about which he didn’t feel confident. “Even if Yanagisawa did kill Tsuruhime and you prove it, maybe he won’t get in trouble. The shogun said that now that he has Yoshisato, he doesn’t need her anymore. Would he care if she was murdered? Would he punish Yanagisawa for killing her?”

“You’re a clever boy, but you don’t know my husband as well as I do,” Lady Nobuko said. “He doesn’t care about Tsuruhime, but he will not tolerate anyone hurting anyone or anything that belongs to him.” She said to Sano, “Your mother is proof of that.”

Sano’s mother had been accused of killing the shogun’s cousin during Edo’s other famous natural disaster, the Great Fire. The shogun had almost put her to death, even though he’d barely known his cousin, had assumed he’d died in the fire, and hadn’t given him a thought until his remains turned up more than forty years later. Only a fluke of circumstance had saved her life.

“The shogun wouldn’t let Yanagisawa or Yoshisato get away with killing his own daughter,” Sano agreed. “If he were convinced they did it, he would disown Yoshisato and put them both to death.”

“So,” Lady Nobuko said, “are you going to investigate Tsuruhime’s death or not?”

Sano felt as if he’d spent fifteen years trudging over the same terrain of his feud with Yanagisawa, and suddenly he’d happened on a new path. Maybe it would take him to vengeance, triumph, and a future without Yoshisato as shogun and Yanagisawa ruling Japan through him. But the path was as dark and fraught with hazards as a jungle at midnight.

“An investigation could be dangerous if Yanagisawa hears of it,” Sano said.

“I trust you to be discreet,” Lady Nobuko said.

“Other inquiries of mine have become public despite my best efforts. And while you think your spies are good, they’re nothing to Yanagisawa’s. Should he learn that I’m investigating Tsuruhime’s death and he’s a murder suspect, he’ll strike back without mercy.”

Surprise lifted the brow over Lady Nobuko’s good eye. “I thought you were the one man in Japan who’s not afraid to stand up to Yanagisawa.”

Sano frowned at her suggestion that he was a coward, the worst insult anyone could throw at a samurai. “It’s not myself I’m worried about.” He looked at Reiko and Masahiro. His family was more valuable to him than life itself. He would risk his own safety but not theirs.

“I’m not afraid,” Masahiro said with the courage of a boy who’d already fought battles like a man, lived to tell, and thought he was immortal. “I want you to investigate. Don’t you, Mother?”

“Yes,” Reiko said. “This may be the only chance for you both to regain your posts and destroy Yanagisawa. After he’s gone, it should be easy to disqualify Yoshisato and keep him from becoming shogun.” But Sano could tell she was remembering that Yanagisawa had already halved his income and decimated his army today. They were in no shape for a war with Yanagisawa. They didn’t even have adequate troops to guard the estate. Sano saw Reiko’s fear for Masahiro and Akiko. Her hand clasped her pregnant belly.

“An investigation would be dangerous for you, too, if Yanagisawa finds out that you instigated it,” Sano told Lady Nobuko.

“For a woman there’s nothing worse than what he’s already done to me.” She donned the tragic air of a martyr. “And my life is so filled with suffering that I would gladly risk death for a chance to destroy Yanagisawa.”

The force of his own hunger for revenge pushed Sano toward taking the first step on the dangerous path. But he said, “The evidence that Tsuruhime’s death was murder is flimsy. A soiled sheet that was seen by one witness before it disappeared, that can’t be traced to Yanagisawa. An investigation could endanger us all for nothing.”

“I think it was murder. And I know you’ll find evidence.” Reiko’s eyes shone with faith in Sano.

“I may find evidence that leads somewhere else than to Yanagisawa,” Sano said. “If I do, I won’t frame him and let the real killer go free.”

“I am aware of your reputation for seeking truth and justice,” Lady Nobuko said. “I won’t ask you to compromise your honor. I want the truth about Tsuruhime’s death. I want justice for her even if Yanagisawa comes out smelling like flowers.”

“Very well.” Sano didn’t believe her. He thought her desire for revenge was blinding her to the possibility that someone other than Yanagisawa might be guilty. But Sano realized that he’d decided to conduct the investigation as soon as he’d heard her suspicion that the shogun’s daughter had been murdered by Yanagisawa. He had additional reason besides keeping Yoshisato from inheriting the regime and securing his own family’s future. He must avenge his friends whose lives Yanagisawa had destroyed. “I’ll begin my inquiries at once.”

Lady Nobuko looked satisfied, as if she’d never doubted Sano would cooperate. Korika smiled in relief. “Will you keep me informed as to your progress?” Lady Nobuko said as she and her lady-in-waiting rose.

“Yes.” Sano wondered if he would regret his decision. Circumstances were pushing him along a dangerous course. “Remember, everyone: This must be kept strictly confidential.”

But he was already committed to the investigation, and there was no turning back.