“Did you see anyone else near the cottage?” Sano asked.
“No, master,” said Yukiko.
“Did you hear any unusual noises?”
The girls shook their heads. If they were telling the truth-and Sano saw no indications otherwise-then this was confirmation of Abbess Junketsu-in’s claim that Haru had sneaked out of the dormitory that night.
“What did you do then?” Sano said.
“We, um, went back to bed.”
Still, the girls couldn’t account for the later missing hours in Haru’s life. Sano thanked them, then toured the temple, inspecting the buildings and grounds. He found no doorways to underground passages. On a path he met a pilgrim carrying a pack on his back and a walking staff in his hand. The face under his wicker hat belonged to Detective Kanryu. He bowed to Sano, showing no sign of recognition, shook his head slightly, then walked on. Sano interpreted this signal to mean that his surveillance team hadn’t yet discovered anything amiss in the temple.
At the abbot’s residence, an attendant told Sano that High Priest Anraku was engaged in meditation. Sano was annoyed at being put off, but he didn’t want to disrupt the temple routine and offend the shogun’s religious sensibilities, so he scheduled an appointment with Anraku for tomorrow afternoon. Then he walked to the hall that served as headquarters for his investigation. There, three of his detectives were questioning Black Lotus members.
“Any luck?” Sano asked them between interviews.
“We’ve questioned about half the sect,” said a detective. “So far, there’s nothing to indicate that any of Commander Oyama’s family or known enemies were here at the time of the fire. And there doesn’t appear to be anyone with cause or opportunity to have committed the crimes.”
Except Haru, Sano thought grimly. He joined his detectives in interviewing nuns and priests, aware that until he found evidence against someone else, Haru remained his only suspect, and he would somehow have to detach Reiko from her.
14
He who denounces those who embrace the Law of the Black Lotus
Will not be believed,
For he speaks not the real truth.
– FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA
The shogun’s mother, his two hundred concubines, and their attendants lived in a secluded area of the palace known as the Large Interior. Reiko entered by its private gate. Walking through a garden green and fresh from the rain, she came upon a group of young women dressed in bright kimonos, gathering asters and reeds in the late-afternoon sunshine. Among the women Reiko spied Midori, who smiled and hurried to greet her.
“Hello, Reiko-san,” Midori said. “What brings you here?”
“I need to see His Excellency’s mother,” Reiko said.
“Then I must warn you that Lady Keisho-in is in one of her moods. We’ve had a terrible time keeping her entertained. Now she’s sent us out to pick flowers for her to arrange.” Midori sighed at the plight of herself and the other ladies-in-waiting. “Maybe a visit from you will improve her temper.”
Reiko and Midori walked toward the building, a wing of the palace with a gabled tile roof over plaster and timber walls. Midori said hesitantly, “Have you seen Hirata-san today?”
“Yes, as I was leaving the house this morning,” Reiko said.
“Did he…” Midori looked down at the flower basket in her hands. “Did he say anything about me?”
“We didn’t speak at all,” Reiko said, sparing her friend the knowledge that Hirata never mentioned Midori anymore. Reiko had noticed Hirata’s lack of attention to her friend, and Midori’s growing despondency. She knew Midori was in love with Hirata, but although she and Sano had cherished hopes of a match between them, social considerations and Hirata’s indifference made the possibility of their marriage remote.
“I don’t know what to do!” Midori cried. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “How can I make him like me again?”
Reiko privately thought Hirata had turned into a conceited boor who wasn’t worth such anguish, but she wanted to help her friend. “Maybe you should show special interest in his life.”
“I’ve already tried that. “ Midori sniffled. “I offered to help him solve a case, but he just laughed.”
“Well, maybe that’s not such a good idea,” Reiko said, quailing at the thought of delicate, innocent Midori involved in dangerous detective work.
“You mean you don’t think I’m capable either?” Midori said, pouting.
“It’s not that,” Reiko said hastily. “But most men don’t admire cleverness in a woman or want her meddling in their business, and I doubt if Hirata-san does, either. Maybe you should just look as pretty as possible and be cold and aloof toward him. That should spark his interest in you.”
Comprehension shone in Midori’s eyes. “Of course! He’ll want me because he thinks I don’t want him. Oh, thank you,” she exclaimed, hugging Reiko. “I can’t wait to see Hirata-san and show him how little he means to me!”
Inside the Large Interior, rooms were crammed with pretty young women playing cards, combing their hair, and chattering among themselves. Their shrill voices deafened Reiko as she walked through the narrow, winding corridors with Midori. A cypress door, resplendent with carved dragons, marked the entrance to Lady Keisho-in’s private chambers. Two sentries-among the few men allowed in the Large Interior-stood outside. From inside came gay samisen music. Keisho-in’s crusty old voice yelled, “I’m sick of that song. Play something else,” then subsided into phlegmy coughing.
Another tune began. The sentries admitted Midori and Reiko to a room filled with tobacco smoke. Through its haze Reiko saw the samisen player seated amid other ladies-in-waiting. Around them lay cards, tea bowls, and plates of food. Lady Keisho-in lolled upon cushions. She was a small, squat woman clad in a cobalt silk kimono; a silver tobacco pipe protruded from her mouth. Puffing, she squinted at the doorway.
“Midori-san? Don’t just stand there, come over here.” Ill temper coarsened her voice. “Who is that with you?”
Reiko and Midori knelt before the shogun’s mother and bowed. “I present the Honorable Lady Reiko,” Midori said.
“Splendid!” With a grunt, Lady Keisho-in pushed herself upright. Her dyed black hair, thick white face powder, and crimson rouge gave her a guise of youth, but her sixty-seven years showed in her sagging bosom and double chin. She smiled, revealing gaps between her cosmetically blackened teeth; her rheumy eyes sparkled.
“Life is so melancholy these days, and it cheers me to see you,” she said to Reiko. She signaled the attendants, who poured tea for Reiko. “Have some refreshments.”
“Thank you,” Reiko said, glad of Lady Keisho-in’s welcome. She’d visited Keisho-in before, but never without invitation, and she’d feared offending the mother of her husband’s lord.
“My, it’s been ages since we last met.” Keisho-in shifted to a more comfortable position for a good chat. The samisen music continued; Midori and the other attendants sat in polite silence. “What have you been doing?”
“Taking care of my son,” Reiko said. “He’s eighteen months old now, and he keeps me quite busy.”
“I recall my own dear boy at that age,” Keisho-in said with fond nostalgia. “He loved his mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be separated from her. He was so obedient and docile.”
He hasn’t changed much, Reiko thought. The shogun depended on his mother for advice on how to rule Japan, and Lady Keisho-in was one of his most influential companions. Her word could elevate or destroy the careers of bakufu officials. Fortunately, Sano had earned her goodwill, and it was this goodwill that Reiko hoped to benefit from today.
“How is your health?” Keisho-in asked. “Do your breasts give plenty of milk? Hmm, your figure looks fine.” With a lewd cackle, she added, “I bet you and your husband have resumed marital relations.”