“What investigation has been done?” Sano asked.
“I’ve sent men to search the estate,” Hirata said.
“Any results yet?”
Hirata shook his head.
“Well, here are some things I want them to search for.” Sano described the chrysanthemum screen, flowers, and mural. He looked at the bed. If anyone had been killed on it besides Lord Mori, it was impossible to tell, and the blood obliterated any signs that sex had taken place. “Also the body of a dead boy about nine years old, and another boy, either alive or dead, aged five years, named Jiro.”
“What?” Hirata beheld Sano with surprise, as did the other men.
Sano told them Reiko’s tale. He also told them what Akera had said that disputed it. “Finding the dead boy would help prove that things happened the way my wife claims. Finding Jiro would lend credence to her story that she came here to look for him-not kill Lord Mori.”
“All right. I’ll have my men look.” Hirata exchanged an uneasy glance with Inoue and Arai.
“What’s the matter?” Sano said.
“I was just going to tell you mat I’ve begun questioning the residents of the estate,” Hirata said. “I’ve found a possible witness to the crime.”
“Who is it?”
“Lord Mori’s wife.”
The woman Reiko had befriended. “What did she say?”
“You’d better hear for yourself.” Hirata paused. “I must warn you that you’re not going to like it.”
Sano found Lady Mori in her chamber in the women’s quarters of the mansion. She sat surrounded by five ladies-in-waiting and a gray-haired maid, who inched closer to her in protective unison when Sano entered with Hirata. She seemed an ordinary older woman with a dumpy figure, neatly groomed in her plain, beige silk kimono. But her eyes were red and her face bloated from weeping. Grief blurred the gaze she turned toward Sano.
He knelt before her and introduced himself, while Hirata waited at the door. The room was small, crowded with women, elaborate lacquer furniture, brocade cushions, a mirror, and dressing table. It was also too hot from the charcoal braziers that burned despite the muggy summer warmth. The atmosphere smelled of perfumed oils.
“Please accept my condolences on the death of your husband,” Sano said.
“Many thanks. They are most appreciated,” Lady Mori said in a gentle voice thick with tears.
“I’ve been told that you have information about Lord Mori’s murder,” Sano said. “Is that correct?”
“Yes, Honorable Chamberlain.” She cast her eyes downward and wiped them on her sleeve.
Sano didn’t like to bother a widow in the raw early stage of mourning, but he couldn’t afford to delay hearing Lady Mori’s testimony, especially if it could hurt Reiko. “Please tell me what it is.”
“Honorable Chamberlain…” Lady Mori glanced at him from beneath her swollen red eyelids. “Forgive me if it pains you, but… I am sorry to say…” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Your wife killed my husband.”
The last thing Sano needed was someone else claiming Reiko was guilty. Hirata flashed him a glance that said, I warned you. Anger undermined Sano’s sympathy for Lady Mori. “How do you know?” he demanded. “Did you actually see Lady Reiko stab him and castrate him?”
Lady Mori flinched at his blunt, crude words. “No. But I am sure she did it.”
“How can you be, when you didn’t see her?” Sano heard his voice grow harsher with his outrage at the false accusation.
If Lady Mori feared him, she didn’t show it. She aimed her gaze somewhere near his chin, as close as a high-society woman could come to looking him in the eye. She spoke in a reluctant but certain tone: “Lady Reiko was with my husband last night. That much I did see.”
“You saw her spying on him from outside his chamber?” Sano imagined Lady Mori lurking in the fog, watching Reiko. Perhaps he could get Lady Mori to confirm Reiko’s story while he demolished hers.
Faint surprise crossed Lady Mori’s face. “Not outside. Lady Reiko was inside my husband’s chamber.” Trepidation blended with the sorrow in her eyes. “You were not aware?”
“Aware of what?” Sano said, leery and suspicious.
“I am sorry to be the bearer of information that may distress you as much as it does me, but…” Lady Mori crumpled under an onslaught of grief. Her attendants laid soothing hands on her as she sobbed. “Your wife and my husband were lovers.”
5
The Wife’s Tale
GENROKU YEAR 11, MONTH 5 (JUNE 1698)
The annual ceremony to open the Sumida River for the summer season began as the sun descended behind the hills and its last rays gleamed red on the water. Musicians, puppeteers, and jugglers entertained noisy crowds that strolled the embankment. Vendors in boats along the shore did a flourishing business in rice cakes, dumplings, watermelons, and sake. People jammed the Ryogoku Bridge, awaiting the fireworks. Up and down the river floated hundreds of pleasure craft, brightly lit with multicolored lanterns, containing gay revelers.
Aboard one large boat Lord and Lady Mori sat beneath a striped canopy. They smiled at each other as they enjoyed the singing and music from the other boats.
“I wanted to do something special to celebrate our anniversary,” Lord Mori said. “Does this please you, my darling?”
“Very much.” Lady Mori’s heart brimmed with love for him that hadn’t diminished in sixteen years of marriage.
Lord Mori poured sake into their cups. “Let us drink a toast to our continued happiness.”
As they drank, Lady Mori recalled their wedding day, the priest droning through the rites, the handful of spectators, herself and Lord Mori seated opposite each other. She’d cowered under the drape that hid her face, terrified because he’d been a stranger that she’d only met once, when their clans arranged their union. She knew nothing about him except that he was rich and could provide for her and her nine-year-old son from her previous marriage. That marriage had been a disaster, her husband cold and cruel. When he’d died, she’d never expected to find happiness in a new marriage.
But Lord Mori, whose first wife had died many years past, had proved to be a kind, decent man. To their mutual surprise, they’d fallen deeply in love. Now Lady Mori thanked the gods for him and their wonderful life together, especially because she wasn’t the only one who’d benefited.
Her son, Enju, stood at the boat’s railing. Twenty-five years old now, he was so handsome that Lady Mori beamed with pride. He held a spyglass to his eye, scanning the bridge.
“Do you see any pretty girls?” Lord Mori called to him. “I know you have a good eye for them.”
Enju laughed as he turned to his stepfather. “Is that so bad?” He added teasingly, “You must have been quite a man for the ladies in your day.”
“That was before I met your mother.” Lord Mori put his arm around Lady Mori. As Enju resumed watching the bridge, Lord Mori said, “It’s high time I found a bride for him. I know some lovely, highbred young women who would do quite well.”
He’d not only welcomed his stepson into his life; since he had no issue of his own, he’d adopted Enju as his official heir. Furthermore, he loved Enju as he would a blood child. Lady Mori had her husband to thank for the fact that Enju had grown into a happy, healthy man with a bright future. Someday, Enju would rule Suwo and Nagato provinces as daimyo.