She heard hoof beats outside the cemetery. Looking up, she saw Sano enter the gate, followed by Detectives Marume and Fukida. Sano came to stand beside her at the grave while the detectives joined her escorts under the pines. The rain gushed down, drenching the grave and offerings. Reiko took meager comfort from Sano, pressed close against her, in the scant dry haven under her umbrella.
“The servants told me I’d find you here.” Sano regarded her with concern. “What’s going on?”
“I just buried Tama’s ashes. There wasn’t anyone else to do it.” Reiko explained, “I went to the house where she worked to ask if she had any relatives. Her employers said she didn’t. And they weren’t interested in what happened to her body. So I held a funeral for her the day after she died. No one came except my father.” Reiko felt sad for Tama, who’d been so alone in the world, and Magistrate Ueda, who had his own regrets about how Yugao’s murder case had turned out. “And there was no one to give Tama a proper grave except me.”
Sano nodded in approval. “That was good of you.”
“It’s nowhere near enough to do for her.” Guilt plagued Reiko. “You tried to warn me that power is dangerous. You said that things we do with it might seem good at the time, but they can have bad consequences. Well, you were right. I abused my power and I did terrible harm to an innocent girl.”
“It was Tama herself who gave away the fact that she knew too much for Yugao’s good,” Sano pointed out. “If she’d kept quiet, Yugao would have let her go back to town, before I brought the army.”
“Tama couldn’t have been expected to know what or what not to say,” Reiko said. “She was just a simple peasant-whereas I should have anticipated all the risks.”
“You couldn’t have known what would happen. The fire that got Yugao out of jail was an unforeseeable circumstance.”
Reiko was grateful to him because he didn’t heap more recriminations on her for disregarding his advice, but she couldn’t absolve herself. “You warned me that something I didn’t expect could happen. I didn’t listen.”
“Plenty of good came out of your investigation as well,” Sano reminded her. “If you hadn’t delayed Yugao’s execution-and she hadn’t escaped from jail-I might still be searching for Kobori. He might still be assassinating people.”
“Maybe. But how can we know? All I’m certain of is that if I hadn’t kept Yugao alive, she couldn’t have killed Tama.”
“You did the best you could to save her. You risked your own life.”
“I failed. I’m alive. Tama is dead.” Now Reiko acknowledged the problem that bothered her the most. “And I didn’t take on the investigation just because I wanted to discover the truth or serve justice. I was hankering for adventure. I found it. Tama paid the price.”
Sano’s expression grew troubled; Reiko saw that her words had touched a nerve in him. “You’re not the only one who’s ever had selfish personal motives. When Lord Matsudaira ordered me to catch the assassin, I was glad to get out of my boring duties. I wanted adventure as much as you did.”
“But you had orders,” Reiko said, able to justify his behavior although not her own. “You wanted to save lives and punish a murderer.”
“True, but I also wanted to save my own position, which I would have lost if I’d failed. My own honor was at stake. And you’re not the only one whose investigation went wrong.” Pain etched Sano’s bruised face. “I led an army on what turned out to be a suicide mission.”
“That’s a different situation,” Reiko protested. “Those troops were samurai. Fighting that battle was their duty.”
“They’re just as dead as Tama is,” Sano said. “And I’m alive.”
They stood joined together by the sobering fact that they had survived while those who’d served them had not, that their lives were a burden as much as a blessing from the gods. The rain streamed down, obscuring the graves; water puddled the cemetery.
“What are we going to do now?” Reiko asked.
“We can make up for what happened.”
Atonement seemed impossible, yet the idea of striving for it had a certain desolate appeal for Reiko. “I’ll quit investigating crimes,” she vowed. “I’ll put myself under house arrest so I can’t ever bring harm to anyone again.” But her spirit died even as she spoke. That she should bury all her skill, experience, and ardor along with Tama’s ashes! She told herself that it was a small price to pay.
“I don’t have the luxury of withdrawing from the world,” Sano said ruefully. “I’ve still got my duties to fulfill. I can’t stop using my power. I can’t stop making judgments even though they might prove to be faulty.” He paused, deep in thought. “And I still want a chance at doing good, at using my power and position to serve honor.” Determination and hope strengthened his voice. “That much hasn’t changed.”
That hadn’t changed for Reiko, either. “But if we do act, how can we be sure that things won’t go wrong again?”
“We can’t. Power doesn’t exempt us from bad luck and mistakes, obviously. All we can know is that our power makes the consequences of our actions most extreme.”
Sano sounded tentative, as though he was working out the issues himself. “But too much caution is as bad as not enough, and inaction can be worse than action. If I hadn’t gone after Kobori, he might have gone on killing, Lord Matsudaira’s regime might have weakened, and Japan might have been torn apart by civil war. If you hadn’t gotten involved with Yugao, I might never have caught him. Events are connected in mysterious ways. I can’t help thinking that these were meant to happen the way they did, that we were meant to do as we did and not otherwise. I can’t help believing that we survived for a purpose.”
Reiko was skeptical, but she yearned to believe it, too. “What purpose?”
“I don’t know. Maybe if we rise to the challenges that come our way in the future, they’ll lead us to our destiny.”
Reiko smiled with wistful amusement. “I always imagined that my destiny would be revealed to me by celestial apparitions or weird visions.”
Sano chuckled. “I doubt that we get to choose how our destiny is revealed any more than we get to choose what it is. The gods might not think we’re worth putting on such a spectacular drama.”
Their shared humor warmed Reiko. She began to believe that her life had been spared for a purpose and she would have an opportunity to do better the next time. She hoped that when the challenges came, she and Sano would be ready to meet them.
He gazed around the wet, forlorn cemetery. “Somehow I don’t think we’ll find our destiny here. We should be getting back to Edo Castle.”
She nodded. Together they left Tama’s grave. The rain continued pouring down, and they were both drenched, their umbrella inadequate protection. Yet a faint luminescence shone in the distant sky even while the thunder boomed and the earth trembled.
About Laura Joh Rowland
Laura Joh Rowland is a detective/mystery author best known for her series of mystery novels set in the late days of feudal Japan, mostly in Edo during the late 1600s. Rowland takes some licence with known figures, creating fictionalised versions of Tokugawa Tsunayoshi and Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu. Objective historical details, however, are credibly accurate.
