His crude sexual symbolism and morbid obsession with death appalled Reiko. Inwardly recoiling from Lord Miyagi, she said, “Asakusa is one of my favorite places, especially on Forty-six Thousand Day. Did you go this year?’’
“The crowds are too much for us,” Lady Miyagi said. Though the constant interference annoyed Reiko, she was grateful for Lady Miyagi’s company, because surely the daimyo wouldn’t hurt her in the presence of his wife. “We never go to Asakusa on major holy days.”
“But we made an exception this year-don’t you remember?” Lord Miyagi said. “I was having pains in my bones, and you thought that the healing smoke from the incense vat in front of Kannon Temple would help.” He chuckled. “Really, you’re becoming very forgetful, Cousin.”
Thrilled that he’d placed himself in Asakusa on the day of the dagger attack on Lady Harume, Reiko sought to establish his presence in Harume’s vicinity. “The Chinese lantern plants in the marketplace were splendid. Did you see them?”
“Alas, my health did not allow me the pleasure,” the daimyo said. “I rested in the temple garden, leaving my wife to enjoy the sights alone.”
With obvious annoyance, Lady Miyagi said, “We are straying from the purpose of our trip.” She turned her brush around and around in trembling fingers; her musky odor grew stronger, as if increased by the heat of her body. “Let’s compose another poem. I’ll begin this time.”
“I shall let the brilliance of the full moon
Cleanse my spirit of evil!”
The sky had darkened, immersing the city in night; stars glittered like gems floating in the moon’s diffuse radiance. Inspired by a myth about two constellations that cross once a year in autumn, Reiko dashed off a verse:
“Behind the veil of moonlight,
On the River of Heaven,
The Herd Boy and Weaver Girl meet.”
Lord Miyagi said:
“As the lovers embrace,
I rave at the sight of their forbidden rapture,
Then they part, and he continues on his journey-
Leaving her alone to face my censure.”
The cold hand of fear closed over Reiko’s heart as she considered the significance of his words. Surely she was sitting beside a murderer who acted out the evil fantasies implied. “Forbidden love is very romantic,” she said. “Your poem reminds me of a rumor I heard about Lady Harume.”
“ Edo Castle is full of rumors,” Lady Miyagi said acerbically, “and too few of them true.”
Lord Miyagi ignored her. “What did you hear?”
“Harume was meeting a man at an Asakusa inn.” Seeing a flash of concern in his moist eyes, Reiko kept her expression innocent. “How daring of her to do such a thing.”
“Yes…” As if talking to himself, the daimyo murmured, “Lovers in such a situation risk dire consequences. How fortunate for him that the danger has passed.”
Reiko could hardly contain her excitement. “Do you think Harume’s lover killed her to keep the affair a secret? I also heard that Harume began a second romance,” she improvised, wondering whether Sano had traced the mystery lover and wishing he could see how well her interrogation was going. “She was really pushing her luck, don’t you think?” Did you watch them, Lord Miyagi? Reiko longed to ask outright. Were you jealous? Is that why you poisoned her?
Lady Miyagi burst out, “What difference does it make what Harume did, now that she’s dead? Really, I find this subject very repugnant.”
“It’s only natural to take an interest in one’s acquaintances,” Lord Miyagi said mildly.
“I wasn’t aware you knew Harume,” lied Reiko. “Tell me, what did you think of her?”
The daimyo’s eyes blurred with reminiscence. “She-”
“Cousin.” Glaring, Lady Miyagi spoke through clenched teeth.
The daimyo seemed to realize the folly of speaking about his murdered paramour. “It’s all in the past. Harume is dead.” His oily gaze slid over Reiko. “While you and I are alive.”
“This morning you said Harume flirted with danger and invited killing,” Reiko persisted, intent on concluding her case against Lord Miyagi. She had his statement placing him at a crime scene; she needed his confession. “Were you the one who gave her what she deserved?”
Even as Reiko spoke, she knew she’d gone too far. Seeing Lord Miyagi’s nonplussed expression, she hoped that he was too dense to realize she’d virtually accused him of murder. Then Lady Miyagi seized her wrist. Gasping in surprise, Reiko turned to her hostess.
“You didn’t really come here to view the moon, did you?” Lady Miyagi said. “You befriended us so you could spy for the sōsakan-sama. You’re trying to pin Harume’s murder on my husband. You want to destroy us!”
Her face had undergone a startling transformation. Above blazing eyes, frown lines cut deep slants into her brow. Her nostrils flared; a snarl bared her black teeth. Reiko stared in astonishment. It was like the pivotal moment in a No drama when the actor playing a nice, ordinary woman reveals her true character by changing masks and becoming a ferocious demon.
“No, that’s not true.” Reiko tried to pull away, but Lady Miyagi’s fingernails dug into her flesh. “Let me go!”
“Cousin, what are you talking about?” mewled Lord Miyagi. “Why are you treating our guest this way?”
“Don’t you see she’s trying to prove you poisoned Harume and stabbed the old drug peddler from Daikon Quay? And you won’t let me protect us. You fell right into her trap!”
The daimyo shook his head in befuddlement. “What drug peddler? How can you attribute such vile intentions to this sweet young lady? Release her at once.” Leaning over, he tried to pry his wife’s fingers loose. “Why should we need protection? I didn’t do those terrible things. I’ve never killed anyone in my life.”
“No,” Lady Miyagi said in a voice full of quiet menace, “you haven’t.”
Suddenly the truth hit Reiko like a blow to the stomach. The broken alibis didn’t incriminate Lord Miyagi alone. His wife’s lies had been intended to protect herself as well. “You’re the murderer!” Reiko exclaimed.
Lady Miyagi chuckled, a low growl deep in her throat. “If it took you this long to figure it out, then you’re not as smart as you think.”
“Cousin!” As realization dawned on Lord Miyagi, he fell back on his knees. His face seemed to cave in, the soft flesh sinking around the holes of his gaping mouth, his horror-stricken eyes. “You killed Harume? But why?”
“Never mind,” rasped Lady Miyagi. “Harume isn’t important anymore. This one is the problem now. She knows too much.” Her lips curved in a malicious grin directed at Reiko. “Do you know, I’m actually quite glad you turned out to be a spy. Now I feel even more justified in doing what I’ve been planning all along.”
“What-what’s that?” Still stunned by her discovery, Reiko shrank from the hostility that dripped from Lady Miyagi’s voice.
“I didn’t let you come here so you could steal my husband’s affection. No, I brought you because I saw the perfect chance to get you out of our life for good. Just the way I did with his two concubines.”
Lord Miyagi gasped. “Snowflake? Wren? What have you done to them?”
“They’re both dead.” Lady Miyagi nodded in smug satisfaction. “I tied them up and cut their throats.”
Horror flooded Reiko in a sickening gush. Seeing the maniacal fury in her hostess’s eyes, she regretted wasting her fear on the wrong person. The daimyo was innocent and harmless. The real danger lay in this woman whom Reiko had dismissed as his insignificant shadow. Now she yearned for the knife strapped to her left upper arm, but Lady Miyagi kept her right hand immobilized. She couldn’t reach the hidden weapon.
“But why, Cousin, why?” Lord Miyagi said. White with shock, he stared at his wife. “How could you kill my girls? They never did anything to hurt you. Surely… surely you’re not jealous?” Amazement lifted his voice. “They were just harmless diversions, like all my other women.”