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“You cannot see Lady Keisho-in yet,” Madam Chizuru said. Her voice was deep, but not unpleasant. “His Excellency is with her now.”

So that was where the shogun had gone. “We’ll wait,” Sano said. “And we need to speak with you, too.”

As Madam Chizuru nodded, a pair of younger female officials arrived. An unspoken form of communication-oblique glances, nods, a twitch of lips-passed between them and their superior. In this alien territory, even the language was different. Then Madam Chizuru said to Sano and Hirata, “Urgent business demands my attention. But I shall return shortly. Wait here.”

“Yes, master,” Hirata said under his breath as the otoshiyori, flanked by her lieutenants, strode away. To Sano he said, “These women will be running the country someday if we men don’t watch out.”

The otoshiyori had left Lady Keisho-in’s door open a crack. Murmurs came from within. Curiosity overcame Sano. He stole a look. In the shadowy chamber, a ceiling lantern formed a nimbus of light around a woman seated upon silk cushions. Small and dumpy, she wore a loose, shimmering gold satin dressing gown printed with blue waves. Long black hair, untouched by gray, spilled around her shoulders, giving the sixty-four-year-old Keisho-in a strikingly youthful appearance. Sano couldn’t see her face, which was bent over the man cradled in her plump arms.

Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, Japan ’s supreme military dictator, pressed his face against his mother’s ample breasts. His black court robes swaddled his bent knees; his shaved crown, minus the customary black cap, looked as vulnerable as an infant’s. Mumbles and whimpers issued from him: “… so afraid, so unhappy… People always wanting things from me… expecting me to be strong and wise, like my ancestor, Tokugawa Ieyasu… never know what to do or say… stupid, weak, unworthy of my position…”

Lady Keisho-in petted her son’s head, emitting soothing sounds. “There, there, my dear little boy.” Her crusty voice betrayed the age that her appearance belied. “Mother is here. She’ll make everything all right.”

Tokugawa Tsunayoshi relaxed; his whimpers turned to a purr of contentment. Lady Keisho-in took up the long, silver pipe that lay on the smoking tray beside her, puffed, coughed, and addressed her son gently. “To earn happiness, you must build more temples, support the clergy, and hold more sacred festivals.”

“But Mother, that sounds so difficult,” the shogun whined. “How shall I ever manage it?”

“Give money to Priest Ryuko, and he’ll take care of everything.”

“What if Chamberlain Yanagisawa or the Council of Elders object?” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s voice quavered with fear of his subordinates’ disapproval.

“Just tell them that your decision is the law,” said Lady Keisho-in.

“Yes, Mother,” sighed the shogun.

At the sound of footsteps in the corridor, Sano quickly moved away from the door, embarrassed and appalled by what he’d observed. The rumors about Keisho-in’s influence over Tokugawa Tsunayoshi were true. She was a fervent Buddhist, dominated by the ambitious, self-aggrandizing Ryuko, her favorite priest-and, Sano had heard, her lover. No doubt Ryuko had convinced her to ask the shogun for money. That such power lay in their hands posed a serious threat to national stability. Throughout history, the Buddhist clergy had raised armies and challenged samurai rule. And how ironic that Tsunayoshi had officials to protect him from unscrupulous concubines, but not from the most dangerous woman of all!

Madam Chizuru rounded the corner and approached her mistress’s suite. She put her head inside the door. At some signal from within the chamber, she turned and said, “Lady Keisho-in will see you now.”

They entered the room. There Lady Keisho-in sat alone, puffing on her pipe. There was no sign of the shogun, but the brocade curtains at Keisho-in’s back moved, as if someone had slipped through them. Sano and Hirata knelt and bowed.

“Sōsakan Sano and his chief retainer, Hirata,” Madam Chizuru announced, kneeling near Lady Keisho-in.

The shogun’s mother studied her visitors with frank interest. “So you are the men who have solved so many baffling mysteries? How exciting!”

Viewed up close, she didn’t look as young as she had at first. Her round face, with its small, even features, might have once been attractive, but the white powder didn’t completely mask deep creases in her skin. Bright cheek and lip rouge lent a semblance of vitality that the veined, yellowish whites of her eyes belied. A double chin bulged above a full bosom that had sagged with age. Her black hair had the uniform, unnatural darkness of dye. Her smile revealed cosmetically blackened teeth with two gaps in the top row, which gave her a rakish, common appearance. And commoner she was, Sano thought, recalling her history.

Keisho-in was the daughter of a Kyōto greengrocer. When her father had died, her mother became servant and mistress to a cook in the household of the imperial regent prince. There Keisho-in formed a friendship with the daughter of a prominent Kyōto family. When the friend became concubine to Shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu, she took Keisho-in to Edo Castle with her, and Keisho-in also became Iemitsu’s concubine. At age twenty, she had borne his son Tsunayoshi and secured herself the highest position a woman could attain: official consort to one shogun, mother of the next. Ever since then, Keisho-in had lived in luxury, ruling the women’s quarters.

“My honorable son has told me so much about your adventures,” Lady Keisho-in said, “and I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.” Batting her eyes at Sano and Hirata, she displayed the coy charm that must have enticed Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s father. Then a sigh rattled in her throat. “But what a sad occasion that brings you here: Lady Harume’s death. A tragedy! We women are all afraid for our own lives.”

However, it was apparently not Keisho-in’s nature to remain sad for long. Smiling flirtatiously at Sano, she said, “But with you here to save us, I feel better. Your assistant told Madam Chizuru that you desire our help in preventing an epidemic. Just tell us what we can do. We’re eager to be of use.”

“Lady Harume didn’t die of a disease, so there won’t be an epidemic,” Sano said, relieved to find the shogun’s mother so compliant. With her rank and influence, she could oppose his investigation if she chose; all inhabitants of the Large Interior were suspects in this politically sensitive crime, including herself. About Madam Chizuru’s feelings, Sano wasn’t sure. The otoshiyori’s expression remained neutral, but her rigid posture indicated resistance. “Lady Harume was murdered, with poison.”

For a moment, both women stared; neither spoke. Sano detected a flicker of unreadable emotion in Madam Chizuru’s eyes before she averted them. Then Lady Keisho-in gasped. “Poison? I’m shocked!” Eyes and mouth wide, she fell back against the cushions, panting. “I can’t breathe. I need air!” Madam Chizuru hurried to her mistress, but Lady Keisho-in waved her away and beckoned to Hirata. “Young man. Help me!”

Casting an uneasy glance at Sano, the young retainer went over to Lady Keisho-in. He picked up her fan and began fanning her vigorously. Soon her breaths evened; her body relaxed. When Hirata helped her sit up, she leaned against him for a moment, smiling into his face. “So strong and handsome and kind. Arigatō.”

“Dō itashimashite, " Hirata mumbled. He hastily returned to his place next to Sano with a sigh of relief.

Sano eyed him with concern. Usually Hirata could face with aplomb witnesses of either sex or any class; now, he knelt with his head down, shoulders hunched. What was the problem? For now, Sano considered the women’s reactions. Was the poisoning really news to them? Keisho-in’s swoon had seemed genuine, but Sano wondered if the otoshiyori had known or guessed about the murder.

“Who would want to kill poor Harume?” Keisho-in said in a plaintive voice. She puffed on her pipe, and a tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a track in the thick white makeup. “Such a sweet child; so charming and vivacious.” Then Keisho-in’s flirtatious manner returned. With a dimply smile at Hirata, she said, “Harume reminded me of myself when I was young. I was once a great beauty, and a favorite with everyone.”