Yesterday was very hot, with thunder grumbling like angry dragons. We went for a picnic in the hills. I wore my green kimono with the willow leaf pattern. We drank sake and were very merry until all of a sudden, pouring rain! We shrieked and hurried into the. palanquins while servants ran around packing up the food. What great fun to see those haughty senior concubines drenched and squawking like wet hens!-particularly after they had mocked my rustic manners.
Last night I entertained His Excellency again. I wore my red satin kimono printed with lucky characters so that I might bear him a son and be rich and happy for the rest of my life, like Lady Keisho-in.
As Sano had expected, Harume’s pillow book resembled those written by imperial court ladies of centuries past, who had documented the trivia of life rather than important historic events. About such great occasions as the last, Harume gave no details: Even naïve young girls knew that any careless remark about the shogun could bring harsh censure, including dismissal or even death. Harume must also have feared that nosy comrades would read her pillow book and take revenge for unfavorable portrayals. Lady Ichiteru and Lieutenant Kushida appeared only in the middle of a long list entitled "Things I Dislike About Living in Edo Castle ":
39. Being served the tough, crusty rice from the bottom of the pot because the senior concubines get the best food.
40. Ichiteru, who thinks she’s better than everyone else just because she’s the emperor’s cousin.
41. The monthly health examinations, and Dr. Kitano’s cold hands on my private parts.
42. Lieutenant Kushida-a terrible pest.
In subsequent passages there was no indication of any particular animosity or quarrel that could have led to her murder. Sano was growing drowsy. He turned to the last page.
Yesterday we went on a pilgrimage to Kannon Temple. I love the Asakusa district because the streets are so busy that the guards and palace officials can’t keep a close watch over us. We can escape them and wander through the marketplace, buying food and souvenirs at the stalls, having our fortunes told, watching the pilgrims, priests, children, and sacred doves: Freedom!
I hurry along the narrow lanes to the inn. As usual, there’s a room already reserved for me, so I slip through the pine groves and bamboo thickets that surround the inn like a small forest. My room is in the rear building-very private. I go inside, close the door, and wait. Soon I hear footsteps crunching on the gravel path. They stop outside my room-
Sano was now wide awake and fully alert. So Lady Harume had used her freedom for secret assignations.
– and I see his tall, thin shadow on the paper window. There’s a hole in the pane, and his eye appears. But he doesn’t speak, and neither do I. Pretending I’m alone, I slowly take off my cloak. I untie my sash and let my outer- and under-kimonos drop to the floor, facing the window so he can see me, but never meeting his eye.
His shadow stirs. Naked, I run my hands over my breasts, sighing and licking my lips. His garments rustle as he parts them and loosens his loincloth. I lie on the floor cushions. I spread my legs wide, my womanhood open to him. I caress myself with my fingers. Faster and faster, moaning, arching my back, tossing my head with a pleasure I don’t really feel. He gasps and grunts. When I cry out, he does, too-an ugly sound, like a dying animal.
Then I lie still, my eyes half closed. I watch his shadow move past the window and out of sight. When I’m sure he’s gone, I dress quickly and hurry back to the market before the palace officials discover I’m not with the other girls. I could be beaten, dismissed, or even killed for what I’ve done. But he’s very rich and powerful. Soon he travels to Shikoku, and we won’t meet again for at least eight months. I must get what I can now, from him, no matter the risk.
Aroused by this erotic scenario, Sano felt like a voyeur himself, spying on a dead woman’s intimate life. He closed the book and pondered the meaning of what he’d just read. Harume had probably thought that anyone who happened to read the story would deem it a fantasy, but it had the quality of truth. Who was her partner in the bizarre game, and why had she played when she got no pleasure from it? What else might have happened between them? Sano considered the clues: a tall, thin man who was rich, powerful, and bound for an eight-month stay on that southern island…
Then he smiled. He knew of someone who fit the hints Harume had dropped about her paramour. Sano blew out the lamp, lay down with his head on the wooden neck rest, and pulled the quilt over him. Tomorrow he and Reiko would reconcile their differences and begin their happy marriage. And tomorrow, sometime between reporting to the shogun, attending the examination of Harume’s corpse at Edo Morgue, and interviewing Lady Ichiteru and Lieutenant Kushida, Sano would visit the latest suspect in Lady Harume’s murder: Lord Miyagi Shigeru, daimyo of Tosa Province.
8
Their breath frosting the morning air, Sano and Hirata strode through Edo Castle ’s winding passages and security checkpoints on their way to report to the shogun. It was another crisp, clear day, though colder than the previous one. Sunlight glittered on the tile roofs of the walled passages, flashed through wind-tossed pine boughs above, and reflected off the armor of patrolling guards. Shadows were as precise as paper cutouts, and every sound rang clear: horses’ hooves on stone paths; marching footsteps; voices calling. Geese winged across the vast, cloudless blue sky, trailing a streamer of honks over the castle. An invigorating tang of fallen leaves and charcoal smoke spiced the air.
“Did you sleep well?” Hirata asked, alluding to Sano’s wedding night with a meaningful look.
“Fine, thank you, " Sano said tersely, hoping Hirata wouldn’t pursue the subject. He hadn’t seen Reiko today. Unwilling to risk another disastrous scene before work, he’d decided to postpone their next meeting until tonight.
Hirata, ever sensitive to Sano’s moods, said, “The men and I had a little celebration planned for you last night. I guess it’s just as well that we decided to put it off and let you rest.”
Knowing what wedding night festivities were like, Sano fervently agreed. He hoped the meeting with the shogun would progress more smoothly than his marriage. But although he’d assumed the news that there was no epidemic would have allayed the shogun’s concerns, he soon discovered otherwise. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, ensconced in his private sitting room amid guards and attendants, greeted Sano and Hirata’s arrival with an anguished cry.
“Ahh, sōsakan-sama,” he wailed. “The murder of my concubine has distressed me so much that I could not sleep last night. Now I have the most terrible headache. I feel sick at my stomach, and my, ahh, entire body pains me.”
Tokugawa Tsunayoshi lay on the dais, supported by cushions, wearing a bronze silk dressing gown. The fact of Harume’s death having belatedly sunk into his mind, he looked shriveled, pale, and much older than his forty-four years. An attendant placed a screen by the window, shielding him from the sunlit paper panes. Others stoked charcoal braziers, heating the room to an ovenlike warmth. A priest chanted prayers. Dr. Kitano hovered beside the shogun with a cup of steaming liquid.
Sano and Hirata knelt and bowed. “I apologize for intruding upon you in your illness, Your Excellency,” Sano said. “If you’d like to wait until later for me to report the status of the murder investigation-”