“I’ll show you who is master and who is the slave!” Yanagisawa shouted.
Trembling with fear, Shichisaburō wept. They’d often indulged in rough sexual play-but this was not play, and he knew it. “If it please my lord, I’ll never speak of my love again,” he cried. “Let’s forget what happened and go back to the way we were before!”
They could never go back; everything had changed between them; Chamberlain Yanagisawa pummeled Shichisaburō’s back with his fists. Shichisaburō moaned, but didn’t struggle. The lack of resistance further incensed Yanagisawa. He grabbed the boy’s hair and slammed his face repeatedly against the floor, while fumbling to liberate his erection from his loincloth.
“You can do-whatever you wish-to me,” Shichisaburō whimpered between anguished gasps. Sweat glistened on his skin; the reek of his terror filled the room, but he spoke up bravely. “I accept-the pain. Even if you-don’t want my love-I’m yours forever. I’ll-do anything for you!”
Before the violent fusion of pleasure and anger and need could over whelm him, Chamberlain Yanagisawa realized what he had to do. He must end his liaison with Shichisaburō-or face the ruin of his power- of his entire self. Yet for now, the young actor was too useful to drop. He’d successfully carried out orders. The stage was set for the destruction of Sano, and Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s other rival. But if the ploy somehow failed, Yanagisawa might require Shichisaburō’s services again before the end of the murder investigation.
16
Sano’s last task of the day was hearing reports from his detective corps. In his office, the men related the progress of their hunt for the poison dealer and investigation of the Large Interior. Doctors and pharmacists had been canvassed, without results so far; interviews with the residents of the women’s quarters and a search of the rooms had failed to uncover useful information or evidence either. Sano instructed the men to resume work the next day. He assigned a team to track the passage of the ink bottle and letter from the Miyagi estate to Lady Harume. Then the detectives filed out of the room, leaving Sano and Hirata to review their inquiries.
“Police headquarters gave me a possible lead on the drug peddler,” Hirata said, “an old man selling aphrodisiacs around town. And I’m using one of my informants-the Rat.”
Sano nodded his approval. The police’s drug dealer might have supplied the Indian arrow toxin that had killed Harume, and he was familiar with the Rat’s abilities. “Now, what about Lady Ichiteru?”
Hirata’s gaze slid away. “I spoke with her. But… I don’t have anything definite to report yet.”
He seemed uncharacteristically distracted, and his eyes shone with a peculiar intensity. Sano was troubled by Hirata’s evasiveness, as well as his failure to obtain information on an important suspect. Nonetheless, he hated to reprimand Hirata.
“I suppose tomorrow is soon enough to finish investigating Lady Ichiteru,” he said.
His voice must have conveyed doubt, because Hirata said defensively, “You know it’s not always possible to get the whole story from someone on the first try.” Squirming, he clasped and unclasped his hands. “Would you rather interrogate Lady Ichiteru yourself? Don’t you trust me? After Nagasaki?”
Sano recalled how his inclination to meet all challenges alone there had almost destroyed him, and how Hirata’s competence and loyalty had saved his life. “Of course I trust you,” Sano said. Changing the subject, he described the examination of Lady Harume’s corpse and his interviews with Lieutenant Kushida and the Miyagi. “We’ll keep the pregnancy a secret until I inform the shogun. Meanwhile, try to discreetly find out who knew or guessed that Harume was with child.”
“Do you think she knew herself?” Hirata asked.
Sano pondered. “It seems as though she must have at least suspected. My theory is that she didn’t report the pregnancy because she wasn’t sure who the father was, or whether the shogun would claim the child as his.” Sano noticed Hirata staring off into space instead of listening. “Hirata?”
Starting nervously, Hirata reddened. “Yes, sōsakan-sama! Is there something else?”
If Hirata’s behavior didn’t return to normal soon, Sano thought, they must have a serious talk. But right now, Sano was eager to see Reiko. “No. There’s nothing else. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What do you mean, she’s not here?” Sano asked the manservant who’d greeted him in the mansion’s private living quarters with the news that Reiko had left the house that morning and not yet returned. “Where did she go?”
“She wouldn’t say, master. Her escorts sent word that they were taking her to various places in Nihonbashi and Ginza. But it’s not clear what she was doing there.”
An unpleasant suspicion formed in Sano’s mind. “When will she be back?”
“No one knows. I’m sorry, master.”
Annoyed by the postponement of a romantic evening, Sano realized that he was hungry-he hadn’t eaten since noon, a bowl of noodles at his mother’s house after the interview with Lieutenant Kushida. And he needed to wash away the taint of the illegal dissection. “Have my bath prepared and my evening meal brought,” he told the servant.
Once bathed, dressed in clean robes, and settled in the warm, lamp-lit sitting room, Sano tried to eat his dinner of rice, steamed fish, vegetables, and tea. But his irritation with Reiko soon turned to concern. Had something bad happened to her?
Had she left him?
His appetite lost, Sano paced the sitting room. It occurred to him that this was what marriage must be like for women: waiting at home for their spouses to return, wondering and fretting. Suddenly he understood Reiko’s rebellion against her lot in life. But anger precluded sympathy. He didn’t like this one bit. How dare she treat him so? For the next hour, his rage alternated with growing worry. He imagined Reiko caught in a burning building, or assaulted by outlaws. In his mind he rehearsed the scolding he would give her when she got home.
Then he heard hoofbeats outside. His heart jumped with simultaneous relief and fury. At last! Sano rushed to the front door. In walked Reiko, followed by her entourage. The cold wind had put a vivid sparkle in her eyes and loosened strands of long hair from her coiffure. She looked utterly lovely-and satisfied with herself.
“Where have you been?” Sano demanded. “You shouldn’t have gone without my permission, and without leaving word of your whereabouts. Explain what you were doing out so late!”
The servants, foreseeing a marital dispute, faded away. Reiko squared her shoulders, delicate chin jutting forward. “I was investigating Lady Harume’s murder.”
“After I ordered you not to?”
“Yes!”
Despite his anger, Sano admired Reiko’s nerve. A weaker woman might have lied to avoid censure instead of standing up to him. His attraction to her charged the air of the dim corridor with invisible sparks. And he could tell that she felt it, too. Self-consciousness broke her gaze; her hand went up to straighten her disheveled hair; her tongue touched the chipped tooth. He felt himself becoming aroused against his will. He forced a sarcastic laugh.
“Investigating how? What could you possibly do?”
Hands clasped, jaws set in rigid self-control, Reiko said, “Don’t be so quick to mock me, Honorable Husband.” Icy scorn frosted her voice.
“I went to Nihonbashi to see my cousin Eri. She’s a palace official in the Large Interior. She told me that Lieutenant Kushida was caught in Lady Harume’s room two days before the murder. Lady Ichiteru threatened to kill Harume during a fight they had at Kannei Temple.”
She laughed at Sano’s surprised look. “You didn’t know, did you? Without me, you never would have, because both incidents were hushed up. And Eri thinks someone threw a dagger at Harume and tried to poison her last summer.” Reiko described the events, then said, “How long might it have taken you to find out? You need my help. Admit it!”