The eta chief shrugged helplessly. “When Harume saw me coming, she called, ‘No. No.’ I knew what she meant. We couldn’t let anyone see us together and suspect that we weren’t just strangers who happened to be in the same place at the same time. We couldn’t have the police asking me what I was doing there or why I wanted to get involved in something that was none of my business. So…”
His harsh sigh expressed the tragedy of a man prohibited from aiding his beloved. “I just turned and walked away. Now I live with the knowledge that if I’d come forward and reported what I’d seen, the police might have caught the assassin. Harume might still be alive.” He added in his emotionless voice, “But that’s just the way things are.” Sano wondered how many times a day he fought for and achieved this impassive acceptance of fate. “I can’t go back in time, or change the world.”
“What you’ve told me will help deliver Lady Harume’s killer to justice,” Sano said. “You’ll have the satisfaction of avenging her death that way.”
From the hardening of the eta chief’s mouth and the despair in his eyes, Sano knew this was small consolation. He thanked Danzaemon for his trouble and rose to go.
“I’ll see you to the gate,” Danzaemon said.
They left the house, retrieved Sano’s horse, and walked through the settlement in silence, with Danzaemon’s lieutenants and Mura as an escort. At the gate, Danzaemon bowed in farewell. After a moment, Sano did, too. Thanks to the eta chief’s clue, Sano now believed he knew who had killed Lady Harume. As he started across the field, he turned for a last look at Danzaemon.
Flanked by his lieutenants and Mura, the chief of the outcasts stood proudly before the fetid settlement that teemed with thousands of people, young and old, who honored and depended on him. But for the misfortune of his low birth, what a fine daimyo he might have made! It was a blasphemous thought, but Sano could more easily imagine Danzaemon commanding an army than Tokugawa Tsunayoshi.
37
Lady Ichiteru is the logical culprit,” Sano said. “A woman threw the dagger at Harume in the Asakusa Kannon Temple precinct. Ichiteru was there, with no alibi. She had access to Harume’s room, and could have bought the arrow toxin from Choyei when she got the aphrodisiac she used on you, Hirata.”
The young retainer’s face was haggard with misery. “I can’t believe Ichiteru is the killer,” he repeated for the third time since he and Sano had met outside Edo Castle and compared the results of their inquiries. Now, as they rode into the Official Quarter, he stubbornly championed his seducer’s innocence. “Maybe Danzaemon is wrong about what he thinks he saw.”
Controlling his impatience, Sano cast his eyes up the hilltop. The late-afternoon sun bronzed the palace rooftops and enflamed the trees in the forest preserve. Blue shadows crept outward from the barracks that lined the street, immersing the district in premature dusk. Sano was tired and hungry; he wanted a hot bath to wash away the pollution of the eta settlement. He longed to see Reiko and share with her the successful conclusion to the case. The last thing he needed was more trouble from Hirata.
“Ichiteru isn’t going to evade interrogation any longer,” Sano said with an air of finality. “By now Lady Keisho-in will have explained to the shogun about our misunderstanding. He’ll have reopened the Large Interior to us.” He paused, then added, “There’s too much evidence against Ichiteru. You’ll have to give up your partiality toward her whether you like it or not.”
“I know.” Hirata’s hands twisted the reins. “It’s just-I can’t accept that I could be so wrong about someone who… I still have this feeling that she didn’t do it. All day I kept hoping to find some evidence that would prove I wasn’t a fool. I convinced myself that Lieutenant Kushida was the killer, and I’ve been looking all over town for him.” They dismounted outside Sano’s estate. In the courtyard, a groom took their horses. A pained sigh issued from Hirata. “But now…”
Outside the barracks, the detectives and their families often socialized before the evening meal. Today a group of boys fought a mock battle with wooden swords, while the men cheered them on and women chatted. A mother played ball with a toddler. Sano said, “Everyone makes mistakes, Hirata. Let it go.”
But Hirata wasn’t listening. He stood frozen in the courtyard, staring at the mother and child, a stunned look on his face. “Oh,” he said, then repeated with strange emphasis, “Oh.”
“What’s wrong?” Sano asked.
“I just remembered something.” Excitement animated Hirata’s face. “Now I know Lady Ichiteru didn’t kill Harume.”
Sano regarded him with exasperation. “Hirata, don’t. Enough is enough. I’m going to get cleaned up and have a word with Reiko. Then we’ll go to the Large Interior.”
Turning, he entered the house. Hirata ran after him. “Wait, sōsakan-sama! Let me explain.” As they exchanged their shoes for cloth slippers in the entryway, he said, “I think I saw the killer the other day.”
“What?” Sano paused with his hand on the door.
Words tumbled from Hirata in a rapid, incoherent flood: “When I went to see the Rat, I thought it was something different, but now I see what was going on, I should have guessed.” Fairly bouncing with anxiety, he burst out, “She wasn’t selling anything, she was paying him!”
“Slow down so I can understand you,” Sano said. “Start at the beginning.”
Hirata gulped a deep breath. He patted the air in an effort to subdue his agitation. “I paid the Rat to keep an eye out for Choyei. Later I went back to see whether he’d learned anything. There was a woman in the room with him. They were bargaining-making a deal. When the Rat came out, he said she’d just sold her deformed child to his freak show.” Speaking with deliberate slowness, Hirata explained, “Seeing Detective Yamada’s wife playing with their son reminded me.
“Then the Rat told me he couldn’t find Choyei. He returned the money I’d paid him. I suspected that he’d actually found Choyei, who had bribed him to keep quiet. Now I’m positive it was the woman I saw-offering the Rat money, not the other way around. She disappeared while we were talking. It must have been the killer, not a mother selling a child. She must have seen the crests on my clothes and guessed who I was and what I wanted, when I asked the Rat about Choyei.”
“But Ichiteru is the only female suspect.” Even as Sano spoke, he recalled otherwise.
The light of vindication shone in Hirata’s eyes. “I’ve never met Lady Miyagi. What does she look like?”
“She’s around forty-five,” Sano began.
“Not very pretty, with a long face and droopy eyes and a deep voice?”
“Yes, but…”
“And black teeth and shaved eyebrows.” Hirata laughed exultantly. “Just think, I had the evidence all along!”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Sano admitted. “Choyei’s landlord thought he heard a man in the room where the peddler died; he could have been fooled by Lady Miyagi’s voice. But we haven’t placed Lady Miyagi at the scene of the dagger attack. She could have poisoned the ink, but we’ve no proof that she did. And what’s her motive?”
“Let’s go and see if I can identify Lady Miyagi as the woman I saw,” Hirata pleaded. “The Rat must have found out she was Choyei’s customer and tried to blackmail her. She probably meant to kill the Rat the way she did Choyei. I probably saved his life by arriving just then.”
Hirata bowed. “Please, sōsakan-sama, before you decide Ichiteru is guilty, give me a chance to prove I’m right. Let me question Lady Miyagi!”
Seeking to avert a chase in the wrong direction, Sano said, “Reiko went to see the Miyagi today. Let’s find out if she learned anything.” He entered the corridor, where a manservant came to greet him. “Where’s my wife?”