“He was a coward to the end,” she said. “He had his men kidnap Lady Keisho-in and the rest of us. He wanted the shogun to kill Hoshina for him. Then he attacked me so you would kill him, because he wasn’t brave enough to commit seppuku. He wanted to die here rather than face a trial, scandal, and public execution.”
“He’s proved that a coward can do more harm than many a braver man,” Sano said. His voice was hard; his sword dripped blood as he surveyed the scene. “There’s no need to commiserate over his death. Let’s go. He can stay here for now.”
Before leaving the palace, Reiko leaned over the altar and blew out the candles.
Sano, Reiko, and Detectives Inoue and Arai exited the palace gate to find the square outside as brightly lit, crowded, and noisy as a temple precinct during a festival. Lanterns ringed the perimeter. Troops milled about or bandaged minor wounds; they swilled sake from flasks while bantering about their exploits during the raid on the island. Others guarded a few of the Dragon King’s men who’d been taken prisoner and now squirmed on the pavement with their wrists and ankles bound. In the middle of the square, Midori and Hirata sat happily fussing over their baby. Near them, Detectives Marume and Fukida lay fast asleep, while Lady Keisho-in regaled General Isogai and the army with tales of her adventures. Reiko hurried to Midori. They exclaimed in delight to find each other safe. Chamberlain Yanagisawa approached Sano.
“Some of our men are continuing to search the island,” Yanagisawa said, “but most of the kidnappers seem to have been killed or captured. Did you find Dannoshin?”
Sano nodded, still amazed by the Dragon King’s confession. He had thought he’d learned everything about the man’s crimes before he got here, but the murder that had inspired them had proved to have dimensions he’d never suspected. “I killed him.”
“Then our mission was a success, and all is well,” Yanagisawa said.
But Sano thought otherwise. He was troubled by questions about what had happened to Reiko during her imprisonment. He looked at Hirata, and their gazes met. The smile vanished from Hirata’s face. His expression turned defensive. Sano knew he must eventually take Hirata to task for disobeying orders. A sense of unfinished business permeated tonight’s victory.
Lady Keisho-in clapped her hands. “Listen, everyone,” she ordered. When the crowd quieted and all eyes turned to her, she said, “Thank you for rescuing me. But don’t waste any more time sitting on your behinds and congratulating yourselves. I’m sick of this terrible place. Let’s go home!”
Amid the general stir of agreement, Reiko spoke: “Lady Yanagisawa is still missing.”
Sano had forgotten about her; and so, apparently, had everyone else, including the chamberlain. A commotion ensued as the assembly realized that the rescue wasn’t complete. Sano was about to organize a search for Lady Yanagisawa, when Keisho-in said, “There she is!”
Sano looked in the direction that Keisho-in pointed. He saw Lady Yanagisawa standing alone at the edge of the forest. Her hair and clothes were disarrayed, her posture and clasped hands rigid. With her furtive, wary expression, she seemed a harbinger of trouble yet to come.
32
Four days after the siege upon the Dragon King’s palace, news sellers hawked broadsheets in the hot, teeming districts of Edo. “The shogun’s mother has been rescued from her evil kidnapper and brought home!” they cried.
As the news spread through town, gongs rang at neighborhood shrines, where citizens offered prayers of thanks that fortune had spared Keisho-in. Priests garbed in saffron robes marched in processions through the streets, beating drums, to celebrate their patroness’s deliverance. In the Hibiya official district, guards hauled fourteen captive, shackled henchmen of the Dragon King out from Magistrate Ueda’s mansion and bore them off to the execution ground. The officials attending the trial departed the Court of Justice. Magistrate Ueda stepped off the dais and joined Sano, who had testified during the proceedings.
“Many thanks for saving my daughter,” Magistrate Ueda said. “I hear that Chamberlain Yanagisawa claims the credit for finding and rescuing the hostages, but my sources contradict his story. I’m aware of your role, as are many other people.”
“The honorable chamberlain is welcome to the credit,” Sano said truthfully.
“I also hear you’re back in the shogun’s good graces,” Magistrate Ueda said.
“For however long that may last,” Sano said.
“And Hoshina has been released from prison?”
“The shogun issued the order two days ago-as soon as we returned to Edo and delivered Lady Keisho-in to him, along with the Dragon King’s head as proof that her kidnapper had been brought to justice.”
“It will be interesting to see what becomes of the liaison between Hoshina and Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” said Magistrate Ueda. “But they must be thankful the crisis is past. And we can be thankful that Hirata-san’s new child survived. Her name-day celebration is this afternoon, is it not?”
“It is,” Sano said. “Will you attend?”
The magistrate nodded; after a pause, he said, “When I visited my daughter yesterday, she seemed unusually pensive and subdued. How is she this morning?”
“The same.” All his worries about Reiko assailed Sano. “She won’t tell me what happened while she was captive, other than general details of how all the women were treated. I don’t even know how she got them out of the palace. And there are bruises all over her. Did she tell you anything?”
Magistrate Ueda shook his head.
“But I have my suspicions,” said Sano.
His mind pictured the scene in the Dragon King’s chamber, with the rumpled bed and a woman’s white under-kimono beside it. He thought of how Reiko had known where to find the Dragon King. He wondered what coercion or desperation had made her do. He didn’t want to think about what could happen between a man and a beautiful woman he’d abducted. Rage, jealousy, and helplessness alloyed like hot, molten metals within Sano.
Magistrate Ueda’s concerned expression indicated that he guessed the direction of Sano’s thoughts. “Would you like some advice?”
Releasing his breath, Sano said, “I would.”
“Give her time to open her heart to you, but understand that some secrets are better left untold,” Magistrate Ueda said. “Remember that her spirit is as faithful to you as ever. Don’t judge her on what a madman did to her. Don’t let him drive you apart when you need each other most.”
Sano appreciated the wisdom of this advice that tempered his inclination to force the issue. “Thank you, Honorable Father-in-law.”
He took his leave, rather glad that he needn’t confront Reiko, for ahead loomed another confrontation that threatened a relationship almost as important to him as his marriage.
Inside Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s estate, sunlight dappled a garden that displayed the lush greenery of high summer. But the smoke from funeral pyres hazed the air. Fallen leaves on the gravel paths, and withered blossoms on the lilies, portended the season’s eventual demise. Cicadas shrilled in incessant warning.
Lady Yanagisawa and her daughter, Kikuko, stood hand in hand outside the private quarters. They peered up through the leafy branches of a plum tree at the chamberlain, who posed on the veranda, gazing moodily into the distance. This was the first time Lady Yanagisawa had seen her husband since they’d arrived home. After his troops had invaded the Dragon King’s island, and during the journey to Edo, he’d not even spoken to her. His indifference pained her terribly. Reiko had said that the kidnapping would make him realize he loved her, but it hadn’t. How Lady Yanagisawa hated Reiko for giving her false hope! She was glad Reiko hadn’t drowned, but wished she had.
Police Commissioner Hoshina came walking around the corner of the veranda toward the chamberlain. Lady Yanagisawa’s blood seethed with hatred for this man who’d usurped her husband’s affections. She saw the chamberlain tense as he turned to face Hoshina. They bowed to each other, and his profile lit up with a joy that his dignified poise couldn’t hide.