Okitsu suited action to words. Sano pictured Koheiji beside her, both of them gazing in puzzlement upon their inert master. “He didn’t move,” Okitsu said. “There was spit oozing out of his mouth. His eyes were open, but they had a sort of empty look. Koheiji called his name, but he didn’t answer. I shook him, but nothing happened. Koheiji said, ‘He’s dead.’ ”
Sano heard in her voice the echo of Koheiji’s, replete with horror. Amazement filled Sano. If she was telling the truth-and he thought she was this time-then this death he’d been investigating wasn’t a murder. Makino hadn’t died by foul play, a victim of his enemies, as his letter had claimed. Nor had Daiemon hired Koheiji to kill him. Someone had planted the note in Daiemon’s secret quarters and the story at the Floating Teahouse to make Daiemon appear responsible for Makino’s death. And Sano could guess who. Chamberlain Yanagisawa, with all his spies, must have discovered the secret quarters. The scheme to incriminate his enemy fit his devious nature. He must have expected Sano to find the false evidence during the course of the investigation. Sano was certain that if he hadn’t, Yanagisawa would have devised an alternate plan for bringing the note to light. But Yanagisawa couldn’t have known that his false evidence would lead Sano to the truth.
“I thought Makino had died because he’d strained himself too hard,” Okitsu said. “Koheiji said it was the extra cornus berry tea.”
Or perhaps his death had resulted from a convulsion due to both aphrodisiac poisoning and strenuous sex, Sano conjectured.
“But we didn’t kill him,” Okitsu said, hysterical with her need to convince. “We didn’t mean to hurt him. It was an accident!”
Relief showed on Otani’s face, and chagrin on Ibe’s. Hirata looked disappointed. Agemaki beheld Okitsu with loathing, obviously upset that her husband’s death wasn’t her rival’s fault. Sano shook his head. That the investigation should turn out like this! He’d crossed Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and risked his wife and son’s safety, all because Senior Elder Makino had succumbed to his own lust. Yet the investigation wasn’t over. A gap in the story divided the moment of Makino’s demise and the instant when Agemaki had found his corpse in the study.
“What happened after you discovered that Makino was dead?” Sano asked Okitsu.
“I told Koheiji that we should get help, we should tell someone,” Okitsu said. “But Koheiji said, ‘No! We can’t!’ " She grabbed her arm, as he must have done. “He said there was nothing anyone could do to save Makino. He said people might blame us for Makino dying. We could be put to death.” Her eyes grew round with the fear Koheiji had instilled in her. “I said, ‘What shall we do?’ Koheiji said he had an idea. He told me to get dressed fast. The sleeve of my kimono had gotten torn off during our game, and he wiped himself on it before he put on his clothes.”
Sano saw the actor carelessly tossing aside the sleeve, which would later turn up in Makino’s bedding.
“Then he told me to help him dress Makino.” Okitsu shivered and grimaced. “It was weird, like dressing a big doll. Afterward, we moved him to the study. You wouldn’t think a skinny old man like him could be so heavy, but it took both of us to carry him. We laid him on the floor. Koheiji broke the window latch. He said that would look as if someone had sneaked into the house and killed Makino. Then he ran outside and trampled the bushes.”
That explained who had planted the signs of an intruder and why, Sano noted.
“When he came back, he brought a wooden pole,” Okitsu said. “He told me to mess up the room. While I was throwing papers and books around"-Okitsu winced-“Koheiji was hitting Makino with the pole, to make it look like he’d been beaten to death.”
Sano wondered if, when Makino had written his letter, he had considered the possibility that his death would result from a natural or accidental cause rather than assassination. Probably he had. Makino had been an opportunist who must have viewed his own inevitable death as a final opportunity to exploit, a last chance to make trouble for the enemies he left behind. A murder investigation by Sano would have suited his purpose. He’d have relished the thought of his enemies harassed and persecuted as suspects, even if nobody was ever punished for his death because it turned out not to be a murder. He couldn’t have known that his death would involve his sexual games and the suspects would include his two partners.
“Koheiji hit Makino’s head. It bled all over the floor,” Okitsu said.
Her words reminded Sano of what he’d learned while examining corpses with Dr. Ito at Edo Morgue. He also remembered the bruises they’d found on Makino’s corpse. His idea of what had happened to Makino, which had changed time after time throughout his inquiries, suddenly shifted again.
“Koheiji put out the lanterns in Makino’s chambers,” Okitsu said. “He took me to his room. He said we should stay there until morning, and if anyone asked, we should say we’d been together the whole night and we hadn’t been near Makino at all. I said, ‘What if Agemaki heard us? She’ll know we’re lying.’ ”
Okitsu gave Agemaki a peevish look. Agemaki smirked. Okitsu said, “Koheiji told me not to worry about her because he could keep her quiet. So we did as he said. We pretended we didn’t know how Makino died. Later, Koheiji told me to say I’d seen Daiemon in the study.” She lifted her clasped hands, then let them plop apart on her lap. Disillusionment and tears clouded her charcoal-grimed face. “Things didn’t work out the way we planned. But we didn’t kill Makino.” She addressed Sano in a timid, pleading voice: “I swear it’s the truth.”
Hirata, Ibe, and Otani nodded, accepting Okitsu’s confession. But although Sano believed that she’d finally revealed all she knew-and she truly believed all she’d said-Makino hadn’t died the way Okitsu claimed. She and Koheiji weren’t as innocent as she thought.
“Makino’s death was nothing but an accident brought about by his own lust,” Otani said with relief. “And Daiemon didn’t conspire to assassinate him. Lord Matsudaira will be glad to know that he and his clan are no longer under suspicion.”
“Because Makino wasn’t murdered,” Ibe said, disgruntled. “The investigation has proved that no one is guilty.”
“I disagree,” Sano said. “Makino didn’t die when he collapsed during the game. He was alive until Koheiji hit him with the pole. The dead don’t bleed.” Nor do their bodies bruise when struck. “He must have had a fit and passed out while having sex. Koheiji’s beating finished him off.”
Okitsu gasped. “I didn’t know,” she wailed. “I thought he was already dead!”
Otani blew out his breath through pursed lips with an expression that said, What next? A smile glimmered around Agemaki’s mouth. “So Koheiji did do it,” she said triumphantly. “And Okitsu helped him cover up what happened. I told you she was an accomplice. I was right.”
“Makino’s death was murder after all,” Ibe said in a tone of stunned comprehension.
“Accidental murder,” Sano said. "Koheiji didn’t realize Makino was still alive when he beat him. He didn’t intend to kill Makino; he made a mistake. So did Okitsu.”
“A mistake that cost Makino his life,” Ibe said. “If Koheiji hadn’t beaten Makino to a bloody pulp after he fainted, and if this stupid girl had fetched a doctor instead of going along with that no-good actor, Makino might have survived.”
“Okitsu is guilty of interfering with an official investigation at the very least,” Hirata told Sano.