“But the shogun will want Sano-san to stay, won’t he?” Midori whispered anxiously. Reiko saw she’d realized that if Sano went, Hirata would also lose his station with the Tokugawa. He and Sano would both be rōnin, their families’ home and livelihood gone, their honor destroyed after years of faithful service and much personal sacrifice. “Won’t the shogun keep Sano-san and his detective corps no matter what Lord Matsudaira thinks?”
“The shogun has secluded himself in the palace for the past three days,” Reiko said. “He’s just summoned my husband to an audience with him and Lord Matsudaira. I suppose we’ll soon find out whether we’re safe-or ruined.”
A cadence of doom reverberated through Sano as he walked up the length of the audience hall toward the dais on which the shogun sat. The shogun waited in impassive silence as he approached. Lord Matsudaira, kneeling in the position of honor to the shogun’s right, regarded Sano with a stern expression. The four members of the Council of Elders gravely watched him from their two rows on the upper floor level below the dais. Guards standing around the room and secretaries seated at desks along the walls avoided his gaze. This cool reception convinced Sano that his tenure as the shogun’s Most Honorable Investigator of Events, Situations, and People would end this very day.
As he knelt on the lower level of the floor and bowed to the assembly, he noticed the young man who knelt near the shogun’s left. What was Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s son Yoritomo doing here? Surprise almost eclipsed Sano’s dread. He’d heard that Yanagisawa’s whole family had been exiled. Why had Lord Matsudaira spared the boy? Sano could only guess that Yoritomo had seduced and charmed the shogun so thoroughly that the shogun had insisted on keeping the boy in Edo despite Lord Matsudaira’s opposition.
“Greetings, Sano-san,” the shogun said in a weary voice. He looked older and frailer than Sano had ever seen him. “It seems that, ahh, an eternity has passed since we last met.”
“Indeed it does, Your Excellency.” Sano had spent an agonizingly long three days suspended between his dread of losing his post and his honor, and his fear that Hirata would die. At least he could soon stop waiting for one blow to fall.
“I, ahh, have something important to tell you,” the shogun said.
He looked toward Lord Matsudaira, as if for permission to speak. Sano saw that even though Lord Matsudaira might not always have his way with the shogun, he now had their lord as firmly under his thumb as Chamberlain Yanagisawa ever had.
“All in due time, Honorable Cousin,” said Lord Matsudaira. “First we must hear Sano-san’s report on his investigation.”
His gaze commanded Sano. As everyone watched him and waited for him to speak, Sano felt as though he’d been granted a stay of execution that only made his doom more unbearable to anticipate. “Senior Elder Makino’s murder was an accident,” he said, then explained what had happened. “The actor Koheiji has been executed. Makino’s concubine Okitsu was sentenced to work as a courtesan in the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter.” Since she’d been an accomplice in covering up the murder but not directly responsible for it, she’d been given the usual punishment for female petty criminals.
“Makino’s wife Agemaki has been tried for the murder of his first wife,” Sano said, “but there was insufficient evidence to prove her guilt. She, too, has been sentenced to Yoshiwara.” She now lived in the same brothel as Okitsu, her rival. Sano had told its owner to keep a close watch on her, lest she inflict her murderous tendencies on her companions or clients.
“Have you also solved the murder of my nephew?” Lord Matsudaira said.
“I have,” Sano said. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s wife assassinated Daiemon, on orders from her husband.”
He could have mentioned that he’d finally accounted for Koheiji’s, Okitsu’s, and Tamura’s whereabouts on the night Daiemon had died. Koheiji had admitted leaving the rehearsal to dally with a lady love, and Okitsu had gone out looking for him at the Sign of Bedazzlement, among other places where he’d been known to conduct romances. Tamura had had a secret meeting with a retainer of Lord Matsudaira, during which he’d pledged to join Lord Matsudaira’s faction. But these details didn’t matter anymore.
Lord Matsudaira nodded, appearing satisfied with Sano’s report, especially since it cleared him of blame for the death of Senior Elder Makino and confirmed that Yanagisawa had been responsible for the murder of Daiemon. Yet Sano doubted that Lord Matsudaira had forgotten that Sano had offended him during the investigation. Sano thought surely his fate was already decided.
The shogun also nodded, like a puppet operated by Lord Matsudaira. “Well, I am glad that we, ahh, have dispensed with the matter,” he said as if the murders and the investigation had been a vexing but minor inconvenience to him. He seemed not to care anymore that his dear old friend and his onetime heir apparent were dead. “But one problem remains.”
He turned to Sano. “I have, ahh, lost my chamberlain.” The shogun sighed in fleeting regret that Yanagisawa was gone. Sano realized that Tokugawa Tsunayoshi didn’t understand exactly why; he still didn’t know about the war between the factions or the circumstances that had led to Yanagisawa’s exile. “I need a new chamberlain. After, ahh, much deliberation, I have, ahh decided that it will be you.”
Sano’s jaw dropped. At first he thought he’d not heard correctly. He had to repeat the shogun’s words in his mind before he could believe them. Shock rendered him speechless. Instead of losing his post, he’d gained a promotion to the highest office in the bakufu! The forces that had plunged Chamberlain Yanagisawa to his downfall had propelled Sano in the opposite direction. Now Sano saw the shogun, and the assembly, waiting expectantly for his reply.
“Your Excellency, this is a most unprecedented honor,” Sano said, breathless and dizzy from his sudden, inexplicable, and rapid ascent. “A thousand thanks.” He was aware that the post represented the pinnacle of a samurai’s career but was too stunned to think what the job entailed or how he felt about it. “May I ask… what made you choose to grant me the privilege of serving as your chamberlain?”
“You’ve never done me wrong as far as I know,” the shogun said. “And your, ahh, company is tolerable to me. Therefore, you are, ahh, as good a choice as any.”
This was faint praise and inadequate reason. Sano looked to Lord Matsudaira for an explanation.
“All of us have agreed that you are the right man for the post,” Lord Matsudaira said, indicating himself and the elders. He gave Sano a sardonic smile. The elders nodded in approval that seemed grudging yet resigned. Yoritomo gazed upon Sano with an expression that combined fear with hope. “Your conduct during the investigation was the deciding factor.”
Belatedly, Sano noticed the seating arrangement occupied by Lord Matsudaira, the elders, and Yoritomo. Elders Uemori and Ohgami, allies of Lord Matsudaira, sat nearest him. Elders Kato and Ihara, once beholden to Chamberlain Yanagisawa, sat nearest his son. Although the battle had ended, the war had not. The remnants of Yanagisawa’s faction had regrouped around Yoritomo, proxy for his absent father. They were using him-and his position close to the shogun-as a means to challenge Lord Matsudaira for control over Japan. Already they’d gained a foothold in the new order. And at last Sano understood why both sides had chosen him as chief administrator of the bakufu.
His skills, accomplishments, loyalty to the Tokugawa, and wisdom had nothing to do with the decision. During his investigation, he’d proved that he could work with both factions while letting neither control him.
His independent mind and his imperviousness to coercion had made him the only man whom both sides found acceptable. Neither side would choose someone connected with the other. He’d won the post of chamberlain by default.