He and his men stood, as did Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s watchdogs. Rakuami jumped to his feet, bowed, and smiled, relieved to end Hirata’s interrogation. “To serve you is my pleasure,” he told Otani. “Perhaps you’ll do me the honor of visiting me again some other time?” His expansive gesture offered Otani his girls, food, drink, and music.
“I will,” Otani said.
Hirata and his detectives also rose, but Hirata said, “We’re not leaving yet. First, we’ll see what everyone else here has to say about Okitsu.”
He began separating girls and servants from the clients, who hastily absconded rather than get involved. Rakuami watched in helpless outrage. Hirata took a malicious, shameful pleasure in causing Rakuami trouble while forcing Otani and the other watchdogs to observe a tedious round of interviews. And although the interviews produced nothing more than Rakuami had told him, Hirata felt relieved that despite Otani’s hindrance, he’d discovered that Okitsu had a motive for the murder. He would have something to report to Sano.
At last, he and his party left the house. When they went outside to reclaim their horses, Otani drew Hirata aside and spoke in a confidential tone: “There’s something I must tell you, for your own good.”
Hirata eyed him warily.
“The sōsakan-sama is making a big mistake by conducting the investigation in this way,” Otani said. “If you follow his lead, you’ll go down with him. Do yourself a favor. Cooperate with me. Protect your own future.”
“Are you saying I should defy my master’s wish for the truth about the murder and conspire with you to incriminate the chamberlain so that Lord Matsudaira will reward me?” Hirata stared in disbelief at Otani’s puffy face.
“You needn’t put it so bluntly,” Otani said.
That Otani should try to suborn his loyalty to Sano! Enraged, Hirata wanted to lash out at Otani for insulting him and criticizing Sano’s judgment. But he mustn’t offend Otani and risk bringing Sano more trouble.
“Thank you for your offer, but I must decline,” he said with all the control he could manage.
Otani shrugged. “The offer stands, in case you come to your senses.”
Hirata was suddenly overwhelmed by fear that unless he could be free to carry out his inquiries without constant pressure, he would ultimately fail. Turning his back on Otani, he climbed on his horse and joined the detectives, who already sat astride their mounts, and whispered orders to them. As everybody rode away from Rakuami’s house, one detective suddenly bolted ahead. Another cantered his horse in the opposite direction. Another turned left at the intersection, while the last turned right.
“Where are they going?” demanded Otani.
“To follow some leads for me,” Hirata said.
Otani shouted at his men to go after the detectives. Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s men joined the pursuit. In the general confusion, Hirata slapped the reins and galloped away.
“Hey! Come back here!” Otani yelled.
As Hirata rode, he heard hooves pounding behind him as Otani gave chase. But he knew Nihonbashi better than Otani did. He veered down alleys, cut across marketplaces, and soon lost his watchdog. An exhilarating sense of freedom filled him as he raced alone through the wind and sunshine, bound for Asakusa Jinja Shrine, to investigate Senior Elder Makino’s wife.
14
Reiko alit from her palanquin in the Hibiya administrative district south of Edo Castle, in front of a mansion that belonged to her father, one of two magistrates who maintained law and order in Edo. She sent home the palanquin and her escorts, then carried a cloth-wrapped bundle to the gate. The sentries opened it for her, and she hurried through the courtyard, where police officers guarded shackled prisoners awaiting trial by the magistrate. Inside the mansion, she bypassed the public chambers that housed the Court of Justice. She went to the private quarters and closed herself inside the room that had been hers during her childhood. Ensconced amid the familiar teak cabinets, lacquer furniture, raised study niche, and painted murals of blossoming plum trees, she knelt on the tatami floor and opened her bundle.
It contained two plain indigo cotton kimonos with matching sashes, two white cotton under-robes, coarse white socks, a padded cotton cloak, and straw sandals-typical clothing for servants. Wrapped inside the clothing were a rice bowl and chopsticks, a comb, hairpins, a head kerchief, a Buddhist rosary, and a few copper coins. The only item not normally owned by a maid was a dagger in a leather sheath. Reiko changed her silk robes for the rough cotton clothes, then sat at the dressing table and studied her reflection in the mirror.
She picked up a cloth and wiped the rouge and white powder from her face and mouth. Her teeth, dyed gleaming black in the fashionable custom for married women, betrayed her rank. Reiko scrubbed them with a brush until they faded to a drab gray. She hoped no one would notice her shaved eyebrows-another mark of class and fashion. She unpinned her shiny, black waist-length hair, then opened a charcoal brazier and scooped out a handful of ash, which she worked into her hair until it was streaked a dull, sooty gray. Then she pinned her hair into a simple knot and smiled at her reflection. The gray streaks dimmed her natural beauty and aged her twenty years. Satisfaction with her disguise almost eclipsed her fear of leaving safe territory.
Reiko strapped the dagger to her thigh under her skirts, put on the cloak, and repacked her bundle, which she carried as she left the room. She hunched down the passage, imitating an old woman. When she turned a corner, she saw her father walking toward her, clad in his black judicial robes. Alarm jolted Reiko. She’d hoped not to see him because she didn’t want him to know what she was doing. But she couldn’t avoid him-he’d seen her. Reiko cringed as he approached…
… and passed her without a second glance. He hadn’t recognized her! He’d thought she was one of his maids. Reiko suppressed a giggle of delight that her disguise had passed the first test, then hastened from the mansion.
In the street she spied two peasant men carrying an empty kago-a basketlike chair for hire. She waved them down, climbed into the kago, and told them to take her to Edo Castle. As they trotted her past the walled estates, she felt vulnerable without her usual attendants. She shivered in the cold wind, missing the enclosed security of her palanquin. Mounted samurai towered over her. Stripped of the trappings of rank, she attracted little notice from the men, but invisibility was a mixed blessing. If one of Edo ’s many thieves or marauders should attack her, no one would come to her aid. Now Reiko’s doubts returned in full force. She had the strange, disturbing sense that she’d lost her talents as well as her identity. How would she ever learn anything useful about Senior Elder Makino’s wife or concubine? How would she protect herself, even with the dagger she carried?
Reiko fought the insidious panic that waited to ensnare her. She prayed that a bad spell wouldn’t overtake her now, as the kago bore her onto the promenade outside Edo Castle. Its walls, towers, and roofs, looming on the hill above her, no longer represented home or safety. Instead, the castle proclaimed the might of the Tokugawa regime and signaled danger to outsiders-such as herself. Now the kago men stopped near the gate.
“Get out!” they ordered her. “Pay up!”
She reluctantly climbed out of the chair amid the soldiers and officials who thronged the promenade. As she paid the kago men, she saw a florid, thickset samurai standing outside the castle gate, scanning the crowds. Reiko recognized him as Nomura, a palace guard captain and the friend whom Sano had asked to meet her here and get her inside Senior Elder Makino’s estate. He saw her and approached.