“Are you Emi?” he said, calling her by the alias that Sano had given her.
“Yes, honorable master.”
Reiko bowed, noting that he didn’t recognize her, although he’d seen her when she’d accompanied the palace ladies on outings and he’d escorted them. Sano had told Nomura that Emi was his cast-off mistress who needed work. Nomura owed Sano a favor because Sano had recommended him for a promotion, and he’d willingly agreed to help her, even if he didn’t understand why she must work in Senior Elder Makino’s house. Honor demanded that he fulfill his obligation without asking questions.
“Let’s go, then,” Nomura said.
He walked to the castle gate. Reiko trailed behind him. Sentries let her in the gate because Nomura vouched for her. His authority got her past the guards at the checkpoints along the passages. Reiko’s heart thudded as they walked the familiar streets of the official quarter. Soon they arrived at Senior Elder Makino’s estate. Black mourning drapery sagged from the portals. The mansion looked as ominous as a dungeon.
Nomura said his name and rank to the sentries in the guard booth. “I want to see the estate manager,” he told them.
They sent word inside, and presently a samurai appeared. He bore a strong resemblance to Nomura. “Greetings, Honorable Cousin,” he said. “What brings you here?”
“I’m seeking employment for this woman.” Nomura indicated Reiko. “Her name is Emi. I want you to hire her as a ladies’ maid.”
“Very well,” the estate manager said, automatically granting the favor that his high-ranking cousin asked. “Come with me,” he ordered Reiko.
She followed him through the gate. The guards closed it behind them. An awful sense of imprisonment undermined Reiko’s triumph at gaining entry to the estate. She recalled visits she’d made to friends at similar places, when she’d been shown every courtesy due the wife of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama. But now the estate manager led her around the mansion to the servants’ quarters, a plain, two-story wooden building. Here he turned her over to the housekeeper, whom he introduced as Yasue. She was an old woman with white hair, sallow skin, and a hunched back. She carried a thick, blunt stick under the sash of her gray kimono.
“This is Emi, a new maid I’ve just hired for the ladies,” he said to Yasue. “Put her to work.”
He departed, and Reiko felt as though she’d lost her last link with her ordinary world. She knew she wasn’t alone, because Sano had stationed two detectives inside the estate in case she needed help, but she had no idea where they were. She belatedly realized how little she knew about the lives of maids. The recollection that not all employers treated their servants as well as she and Sano did increased her terror.
“Don’t look so frightened,” Yasue said. Amusement glittered in her sharp eyes, which had yellowish whites. Her mouth, filled with large, protruding yellow teeth, grinned at Reiko. “I won’t bite you.”
She took Reiko to a cold, dank room in the servants’ quarters. On the bare earth floor lay rows of wooden pallets topped by straw-filled mattresses. Yasue opened a cupboard and said, “Leave your things here.”
Reiko stowed her bundle and cloak in one of many compartments that held clothes and other personal items belonging to the maids. She smelled the pungent reek of urine and feces from privies outside. The thought of sleeping in such crowded, squalid conditions made her physically ill.
Yasue led her through various buildings, named their functions, and laid out the household rules: “Maids should be as invisible and quiet as possible. Don’t go near Senior Elder Makino’s family, retainers, or guests unless you’re ordered to serve them. Don’t speak to them unless they speak to you.”
There went her hope of initiating conversations with the suspects and attempting to establish their guilt or innocence, Reiko thought. She and Yasue followed a path to a garden of rocks, white sand, and shrubs. In it stood a half-timbered building with wooden shutters and a broad veranda.
“Those are the private chambers,” Yasue said.
As Reiko gazed with interest at the scene of the murder, a woman glided across a covered walkway toward the building. Slim, elegant, and in her forties, she fit Sano’s description of Agemaki, widow of Senior Elder Makino. Then came a young, pretty girl accompanied by a strikingly handsome young man. Reiko surmised that they must be the concubine Okitsu and the actor Koheiji. She craned her neck, avid for a closer look at the murder suspects she’d come to observe. But they quickly disappeared into the private chambers.
“You’re not to go in there without permission,” Yasue said. “Come along now.”
Reiko had no choice but to let the woman hurry her away. They went to the kitchen, a vast den where hearths blazed and smoke and steam filled the air. Male cooks labored over boiling pots and sliced raw fish. They shouted orders to boys who stoked the fires and maids who flung dishes onto trays and ladled food into the dishes.
“There’s a banquet for the important people in Senior Elder Makino’s funeral procession,” Yasue said. “You can help out.”
She sat Reiko at a table where maids furiously chopped vegetables. She handed Reiko a knife, then left. Reiko was dismayed, for she’d not expected to do kitchen labor. A manservant hurled a bunch of huge white radishes at her. Never having learned much about cooking, she clumsily sliced a radish. The knife slipped and cut her finger; her blood stained the radish. The maids working beside Reiko ignored her. They were both older women, their faces hardened by toil.
“I heard that the master of this house was murdered,” Reiko said. “Did you see or hear anything?”
They frowned, skillfully wielding their knives. One woman said, “We’ve been ordered not to talk about that. Don’t mention it again-you’ll get somebody in trouble.”
More rules to thwart her aims! Reiko sighed in frustration. She wiped sweat off her face and grimly hacked the radishes. After what seemed like hours, Yasue reappeared.
“The ladies have ordered meals,” she told Reiko. “You can help serve them.”
Reiko was delighted to leave the kitchen with two other maids also assigned to the task. Carrying trays laden with covered dishes, they filed across the walkway to the private chambers. The guards let them inside. Excitement tingled through Reiko. Here she might discover the truth about Senior Elder Makino’s death.
“You go to Lady Agemaki,” one of the other maids told Reiko. “Her room is that way.”
They turned a corner, vanishing from sight. Reiko carried her tray along the corridor and came to an open door. Through it she saw the widow sitting alone. Reiko started to walk in, but suddenly a hand seized her arm in a fierce, startling grip.
“Kneel when you enter a room!” Yasue hissed in her ear.
She cuffed Reiko’s head, then withdrew. Reiko stood, her ears ringing from the blow, shaken because she’d forgotten the protocol for maids and she’d not known Yasue had followed her. The old woman moved as stealthily as a cat. Reiko knelt and hobbled across the threshold of the chamber. Agemaki stared into space, absorbed in her own musings. Thrilled to get close to the object of her interest, Reiko rose, crept toward Agemaki, and set the tray beside her.
Agemaki remained silent; she didn’t look at Reiko or the food. Reiko wondered if she should dare initiate an acquaintance. Was Yasue loitering about, watching to make sure she obeyed the rules? Reiko began removing the covers from the dishes on the tray while she awaited some cue from Agemaki.
“You can go now,” Agemaki said in a remote voice.
Reiko’s hands faltered.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Agemaki said. “Get out.”
Although Reiko hated losing a chance to spy, she meekly obeyed. She hesitated outside the door, reluctant to leave without accomplishing anything. From somewhere came the sound of samisen music, a man’s voice singing, and women giggling. Reiko crept down the corridor and peeked into a room where the actor Koheiji was entertaining the concubine Okitsu and the maids. Reiko told herself that no one would miss her if she took a moment to examine the scene of the murder. Maybe she would find something that Sano and his detectives had overlooked.