“I’ll win this war in your name,” Lord Matsudaira promised. “You won’t have lived or died for nothing. And when I rule Japan, I will expose Chamberlain Yanagisawa as the scoundrel and murderer that he is.”
Chamberlain Yanagisawa and his son Yoritomo stood in a watchtower on the wall of his compound. They gazed through the barred windows, across Edo. Mist and smoke obscured the field where the battle raged. Distance muffled the blaring of conch trumpets. Yanagisawa inhaled deeply, his keen nose detecting the faint, sulfurous odor of gunpowder. He imagined he tasted blood in the air. Exultation pulsed alongside dread inside him.
“I’ve heard that some of our allies have defected to Lord Matsudaira,” said Yoritomo. “That he has three troops for every two of ours, and more guns. Things are bad for us, aren’t they, Honorable Father?”
Yanagisawa nodded, for he couldn’t deny the truth. “But don’t despair. We’ve other weapons against Lord Matsudaira besides troops and guns.”
He looked out the open door, which led to an enclosed corridor that ran along the top of the wall. Some twenty paces down the corridor, in the dim light from its tiny windows, stood his wife. She watched Yanagisawa with such intensity that he could feel her gaze like flames licking his body. He smiled slyly to himself as he turned back to Yoritomo.
“There are other ways to destroy our enemy than fighting on a battlefield.” Yanagisawa laid a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder. “When we’re finished, we’ll control the regime.”
And he would be above the law, immune to evil consequences from the murder investigation.
27
A party that evening in the reception hall of Senior Elder Makino’s estate mocked the threat posed by the war.
While Koheiji played the samisen and sang, male servants beat drums. Okitsu and two maids danced in a circle, singing along, tipsy and giggling. Other maids poured sake for samurai guards who lounged around the room, laughing, calling out encouragement to the dancers, and toasting one another. The widow and her ladies-in-waiting sat in a corner, drinking. Agemaki’s eyes were glazed; she swayed back and forth. Lanterns glowed brightly. A desperate, uneasy gaiety infused the air.
Reiko, who’d sneaked away from the kitchen, peered in through a gap between the lattice-and-paper partitions. A door across the room from her scraped open. Into the party strode Tamura. His face wore an angry scowl.
“Stop this racket!” he shouted.
Koheiji plinked a few last, discordant notes on the samisen. As his singing trailed off, the drummers fell silent; Okitsu and the dancers stumbled to a halt, their giggles ending in nervous twitters. The guards put down their cups and sat upright; their cheer gave way to apprehension. All the revelers stared in surprise at Tamura.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Tamura demanded, surveying the revelers with contempt.
Reiko was glad to witness something more than drunken merriment and glad to see Tamura, whom she’d not had a chance to observe since yesterday in Makino’s chamber.
After a brief, uncomfortable silence, Koheiji said, “We’re just having a little fun.”
“Fun? With the honorable Senior Elder Makino dead only four days?” Tamura said, incredulous. His hard, shiny complexion turned purplish-red with rage. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Such disrespect toward your master! Such disregard for propriety!”
He pointed at the guards. “Get back to your posts.” The men leaped to their feet and collided with one another in their haste to leave the room. Tamura dismissed the maids and ladies-in-waiting, then addressed Agemaki, Koheiji, and Okitsu: “As for you, there will be no more such entertainment.”
His back was toward Reiko, so she couldn’t see his expression, but she had a clear view of the other three people. She saw guilt on Okitsu’s face, blankness on Agemaki’s, and offense on Koheiji’s.
“Hey, you can’t order us around,” Koheiji said. “You’re not our master. We’ll do as we please.”
“I’m in charge here for the time being,” Tamura said. “My master is gone, and I needn’t put up with nonsense from you three for his sake anymore. You’ll behave properly from now on. Now go to your rooms at once.”
Reiko saw anger focus Agemaki’s blank gaze. Okitsu gasped in offense. “Can he make us?” she asked Koheiji.
“Of course he can’t.” Koheiji’s chest swelled with outrage as he glared at Tamura. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Nor am I,” Agemaki said, her voice slurred by drink.
“We’ll see about that,” Tamura said. He stalked over to Agemaki, seized her arm, and hauled her to her feet.
“Let me go!” she cried. “How dare you treat your master’s widow like this!”
“You’re nothing but a whore who took advantage of an old man,” Tamura said. “I’ve seen you fawn over Senior Elder Makino, then gag behind his back. I warned him that you were a selfish, greedy witch and up to no good, but did he listen? No-the fool married you anyway. Well, you’ve wrung your last bit of gold from him. Your days here are numbered.”
Agemaki shouted protests, clawing at his arm, but he dragged her toward the door. On the way, he grabbed Okitsu.
“No!” shrieked Okitsu. “Help me, Koheiji-san!”
She flung out her hand toward the actor. As he and Tamura tugged her in opposite directions, she reeled between them.
“Let go of her,” Koheiji shouted.
“You two are the scum of the earth,” Tamura said, struggling with Agemaki. “I’ve seen you playing your filthy sex games with my master, distracting him from duty, sinking him into degradation. None of you respected or cared for him. You’re all nothing but parasites who fed on his wealth!”
“Hey! What about you? Do you think you’re so much better than us?” Koheiji said. He and Tamura yanked on Okitsu, who squealed. “You lived off Makino, too. You’d be nothing if not for him. And everybody knows you hated him because he wasn’t the virtuous samurai you wanted him to be.”
“You’ll regret that you dared speak to me with such disrespect,” Tamura said, his eyes black with fury. “Especially if I find out that one of you killed my master.” Tamura moved toward the door, dragging Agemaki. With brutal strength, he hauled Koheiji as well as Okitsu along after him. “I’ll carry out my vendetta and make you pay with your own life for his death.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to have the murder pinned on one of us,” Koheiji said, bracing his feet on the floor and clinging to the squealing, sobbing Okitsu. “That would get you off the hook, wouldn’t it? But do you know what I say? I say you murdered old Makino.” Brazen with anger and fear, he jabbed his index finger at Tamura. “You wanted to get rid of him, and us, as well. You killed four birds with one arrow.”
Reiko wondered if Tamura had indeed killed Makino, for those very reasons. She recalled watching Tamura’s suspicious behavior in the hidden chamber. Perhaps he’d sought to purge the house, the clan, and himself of evil influences by killing Makino and banishing his hangers-on.
But Reiko also recalled her suspicions regarding the other three.
A sudden, fierce grip on her shoulder halted Reiko’s thoughts. She snapped her head around to find herself looking into the ugly, triumphant face of Yasue.
“Hah! Caught you!” Yasue said.
Her voice was so loud that the people in the room turned at the sound. Dismay filled Reiko as they ceased their tussling and peered in her direction.
“What’s going on out there?” Tamura demanded.
Reiko tore free of Yasue. She bolted, but the old woman caught her sleeve. They wrestled together, crashed against the partition. As the flimsy lattice and paper ripped and splintered, Reiko and Yasue stumbled, through the jagged hole they’d made, into the room. Tamura, Koheiji, Agemaki, and Okitsu stared in amazement.