Nothing else she’d done had changed his mind about her. She had to try something new.
Taeko hurried after Masahiro.
6
Sano rode out the castle gate with Detective Marume and two troops, all he could take from home while leaving enough to guard his family. The avenue across the moat was crowded with beggars loudly soliciting alms. Nuns, priests, and monks vied with homeless refugees driven into the cities by the tsunami that had flooded their coastal villages. Sano noticed a family camped out on a blanket, surrounded by their few possessions. It was a woman, little boy and girl, and a man with bandaged stubs for legs. Sano felt a stab of pity and had to look away.
He and Marume crossed the avenue and rode through the daimyo district, past new buildings that had sprung up at estates flattened by the earthquake. The streets were choked with oxcarts hauling timbers and stone. Wheels dug deep ruts; flies swarmed over manure that reeked under the hot sun. Porters lugged rice bales, water casks, and bundles of food for the peasants who hammered, sawed, plastered, and tiled. In the estates that belonged to minor daimyo who governed small provinces, gaps in unrepaired walls exposed framework on bare foundations. In those owned by powerful lords of large, wealthy domains, nearly completed barracks surrounded stately new mansions. Lord Tsunanori, daimyo of Kii Province-also the husband of Tsuruhime and the son-in-law of the shogun-was in that fortunate category. But his stronghold was an enclave of gloomy quiet. Black mourning drapery hung over the double-roofed gate where Sano and his men dismounted from their horses.
“Where are the relatives, friends, and neighbors?” Marume asked. “Shouldn’t they be coming to pay their respects to the shogun’s dead daughter?”
“This house has been visited by smallpox.” Sano was glad that Marume was recovering from the loss of Fukida, his partner, who’d died during the earthquake. The two men had been like brothers. Lately Marume had begun to regain his robust physique and talk more. “People don’t want to risk infection.”
“What’s a little smallpox between friends?” Marume said with a touch of his old humor. “I’ll risk it with you anytime.”
“I’m glad I still have you for company.”
“I wonder why Yanagisawa let you keep me. Probably because he knew I would make too much trouble for him if he tried to take me away.”
Sano approached the two sentries at the gate, introduced himself, and said, “I’m here to see Lord Kii Tsunanori.”
A servant escorted Sano and Marume through the estate, to the martial arts practice ground. Straw archery targets stood at one end. Raucous laughter came from the other end, where a crowd was gathered around two people batting a shuttlecock back and forth with wooden paddles. The paddles were brightly painted with portraits of Kabuki actors, the shuttlecock fashioned from a hard, round soapberry and red feathers. Sano recognized the game as hanetsuki, traditionally played by girls at the New Year. But these players were a broad-shouldered samurai with a long upper body and short legs, dressed only in a loincloth, and a pretty young woman in a white under-kimono. The woman missed a shot.
“Take it off!” yelled the audience, comprised of other samurai and young women.
Giggling, the woman dropped her robe. She flaunted her naked breasts and shaved pubis. The audience roared. The usual penalty for missing a shot during hanetsuki was an ink mark on the face, but this couple had perverted the innocent game: Their penalty was removal of an item of clothing.
“It looks like they’re getting near the end of the game,” Marume said. “All that’s left to go is her socks and his loincloth.”
The male player hooted and pumped his fist in the air. The female didn’t seem to mind exposing herself. Her shaved pubis identified her as a prostitute; she was probably accustomed to such bawdy entertainment.
Sano cleared his throat and said, “Lord Kii Tsunanori?”
The audience quieted. The male player turned. Sano recognized Lord Tsunanori; they’d met a few times. Lord Tsunanori’s arrogant stance bespoke his pride in himself. Sano knew he was an excellent swordsman who often competed in, and won, tournaments. But his head didn’t match his strong physique. It had a squat shape with a roll of fat at the back of his neck. His regular features had an odd slackness. The skin drooped around his large, bold eyes.
“Chamberlain Sano?” Lord Tsunanori’s mouth was loose, as if the muscles didn’t have enough tone to hold the full lips closed. They gaped now, in dismay, because Sano had caught him in behavior inappropriate for a widower on the morning after his wife’s death. He pretended that the scene Sano had just witnessed had never happened. “Welcome. Let’s go inside.”
Sano didn’t tell Lord Tsunanori about his demotion. He let Lord Tsunanori think he was still the shogun’s second-in-command, backed by the full authority of the government. Lord Tsunanori led Sano and Marume toward the mansion. The naked woman tossed him his robe, and he put it on. It was heavy silk, printed in clashing red, orange, and purple, typical for rich, fashionable daimyo. Sano smelled sweat, alcohol, and wintergreen hair oil on him. They went into a reception room. A funeral altar held offerings of fruit, flowers, and wine, and a portrait of Tsuruhime. She’d been a plain woman; she had the shogun’s weak chin. She looked lonely.
Sano introduced Detective Marume, then said, “We’ve come to offer you our condolences.”
“Not many other people have come.” Lord Tsunanori sounded resentful. “They’re afraid to set foot here, and we’re not having the usual funeral rites.” Those included a wake, with the body present in a closed coffin. “The remains were cremated last night.” Corpses of smallpox victims were burned immediately, to prevent contagion.
Lord Tsunanori glanced at a tray stand that held decanters and cups. “I’ve forgotten my manners. Sorry. Would you like a drink?”
Sano and Marume politely refused. Lord Tsunanori said, “Of course. Nobody wants to drink or eat anything here. I guess I’ll just have one by myself.” Lord Tsunanori knelt, poured a cup of sake, and downed it. Sano noticed his flushed face and awkward movements; he was already drunk. “Customs have gone out the window because Tsuruhime died of smallpox.”
Sano saw an opening to begin his inquiries. “How did she get smallpox? It’s not that common.” It mostly afflicted the poorer classes, who lived in crowded, unsanitary conditions.
“There’s all kinds of diseases going around everywhere since the earthquake,” Lord Tsunanori said. “I hear there’s smallpox in the tent camps. She must have brushed up against somebody in town.”
“Had she been out of the house much during the days before she became ill?” Sano couldn’t believe she had; ladies had mostly stayed home since the earthquake. Conditions in Edo were unpleasant due to the debris and construction work, and crime had increased because impoverished, desperate citizens had resorted to attacking and robbing the rich.
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask her servants.”
Sano planned to. “Has anyone else in the household come down with smallpox?”
“No, thank the gods.”
“Why only Tsuruhime?”
“She was just unlucky, I guess,” Lord Tsunanori said. “As soon as she broke out in sores, I had her isolated.”
“Who took care of her?” Sano asked.
“Her nurse.”
“Why didn’t she get smallpox?”
“She had it when she was young.”
People who’d survived smallpox were safe from a recurrence. “Who had access to Tsuruhime’s room?”
“Her ladies-in-waiting, the servants.”
“Could anyone else have handled her things?”
“Handled, how?” Lord Tsunanori looked puzzled, then alarmed. “Do you mean, put something in with them that was contaminated with smallpox?”
Sano and Marume shared a surprised glance. How quickly Lord Tsunanori had jumped to the notion that his wife had contracted smallpox from a contaminated item placed among her possessions. “I just wondered,” Sano said. “I’ve heard it’s possible to get smallpox from touching things used by someone who had the disease.”