Reiko sensed he wasn’t telling her everything that had happened with Yanagisawa. Not much relieved, she said, “What did you find out?”
“That Yoshisato protected me from Yanagisawa. That’s why Yanagisawa hasn’t killed me. I have Yoshisato to thank for my life.”
Now Reiko was even more astounded. “What else?”
“That Yoshisato is an excellent swordfighter, but I can hold my own against him, at least when we’re not really trying to kill each other.” Sano described the tournament. “That he did visit Tsuruhime, but he claims he didn’t infect her with smallpox.”
“Do you believe him?”
Sano nodded; he ate an oyster out of its shell.
“Why?”
“Because he’s not what I expected. I still think he’s Yanagisawa’s son, but he’s a far better person.” Sano chuckled, as if at a joke on himself. “He wants to form a coalition to improve the government. He asked me to be in it, as his ally.”
Reiko sat back in astonishment. “What did you tell him?”
“I promised to think about it.”
“How could you?” Reiko couldn’t imagine Sano allying with Yanagisawa’s son, the boy who stood to inherit the dictatorship by fraud. “To protect our family?”
Conflict shadowed Sano’s features. “That’s the biggest reason, yes. But he has the makings of a good shogun.”
How ironic that a fake should be better qualified to be dictator than the current shogun, Reiko thought.
Masahiro came back with the physician, a nice old man who wore the dark blue coat of his profession. Sano gave him the pouch and said, “Can you tell us what these are?”
The physician poured the herbs onto his palm and examined them. “Pennyroyal, cotton root bark, and dong quai.” He frowned at Reiko. “You haven’t taken this, have you?”
“No,” Reiko said.
“Good,” the physician said. “It causes the womb to contract and the opening to relax. You shouldn’t take it unless you want to induce an abortion.”
Reiko felt suddenly faint. The musty smell of the herbs nauseated her. Abortion was legal and common, but she couldn’t bear thinking about it. “Get it away from me, please!”
Sano sent Masahiro to lock the herbs in the safe in his office. The physician left. As her faintness and sickness abated, Reiko recognized the implications of the herbs. “Tsuruhime wanted medicine that causes abortions. That means she must have been pregnant.”
Sano nodded. “With a child she didn’t want.”
They were both silent, shocked by their discovery. Had she not died, the shogun’s daughter could have borne a child and complicated the battle over the succession.
“It couldn’t have been Lord Tsunanori’s,” Sano said. “Not if he was telling the truth when he said he hadn’t slept with her in years, and I think he was.”
“Then who was the father?” Reiko asked.
Masahiro returned. “It must be Jinnosuke the soldier. I saw him today. He said he and Tsuruhime were, uh, lovers.” Masahiro blushed as he described his talk with Jinnosuke.
Reiko smiled. He was shy about sex, at least when discussing it with his parents. She was proud of him for interviewing a witness all by himself and finding a clue. “Suppose Jinnosuke was the father. Maybe Tsuruhime was afraid her husband would be angry because he would know the baby wasn’t his.” That seemed a logical reason for her to want an abortion.
Sano shook his head. “Lord Tsunanori might have been angry at her for committing adultery, but not necessarily about the baby, especially if it was male. He wanted to be the father of the shogun’s grandson. He’d have been glad to claim it. Even if it was female, he could have used it to make a marriage alliance with another powerful clan.”
“Tsuruhime must have known that if she didn’t want the child, she couldn’t let Lord Tsunanori find out about it,” Reiko said. “That must be why she swore Emi to secrecy.”
“Jinnosuke thinks Lord Tsunanori knows about him and Tsuruhime,” Masahiro said. “He’s afraid Lord Tsunanori will kill him. Maybe Tsuruhime wanted to protect him by getting rid of the baby.”
Reiko was disturbed because Masahiro was learning about adultery, illegitimate pregnancies, and abortions at such a young age, but she was proud of his skill at reasoning. “That seems a likely explanation.”
“It seems likely that Tsuruhime was infected with smallpox because she was pregnant,” Sano said.
“And if Lord Tsunanori didn’t do it, then we’re back where we started,” Reiko said.
“With Yanagisawa as the best suspect,” Sano agreed.
“Along with Yoshisato,” Reiko said.
Sano nodded, looking troubled. “I hope it’s not Yoshisato.”
“You’re always telling me to be objective during investigations,” Reiko reminded Sano. “You warn me against favoring suspects who are people I like.”
“I know.” Sano seemed irritated because she’d thrown his own words back at him, and uncomfortable because he wasn’t following his own rule. “Yanagisawa may be responsible for Tsuruhime’s death, but I don’t think Yoshisato was in on the crime.”
“If Yoshisato was, you can’t let him off the hook,” Masahiro said.
“I won’t.” Now Sano sounded on edge because his son thought he might be so unfair.
Reiko felt an anxiety that verged on panic. At times she and Sano had disagreed during investigations. She prayed that this wasn’t one of those times. They had enough problems already.
“I have to obtain justice for the shogun’s daughter,” Sano said curtly. “I will, no matter who the killer is.” He headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Reiko asked.
“To see Lady Nobuko. I want to hear what she has to say about this latest development.”
* * *
Sano walked uphill along the stone-walled passage that led to the palace. Chilly night steeped Edo Castle in darkness relieved only by the lanterns at checkpoints and torches carried by patrol guards. Only scattered, distant footsteps, the rattle of night soil carts heading out of the city, and occasional voices calling interrupted the quiet. Sano welcomed privacy and peace. Tension from the acrimonious day seeped from his muscles, but his mind was still on edge. He needed to adjust to the news of Tsuruhime’s pregnancy and its implications. He also had to consider Yoshisato’s proposition. How could he balance his need to protect his family with his responsibility to protect a youth who was associated with his worst enemy yet might be innocent of the murder? He loved his wife and son, but right now he couldn’t listen to them challenging his judgment. Sano walked slowly, wanting time alone to think.
The palace was deserted except for the sentries at the entrances. Stars glittered above the curved peaks and gables of its roof. Flames flickering in stone lanterns lit Sano’s way to a separate wing of the women’s quarters. There Lady Nobuko lived in a little house attached to the main building by a covered corridor and surrounded by a narrow garden whose earthen wall and bamboo thickets excluded noise. Korika, her lady-in-waiting, opened the door.
“I want to see Lady Nobuko,” Sano said.
A worried expression came over Korika’s broad, pleasant face. “I’m sorry, but Lady Nobuko has gone to bed. She had a bad day.”
Sano was about to make it worse. “Wake her up. This is important.”
“Very well.” Korika ushered him into a small parlor, lit a lantern, and left.
Sano knelt. He waited for a long while before she returned with Lady Nobuko.
“You had better have a good reason for calling at this hour.” Lady Nobuko wore her usual drab, dignified robes, but her silver-streaked hair hung in a thin braid, and she hadn’t put on any makeup. Deep wrinkles on her face, usually filled in with thick white rice powder, made the muscle spasm around her right eye even more apparent.
“I do. I just learned that Tsuruhime was pregnant.”
Lady Nobuko’s muscle spasm tightened, wrenching her face diagonally. Korika put her hands to her full cheeks. Moaning in pain, Lady Nobuko curled up on the floor.
“You didn’t know, then.” Sano’s statement confirmed the obvious.