“They should know better than to desert their post. As soon as I can get somebody to let us in, I’ll take you to Lord Matsumae. He’ll be wanting to hear what you’ve found out, even though it’s nothing.” He stalked to the base of one of the turrets that flanked the gate. “Hey! Anybody up there?”
Sano spoke in a low voice to Marume: “It’s time for a talk with Lord Matsumae. He’s the next step in our investigation.”
Marume gave Sano a look of surprise. “You can’t be thinking he’s the killer.”
“The killer is often the person who was closest to the victim.” Sano spoke from years of experience as a detective. “In this case, it’s him.”
“But he was in love with the woman,” Marume said.
“Love can be a stronger motive than hate. Particularly when the loved one had a talent for stirring up jealousy.”
“But he’s letting you investigate the murder. Would he do that if he were guilty?”
“Maybe.” Who understood what went on in the mind of a madman apparently possessed by the victim’s evil spirit?
A soldier popped his head out a window in the turret. Gizaemon told him to open the gate. Soon Sano, Marume, and Gizaemon were inside the castle. Snow blanketed the courtyard, and the air seemed colder here than outside. As they walked through passageways, the castle seemed deserted, a ghost village. The palace had the air of a beast hibernating.
“I would prefer to see Lord Matsumae alone,” Sano said.
Gizaemon looked weary of arguing. “Fine. Your man and I will wait nearby.”
Lord Matsumae was seated in his private office, poring over ledgers by the light of a lantern hung from the ceiling. Heat simmered up through grilles in the floor, from charcoal braziers underneath. When he saw Sano at the threshold, he said in a loud whisper, “Come in. Please sit down. I’m reviewing the account books. They seem to have become disordered.”
Surprised to find him so calmly and productively occupied, Sano entered, knelt, and glanced at the ledgers. Even reading upside down, he could tell that the entries for the past few months were sketchy, the writing almost illegible. Lord Matsumae’s officials must have been too busy coping with him to keep the books.
“I’m sorry to admit that I’ve been neglecting the affairs entrusted to me,” Lord Matsumae said ruefully. “I can only hope the shogun will forgive me.”
His remorse seemed genuine, his state of mind normal. But Sano detected something in the air around him, like the smell of a sick person who has only temporarily rallied from an illness.
“But my work can wait,” Lord Matsumae said, folding his hands atop the ledgers. “Have you found out anything new?”
“Not yet,” Sano began.
“Shhh!” Putting a finger to his lips, Lord Matsumae whispered, Keep your voice down. Tekare is asleep. Don’t wake her up.“
Sano’s flesh crawled at the thought of her spirit coiled inside Lord Matsumae like a dormant snake. He said quietly, “I must ask your help with my investigation.”
“Of course I’ll help,” Lord Matsumae said readily. Now Sano noticed a strange quality about his breathing. It rasped softly, like a Roman’s gentle snores. “What can I do?”
Sano knew he’d better proceed carefully. Lord Matsumae and Tekare weren’t the only ones inclined toward violence. Sano was furious at Lord Matsumae for holding Masahiro prisoner and refusing to admit it. Hiding his fury, Sano forced himself to concentrate on the investigation.
“For me to solve this crime, I need to understand Tekare. I’d like a little background information on her. Could you please give me your impressions of her?”
Grief and nostalgia colored Lord Matsumae’s features. “Tekare was like the iris that blooms wild in the far north. So bright, so beautiful, so fresh. So untouched by the evils of society that pollute Japanese women. A truly gentle, innocent spirit. She was rare even among Ezo women. The others are eager to take whatever they can from Japanese men. They always want food, clothes, jewels, and gold in exchange for their favors. But not Tekare. She never asked me for anything. When I gave her presents, I practically had to force her to accept them. She always said that all she wanted was me. All she asked was the privilege of making me happy.”
Lord Matsumae leaned forward, his eyes moist with tears and gratitude. “Can you imagine how wonderful it was, to have a woman want me for myself, not for my status or for what I could give her? To know that she loved me as much as I loved her?”
Sano could imagine that Tekare had used the same ploy as did the most popular courtesans in Edo. They pretended to fall in love with their clients. They made a show of refusing gifts, which made the men heap even more upon them. They were consummate actresses. And so might Tekare have been, if she’d hidden from Lord Matsumae a mercenary side she’d revealed to the gold merchant and her other lovers.
“I understand that she was special to you,” Sano said tactfully.
He also understood that he now had four very different portraits of the murder victim. Shamaness, social climber, innocent spirit, vindictive ghost-which was the real Tekare? Lord Matsumae seemed to believe his version of her. Love could be spectacularly blind. If that were the case for Lord Matsumae, there went his potential as a suspect.
“Did anyone have any quarrels with Tekare?” Sano said.
“Not that I know of,” Lord Matsumae said. “And she had none with me. We agreed on everything.”
During his time as a detective, Sano had learned that there was a point at which one couldn’t break a witness or suspect without provocation, threats, or physical force. He knew he’d reached that point with Lord Matsumae. Push too hard, and risk another violent episode.
“That’s all I have to ask you for now,” Sano said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Gizaemon and Detective Marume appeared in the doorway: They’d listened to the whole conversation and heard it ending.
“If there’s anything else you need, just let me know,” Lord Matsumae said.
“There is,” Sano said. “I’d like to look around the castle.” Not only did he want to search for clues and witnesses, he wanted to find out if his son was in the keep, as the Ezo woman had told Reiko, as Sano was desperate to believe.
“Why?” Gizaemon was quick to challenge Sano.
“Standard procedure, I suppose,” Lord Matsumae said. “It’s all right. We’ve nothing to hide.” A shadow moved behind his gaze. “But you’ll confine your exploring to the palace. My uncle will escort you.”
As Sano was led away, he heard Lord Matsumae whisper, “Don’t worry, my beloved, I didn’t tell him any of our secrets.”
Now Sano knew that Lord Matsumae did indeed have something to hide. And he was sure it included Masahiro, imprisoned in the keep, as well as information about the murder.
16
Walking in snowshoes was harder than Hirata had expected. As he plodded along a trail through the forest north of Fukuyama City, he tried to imitate the two barbarians, who moved as easily as across bare, solid ground. But his shoes scooped up and dug into the snow. The old leg injury that hadn’t pained him in years began to ache. He and Detective Marume lagged farther and farther behind the Ezo men, their dogs and sled, and even the Rat, who’d remembered the snowshoeing techniques he’d learned in his youth. Hirata climbed out of a thigh-deep drift, shook snow off his shoes, and paused to rest. Breathing hard, sweaty despite the cold weather, he cursed as he recalled the soldiers’ warning that the Ezo would shake him off and escape.
“If we go back to Fukuyama City without them, the soldiers will laugh at us,” Marume said, panting and doubled over beside Hirata. “Sano-san will be angry because we lost two of his murder suspects. And heaven knows what Lord Matsumae will do.”
“Come on,” Hirata said grimly.
They slogged onward until they caught up with the group. Urahenka spoke, and the Rat translated, “‘What took you so long? You’re slowing us down.”“
Hirata had no chance to retort, because Chieftain Awetok said in clear, fluent Japanese. “Now we are far enough from the city that you can ask me things that you could not before.”