Red Chrysanthemum

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Red Chrysanthemum Page 9

by Laura Joh Rowland


  The shogun gasped in horror. Distress stirred the guards. Lord Matsudaira frowned as though personally insulted. “Did you find out who killed him?”

  “Not yet.” Sano spoke in a firm, authoritative voice, to hide the fact that he was hedging while he thought what to say.

  “Are there any suspects?”

  “Everyone in the Mori household is a suspect.” But Sano knew he couldn’t keep Reiko’s involvement a secret forever, and better that Lord Matsudaira heard about it from him than anyone else. “There has been an attempt to incriminate my wife.” Lord Matsudaira stared and the shogun gaped. “She—”

  “She was found in Lord Mori’s bedchamber, naked and covered in blood, alone with his dead, mutilated body.” Into the room strode Police Commissioner Hoshina, tall and muscular and proud. His handsome face shone with malevolent pleasure. With him was his chief retainer, Captain Torai, a slighter, lesser version of himself. Both grinned at Sano, relishing his misfortune.

  Alarm assailed Sano because his enemy had obviously heard the news from his own spies and rushed here to capitalize on it. Sano recalled the meeting with General Isogai and the elders, and their warning about Hoshina’s new campaign to destroy him.

  “Is this true?” Lord Matsudaira said, glaring at Sano. “Did your wife kill Lord Mori?”

  “It’s true that she was found at the scene of the crime,” Sano said, “but she didn’t do it. I can explain—”

  “What’s to explain?” Hoshina said. “Lady Reiko was caught literally red-handed.”

  “It’s obvious she’s the murderer,” said Captain Torai.

  Furious, Sano turned on them. “I didn’t give you permission to join this meeting. Leave,” he ordered. Things were bad enough for Reiko without their accusations.

  But Lord Matsudaira motioned them to stay. They knelt, smirking at Sano. Lord Matsudaira fixed on him a gaze replete with menace. “The evidence against your wife is very incriminating.”

  “It doesn’t prove she’s guilty,” Sano objected. “Please hear me out, and you’ll agree that she was framed.”

  “ ‘Framed,” “ Hoshina scoffed. ”Is mat what she said? That’s the excuse all criminals offer in their own defense.“ He addressed the shogun: ”With Your Excellency’s permission, I shall arrest Lady Reiko.“

  Panic beset Sano. Events were moving too fast in the wrong direction. “I forbid you!”

  “He’s trying to protect his wife from the law, at the expense of justice,” Captain Torai told Lord Matsudaira.

  “You’re trying to persecute Lady Reiko for your own purposes!” Hirata burst out.

  “I haven’t heard one reason why she shouldn’t be convicted of murder this day,” Lord Matsudaira challenged Sano.

  Even as Sano opened his mouth to answer, the shogun piped up nervously, “I can’t believe that Lady Reiko, could, ahh, do such a terrible thing. She’s such a nice, pretty young woman.”

  He emphasized the word “pretty,” as though Reiko’s looks were a better proof of her innocence than her character was. But Sano welcomed any support during a battle. “Thank you, Your Excellency.” Hoshina scowled. “May I tell my wife’s side of the story?”

  “Permission granted,” the shogun said with a daring look at Lord Matsudaira. He sometimes chafed at his cousin’s domination and welcomed opportunities to resist it.

  Lord Matsudaira also scowled. “Very well, Chamberlain Sano. I’m listening.”

  Sano gave a fast, abridged, but persuasive recital of Reiko’s tale. When he told about the boy Lord Mori had strangled, the shogun exclaimed in horror. Lord Matsudaira shook his head. Even Hoshina and Torai seemed disturbed. But after Sano described how Reiko had fallen unconscious and awakened to find herself beside Lord Mori’s corpse, Hoshina burst out laughing. Torai echoed him.

  “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard!” Hoshina said. “If your wife expected you to believe it, Honorable Chamberlain, she must think you’re an utter fool.”

  “I thought the part about spying on Lord Mori was far-fetched.” Torai sneered. “No woman does things like that. Not even the unconventional Lady Reiko.”

  The shogun giggled. Sano’s heart dropped because the shogun swayed with whatever wind was blowing the hardest at the moment.

  “Lady Reiko’s story sounds dubious at the very least,” Lord Matsudaira said. “Especially the part about Lord Mori stealing and killing children. I’ve known him for years. He’s always seemed a most honorable, decent man.”

  “There’s never been the slightest rumor of a stain on his character,” Hoshina rushed to add. “And he was a strong, loyal subject of the regime.” His tone reminded Lord Matsudaira that Lord Mori had helped bring Lord Matsudaira to power.

  “He may not have been so loyal,” Sano said, determined to counter Lord Matsudaira’s bias in favor of the murder victim.

  “I had him under investigation for plotting a coup,” Hirata said, reminding Lord Matsudaira that he himself had suspected Lord Mori of treachery and ordered the investigation.

  Lord Matsudaira glanced at the shogun. His expression warned Sano and Hirata that they were verging on a forbidden topic. The shogun was unaware that his cousin had seized control of Japan and the fealty of many of his subjects. No one had told him, and since he rarely left the palace, he saw little of what went on around him. Lord Matsudaira didn’t want him to know because he still had enough power to put Lord Matsudaira to death for treason. But no one dared disobey Lord Matsudaira’s orders against enlightening the shogun. A conspiracy of silence pervaded Edo Castle.

  “Lord Mori was suspected of treason?” The shogun gaped. “Well, ahh, that changes the picture, does it not? If he was a traitor, then, ahh, whoever killed him did us a favor.”

  “If he was,” Lord Matsudaira said. “Did your investigation turn up anything against him, Hirata-san?”

  Hirata described the shipment of weapons. The shogun nodded. Lord Matsudaira kept his expression neutral, but Sano could feel him weighing the evidence, his regard for Lord Mori sinking, and his fear that if Lord Mori had turned on him, then so might his other allies.

  But the police commissioner jeered at Hirata: “You thought you saw weapons delivered to Lord Mori’s estate.” He spread his hands. “Where are they?”

  When Hirata hesitated, Captain Torai said scornfully, “It’s obvious mat Chamberlain Sano and Sosakan Hirata have fabricated lies to ruin Lord Mori’s reputation, the better to make his murder seem unimportant and excuse Lady Reiko.”

  Both the shogun and Lord Matsudaira nodded. Growing more anxious as he lost ground to his enemies, Sano said, “Believe them at your own risk, Honorable Lord Matsudaira. In the interest of security, you should wait until the murder has been fully investigated before you decide my wife is guilty and there’s no threat to the regime.”

  “The murder has been investigated fully enough,” Hoshina said. “In fact, Chamberlain Sano has found a witness who completely discredited Lady Reiko’s statement.” He shot Sano a victorious glance. “It’s Lord Mori’s wife.”

  Sano tried to conceal his dismay that Hoshina had found out about Lady Mori and her damning story. “Lady Mori is a suspect herself.”

  “What did she say?” Lord Matsudaira said.

  “She lied,” Hirata said.

  Lord Matsudaira gritted his teeth with impatience. “I asked you what Lady Mori said. Answer me.”

  “She said that my wife was involved with Lord Mori and killed him during a quarrel,” Sano said reluctantly.

  “That does it.” Lord Matsudaira smacked his hands down on the floor. The shogun started. “Police Commissioner Hoshina, you may arrest Lady Reiko. Skip the trial. Send her straight to the execution ground.”

  “It’s my pleasure to serve you, Honorable Lord Matsudaira,” Hoshina said. He and Captain Torai rose; they grinned at Sano.

  “Wait,” Sano said, desperate. “If you execute my wife, you’ll be putting an innocent woman to death and letting Lord Mori’s killer go free!
” Horror flooded him because he felt Reiko slipping away from him as if she were drowning in the sea and he were losing his grasp on her hand.

  “Better just admit you’ve lost,” Hoshina said.

  “We’ll let you say good-bye to Lady Reiko before she’s dead,” Torai said.

  “Be thankful that I haven’t chosen to punish you for your wife’s crime,” Lord Matsudaira threatened Sano.

  The shogun cleared his throat loudly. Everyone looked at him. “Aren’t you all, ahh, forgetting something?” He glowered at their puzzled faces. “I am in charge.” Frightened as well as elated by his own boldness, he thumped his fist against his thin, concave chest, then addressed Lord Matsudaira: “I decide what happens, not you.”

  “Of course, Honorable Cousin.” Lord Matsudaira feigned meekness, but his eyes glinted with ire because the shogun had pulled rank on him. “What do you wish to be done?”

  The shogun raised his finger, and inspiration lit his face. Sano exchanged glances with Hirata as his hopes rode on the shogun’s whim. “We should consult the witness who was present during the murder.”

  Sano saw his bewilderment reflected on the other men’s faces. Hoshina said, “What witness?”

  Their lord regarded them as if he thought them idiots. “Why, ahh, the victim, of course. Lord Mori.”

  Stunned silence filled the room for a moment. “Pardon me, Honorable Cousin,” Lord Matsudaira said cautiously, “but how can we consult a dead man?”

  The shogun preened, enjoying his own ingenuity. “Through a medium. I happen to have one here in the palace. She is most talented at communicating with the spirit world.”

  Sano was astounded even though he knew the shogun was interested in supernatural phenomena and kept fortune-tellers, magicians, and cosmographers at court. The shogun had never before proposed using a medium in a murder investigation. And Sano had doubts that communication with the dead was possible even though many other folk besides the shogun believed it was.

  He read the same skepticism on Lord Matsudaira’s face. “Honorable Cousin,” Lord Matsudaira began to protest.

  The shogun raised a hand. “No objections! I have made my decision.” He spoke to a guard: “Bring Lady Nyogo here.”

  As the guard hurried to obey, Hirata gave Sano a worried look. Sano shrugged, indicating that whatever happened now could hardly make things worse. Police Commissioner Hoshina and Captain Torai sank to their knees. Torai was watching Hoshina; he clearly wondered how this new development would affect them. Hoshina seemed suspended between hope, expectancy, and apprehension. Lord Matsudaira looked thoroughly vexed.

  “Nyogo is a lady-in-waiting in the Large Interior,” the shogun explained. The Large Interior was the section of the palace where his wife, mother, and concubines lived.

  The guard soon returned, bringing Lady Nyogo. Sano had expected a sinister old crone such as many mystics were, but Nyogo couldn’t have been more than fourteen years of age. She had a round, smiling, innocent face. Her pink and orange floral kimono clothed a plump, childish body; she walked with a bouncy, skipping gait. Her long braid bobbed. She knelt and bowed.

  “Lord Mori has died,” the shogun told her. “We wish you to contact his spirit so that we may, ahh, speak with him. Can you conduct a seance for us?”

  Her smile widened, showing teeth like pearls. “Yes, Your Excellency,” she said in a girlish voice.

  She seemed as happy as if invited to play a favorite game. Although Sano had been prepared to dislike her, he couldn’t help but find her endearing.

  Servants closed the shutters, darkening the room. They placed a table in front of Nyogo and lit candles and incense burners on it. Sano saw Lord Matsudaira mutter to himself, Superstitious rot! The shogun rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. Nyogo bowed her head over her altar. The candle flames illuminated her smooth young face as the incense smoke filled the chamber with potent sweetness. She closed her eyes. Suspense hushed the assembly. Everyone watched Nyogo.

  She uttered a piercing wail. Her head tossed; her body rocked violently. Her eyes opened; they rolled up, showing their whites.

  “She’s going into a trance!” the shogun exclaimed.

  Nyogo rocked, gasped, and moaned. Then she went quiet and limp. Her head lolled. An eerie, droning sound came from her mouth. Spasms twitched her. The exposed whites of her eyes gleamed with unholy radiance. Sano was impressed in spite of his skepticism. The shogun leaned toward Nyogo.

  “Lord Mori, are you there?” he called. “Speak to us.”

  “Greetings, Your Excellency.” The deep, masculine voice issued from Nyogo’s mouth. Her lips didn’t move; her throat seemed merely a channel for the words. “I am at your command in death as I was during my life.”

  Sano, Hirata, Lord Matsudaira, and Captain Torai stared in astonishment. The shogun nodded, satisfied. Hoshina sat motionless with that peculiar expression on his face.

  “We wish to know who, ahh, murdered you,” the shogun said. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  9

  The Dead Man’s Tale

  GENROKU YEAR 11, MONTH 5 (JUNE 1698)

  Lord Mori sat in his office with his secretary, dictating letters while enjoying the bright, peaceful day. A servant came to the door and said, “Excuse me, but you have a visitor. It’s an envoy from Chamberlain Sano.”

  Anxiety beset Lord Mori. He was timid by nature, always nervous around people he didn’t know, and what could the chamberlain want with him? He hastened to the reception chamber. There sat a beautiful woman dressed in luxuriant, multicolored silk robes. Lord Mori halted in surprise. He’d not expected the envoy to be female. This was most unusual, most discomfiting.

  “Who—what—” he stammered.

  The woman bowed and smiled. “I am Lady Reiko, wife of Chamberlain Sano.”

  Lord Mori’s surprise increased. Since when did any official send his wife as an envoy?

  Reiko seemed pleased by his reaction. She also seemed completely sure of herself, perfectly at ease. Lord Mori realized he’d better pay her some respect or offend Chamberlain Sano. He advanced cautiously into the room.

  “I am honored by your visit,” he said. “May I ask why you’ve come?”

  “My husband and I thought I should make your acquaintance,” Lady Reiko said. She gazed intently at Lord Mori. He felt that she could see his timidity, his shameful lack of samurai courage. He grew all the more nervous, but dimples wreathed her sly smile. “Please be seated.” She gestured toward the space opposite her on the floor, as if this were her domain and he a supplicant.

  Lord Mori meekly obeyed. Another, stronger man would have put this brazen woman in her place no matter that she was the chamberlain’s wife, but he couldn’t find the words. He merely shrank under her continued scrutiny. Her beauty seemed more malevolent than attractive.

  “How are things in your provinces?” she asked.

  “Very well.” Lord Mori thought she resembled a snake with brilliant, jewel-like scales, weaving through the grass in search of someone to strike.

  “Oh?” She raised her painted eyebrows. “I hear that you have been having financial troubles.”

  Lord Mori was too shocked to respond, but not only because finances weren’t discussed in polite company and no well-bred woman would mention them. How did Lady Reiko know about his troubles? What was she up to?

  “Your father squandered much of your family fortune,” Reiko continued. “You inherited many big debts. To make matters worse, the harvest in your provinces has been poor for the past few years. You’ve been forced to borrow money and incur more debts to cover your expenses and pay your retainers.”

  She must have learned these shameful facts from her husband’s spies. Lord Mori recalled that she was known to involve herself in Chamberlain Sano’s business, but why was she here? Surely not just to embarrass him?

  “I prefer not to talk about these things.” Lord Mori meant to sound severe and silence Reiko, but his voice quavered.

&
nbsp; Mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Well, perhaps you’d rather talk about how things are improving for you lately. Your alliance with Lord Matsudaira has certainly helped. I hear he’s reduced the amount of tribute that you pay the Tokugawa regime, and he’s granted you loans from his personal treasury. You’ve become quite the man of status and privilege.”

  “Lord Matsudaira has been most generous,” Lord Mori said, hot with shame that he didn’t have the nerve to throw Lady Reiko out of his house. Helpless anger roiled inside him because she’d called to mind some less than admirable facts about him.

  He belonged to a clan of proud, ancient heritage but unimpressive accomplishment. His ancestors had survived by allying with men who were stronger, braver, and more ambitious. Their one talent was the ability to pick the winner in a given conflict. Lord Mori had bet on Lord Matsudaira and contributed troops, arms, and money during the war, and Lord Matsudaira had won. Now Lord Mori’s future depended on Lord Matsudaira.

 

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