We loved each other with a passion as hot and bountiful as summer
Until anger and hatred poisoned our paradise.
I bruised the soft petals of her skin, I crushed the fragile stem of her body, I drew the sap of her blood,
Until my Wisteria lay dead before me.
Now love is an empty wasteland,
Where harsh winds blow over weeds, rocks, and bones.
My life is a road to the execution ground,
Which I walk in hopeless misery toward my death.”
Hands upturned, body slumped, and his expression tragic, Fujio let his last note fade in the silence. Then a thunder of cheers, applause, and sobbing burst from the women. Fujio bowed. Magistrate Aoki looked irritated by the spectacle.
“I pronounce you guilty of murder and sentence you to death by decapitation,” he said.
As the guards escorted Fujio out of the room, the women followed him in a wailing, sobbing procession.
Hirata dreaded telling Sano that their last two suspects would be dead before they could resume the investigation.
* * *
27
Line up the soldiers, Masahiro-chan,” said Reiko.
Squatting on the nursery floor, the little boy carefully positioned his toy horsemen, archers, and swordsmen as Reiko and his old nurse O-sugi watched.
“That’s very good.” Reiko smiled at her son, but her mind was on Sano. Ever since he’d left for the palace, she’d waited in fearful suspense for him to return from his meeting with the shogun. She longed to know what was happening.
A loud crash from outside startled her and Masahiro and O-sugi. It sounded as if someone had broken down the garden gate. Then Reiko heard muttering and stomping. Puzzled, she rose, opened the door, stepped onto the veranda, and saw Sano in the garden. Head down, fists clenched, he stalked around trees. His feet trampled flowerbeds; his gait was unsteady.
“I can’t stand it,” he muttered. Breath puffed from him in white vapor clouds that rapidly formed and dispersed in the cold, sunlit air. “I can’t stand it anymore!”
Alarmed by his strange behavior, Reiko hurried across the garden to Sano. “What’s happened?” she cried.
Sano whirled toward her, his eyes wild and face contorted by fierce emotion. “Lady Yanagisawa brought the pillow book too late.” He continued prowling the garden while Reiko ran after him. “The shogun had already read it. He now suspects me of murdering Lord Mitsuyoshi!”
“Oh, no.” Reiko stopped, and her hand clasped her throat as horror and comprehension flooded her. She’d never seen Sano this upset because nothing this bad had ever happened before.
“That despicable, scheming, foul Hoshina got hold of the book. He made sure His Excellency saw it.” As Sano poured out a disjointed account of the meeting, his arms lashed out at bushes that got in his way. Reiko realized that he wasn’t just upset, but furious. “Hoshina branded me a traitor! I barely managed to convince the shogun to give me a chance to prove I’m innocent!”
Reiko caught up with Sano and reached for his arm. “Everything will be all right,” she said, trying to soothe him despite her own terror.
But Sano careened backward across the grass, shouting, “For four years I’ve done everything the shogun has asked of me. I’ve shed my blood for honor!” Sano halted and tore open his garments to reveal the scars on his torso. “I know His Excellency owes me nothing in return, and I wish for nothing except for him to see me as the loyal retainer that I am!”
Reiko noticed O-sugi and Masahiro standing on the veranda, gaping as Sano raved. “Go back inside,” she called to them, then urged Sano, “Please calm yourself. Come in the house before you freeze.”
He appeared not to hear her. “You’d think that once—just once—His Excellency could have faith in me and disregard the slander of my enemies,” Sano said, addressing the world at large. “But no—he was quick to believe everything Hoshina said against me. He was ready to condemn me on the spot, without even hearing my side of the story!” Sano gave a bitter laugh. “The only thing that saved me is that I’ve been in these situations enough times to know how to talk my way out of them.”
Although the shogun’s frequent injustices toward Sano pained her, Reiko had never heard him complain. The Black Lotus case had taxed his endurance, and this outrage had finally shattered it. Frightened for her husband, and frightened of him, Reiko crept toward Sano.
“You’ll get out of this one, too,” she said. “The shogun will trust you again.”
“Oh, no. He won’t.” Eyes dark with anger, Sano backed away from her. “Because I’m finished. I’ve had enough violent death, enough dirty politics, enough of trying to please a master who always threatens to kill me.” He pumped his fists at his sides and threw back his head. “I can’t stand any more!”
Reiko gasped. “What will you do?” she said, and heard her voice quaver with fear. If Sano renounced his servitude to the shogun, he would lose his livelihood and home as well as his honor. Her cold hands pressed her cheeks. “Where will we go?”
“I don’t know.” Sano resumed his blind, furious strides around the garden. “I don’t care, as long as it’s far from Edo Castle and everyone here!”
“But you can’t just give up everything,” Reiko said, following him in panic. “Please think about Masahiro’s future.” Sano knew the hardship of growing up the son of a rōnin. Surely he wouldn’t want the same for Masahiro.
“I am thinking of it! I won’t have my son trapped in the same impossible circumstances as I!”
A branch of an azalea bush snagged his sleeve. With a cry of rage, Sano drew his sword and began hacking viciously at the bush. Branches and twigs flew at every touch of his blade, while he shouted curses. Reiko shrank away from him in stark, wide-eyed terror. This wasn’t her husband; it was a demon who’d possessed him.
Suddenly Sano halted. With an anguished groan, he flung away his weapon. He sagged to his knees before the mutilated bush, his temper spent. Shudders convulsed him. Reiko’s terror dissolved. She went to Sano and put her arms around him.
Inside his private chamber, Sano sat wrapped in a quilt, drinking a hot herbal infusion that Reiko had given him to restore his spirits, while she knelt watching anxiously.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
And he was sorry—for saying deplorable things; for succumbing to emotion and displaying weakness; for destroying the bush in a fit of undignified temper; for scaring Reiko. He hadn’t realized how much bad will had built up inside him. Releasing it had given him an exhilarating sense of freedom; but now, although he felt more peaceful than he had in ages, he was deeply ashamed. And nothing had changed. The shogun still suspected him of murdering Lord Mitsuyoshi; Police Commissioner Hoshina was still determined to incriminate him. If he wanted to survive, Sano mustn’t lose his self-control again.
“Do you really mean to give up your post?” Reiko asked, her manner still troubled.
“No.” Sano’s moment of rebellion had passed. He had nowhere to go, and he couldn’t sacrifice his honor or his family’s future. Nor could he sacrifice the vocation that was his path along the Way of the Warrior, the strict code of duty, obedience, and courage by which samurai lived.
“Then what will you do?” Reiko said.
“I’ll find the real killer, prove my innocence, and regain the shogun’s trust.” Determination and a desire for justice rekindled in Sano. “It will be hard, because all the clues have so far led nowhere, but there’s still hope.”
He and Reiko looked up as Hirata appeared in the doorway. “Sumimasen—excuse me, but there’s bad news.” Visibly distraught, Hirata said, “Magistrate Aoki just convicted Fujio of murdering Lady Wisteria, and Momoko as an accomplice. They’ve been taken to the execution ground.”
Reiko murmured in dismay. Sano had anticipated Fujio’s conviction when he’d heard Magistrate Aoki had convened the trial, but Momoko’s took him by surprise.
“Come in. Sit down and explain,” Sano said
to Hirata.
Hirata complied, and Sano marveled that the magistrate had based the verdict on a story he’d invented and couldn’t prove. After Hirata had finished, Sano said, “This seems to be the day for bad news,” then told Hirata what had happened to him.
“All three of our suspects are gone.” Hirata’s face reflected his horror. “That leaves you as the only target for the shogun’s wrath.”
Sano perceived cosmic forces shifting and heard the approaching thunder of doom as the onus settled upon him.
Reiko said, “Maybe Fujio, Momoko, or Treasury Minister Nitta did murder Lord Mitsuyoshi. They’re still good suspects and worth investigating even if they’re no longer alive.”
“We can still look for proof of their guilt,” Hirata said, following up her attempt to look on the bright side.
“And hope that it exists,” Sano said, “because I’m afraid that if we can’t find a witness or some solid evidence that points to someone other than me, the only thing that will convince the shogun I’m innocent is the killer’s confession. Which would be difficult to get from a dead person.”
His companions nodded in glum agreement. Then Hirata spoke hesitantly: “Police Commissioner Hoshina isn’t above falsifying evidence against you. That second pillow book stank of him. He’s sure to invent more ‘proof that you’re a traitor.”
Sano pursed his mouth, aware that Hirata meant they should follow Hoshina’s example and fabricate evidence against Fujio, Momoko, or the treasury minister to save Sano.
Understanding flashed in Reiko’s eyes. “False incrimination is less harmful to a dead person than to a live one,” she said with cautious hope.
That Hirata and Reiko would even consider such dishonesty meant they were at a loss for what else to do. “It’s already occurred to me,” Sano admitted. “But I’m not desperate enough to frame someone who might be innocent, whether the person is alive or dead. Especially since there’s a whole area of inquiry that we haven’t yet explored.”
“What’s left?” Reiko said, puzzled.
“Lord Mitsuyoshi himself,” Sano said.
Hirata frowned. “The shogun forbade you to investigate his background.”
“And I would hate to disobey.” At the very thought of defying his lord, Sano tasted nauseating disgrace. “But Mitsuyoshi represents a direct connection to the killer. Investigating him and his associates should produce new clues. And what are the alternatives?
“We can keep on investigating Fujio, Momoko, and Nitta, and maybe find new evidence on territory we’ve already covered. We can hope for new suspects to emerge, and Wisteria’s lover from Hokkaido to turn up, or Police Commissioner Hoshina to drop dead.” Sano watched Reiko and Hirata shake their heads, doubting the likelihood of these events. “We can pray for a miracle.”
“Investigating Lord Mitsuyoshi does seem the most promising course of action,” Reiko said.
“The shogun will punish you for insubordination,” Hirata reminded Sano.
“I’ll risk that because he’ll put me to death unless I prove my innocence,” Sano said.
“Maybe he’ll forgive you when he realizes you’re not a traitor,” Hirata suggested hopefully.
The odds against Sano outweighed those in his favor. He said, “Maybe we can solve the case without the shogun finding out I’ve disobeyed him—and before Hoshina or our other enemies can cause us any more trouble.”
Lady Yanagisawa stood alone in her chamber, waiting for the only guest she’d ever invited to visit her.
She wrung her cold, perspiring hands and breathed deeply to loosen the knot of anxiety in her stomach. She dreaded receiving a virtual stranger, and the thought of anyone breaching the sanctuary of her room. But the visit must take place here, in the privacy she needed.
Her chief attendant appeared in the doorway. “There’s a girl here to see you.”
Lady Yanagisawa’s heart lurched as she fought the urge to run and hide. “Bring her here,” she said.
Determination fostered courage. She’d already taken a step against Reiko, but the consequences were too uncertain. If Lady Yanagisawa expected to sway the balance of fortune in her favor, she must persevere, despite her regret over her malice toward her friend.
Reiko’s nursemaid O-hana entered the room. She wore a fashionable red kimono printed with a design of snow on black tree branches. Avid curiosity shone through her modest demeanor, belied her hesitant step.
“Welcome,” Lady Yanagisawa murmured. She clasped her trembling hands under her sleeves, intimidated by O-hana’s bold, pretty face.
O-hana knelt and bowed. “It’s a privilege for this insignificant person to be summoned to your presence, Honorable Lady.” Her voice brimmed with eagerness to ingratiate herself with her hostess. “A million thanks for inviting me.”
Lady Yanagisawa had recognized O-hana as a good prospective accomplice the moment she’d laid eyes on the girl at Reiko’s house; yet she needed another chance to judge O-hana’s character. Kneeling opposite her guest, Lady Yanagisawa forced herself to look at O-hana. The girl’s eyes sparkled with a verve and cunning that repelled, yet gratified Lady Yanagisawa.
“May I offer you some refreshment?” Lady Yanagisawa asked.
While they waited for a servant to bring tea and food, O-hana said, “Your chamber is nicer than Lady Reiko’s.” Her sharp gaze took in the gilded murals, the shelf of antique porcelain ware, the lacquer tables, cabinets, and chests inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl. “And this estate is much bigger than the sōsakan-sama’s.”
She liked expensive things and aspired to a higher station than her job as a nursemaid, Lady Yanagisawa noted with satisfaction. Whatever loyalty O-hana had to her mistress would likely matter less to her than the chance for a connection with someone who could give her things that Reiko couldn’t.
“Please enjoy my home during your time here,” Lady Yanagisawa said, her self-confidence rising.
“You’re so kind. Many thanks.” Smiling vividly, O-hana said, “When I got your message, I couldn’t imagine what you could want with me.”
It wasn’t her place to turn the conversation toward the reason for the invitation. O-hana was a little too forward for her own good, but that suited Lady Yanagisawa. Her aims would benefit from the girl’s bold initiative.
“We shall discuss that soon enough,” Lady Yanagisawa said.
The refreshments arrived. Too tense to eat, Lady Yanagisawa watched O-hana consume trout roe served in an orange rind, sashimi, shrimp stuffed with quail eggs, roasted gingko nuts, and sweet cakes. The nursemaid ate very fast, as if the food might be snatched from her before she got enough. Lady Yanagisawa liked O-hana’s insecurity as well as her greed.
“That was delicious,” O-hana said, licking her lips. “How I regret that I, a poor nursemaid, am not in a position to give you something in return.”
Lady Yanagisawa smiled. Her shyness ebbed as she felt herself gaining mastery over the girl. “You could tell me about yourself,” she said.
O-hana’s eyebrows rose in surprise that a lady of high rank should care to know about a servant, but she gladly complied. "My father is a clerk at the Hinokiya Drapery Store. One of the sōsakan-sama’s soldiers is a customer. He befriended my father and arranged for me to be a nurse to Masahiro-chan. I didn’t really want to be a servant because I’d rather get married. But the work isn’t too hard, and I love Edo Castle. Here I get to meet better kinds of men than I can meet at home. I’m hoping I’ll find a husband who can give me a nice house and pretty clothes and I won’t have to earn my own living anymore.”
And if she snared a Tokugawa samurai retainer, she would move far up the social scale. Lady Yanagisawa was glad to find that O-hana wanted something so ordinary and easily granted. “I can arrange that,” Lady Yanagisawa said.
“What?” O-hana said, startled.
“A good match for you, with a Tokugawa samurai.” Lady Yanagisawa’s money and her husband’s position would be enough to entice someone to marry
a pretty commoner.
O-hana looked amazed by her good fortune, yet puzzled. “You would do that for me?” She touched her chest. Then suspicion sharpened her eyes: She wasn’t a fool; she knew favors didn’t come free. “Why?”
“Because there’s something I want you to do for me,” Lady Yanagisawa said. Her heart began to pound with her urgent need to engage O-hana’s cooperation and her fear that she would fail.
“What is it?” Though her voice was cautious, O-hana leaned forward, as if to jump at her heart’s desire.
“First I want you to tell me everything Lady Reiko does. Second… I can’t tell you just yet,” Lady Yanagisawa said.
“You want me to do something to Lady Reiko?” O-hana wilted; her face took on a queasy expression. “I wouldn’t want to hurt her.” The girl was ambitious, but not evil, Lady Yanagisawa realized. “And I don’t want to get in trouble.”
She had an instinct for self-preservation that was stronger than any affection she felt for Reiko. This discovery heartened Lady Yanagisawa. She understood that O-hana might be persuaded if she knew she would escape blame.
“I promise you won’t have to lay a hand on Lady Reiko, and you won’t get in trouble,” Lady Yanagisawa said. “Let us strike a bargain. In the near future I shall give you instructions about what to do. You shall follow them. Afterward, I shall arrange your marriage to a rich, handsome Tokugawa samurai, and you shall want for nothing.”
O-hana hesitated, obviously weighing the reward against the unknown dangers. At last she shook her head in regret. “I can’t decide until I know what you want of me.”
Dismay spread cold tendrils through Lady Yanagisawa, but she had planned for the possibility that O-hana would balk. She said, “Do you see that green box on the shelf of porcelain ware?” O-hana looked, then nodded. “Go see what’s inside.”
O-hana rose, walked to the shelf, and removed the lid from the little box. She took out a square packet of red paper. Her lips parted as she felt the heavy gold coins in the packet.
Sano Ichiro 7 The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria (2002) Page 25