“Catch me if you can!” Reiko cried.
They didn’t notice Lady Mori. She stood staring in horror that her husband had brought his mistress into their home. Lord Mori caught Reiko. They tumbled to the ground. He tore her robes open. She squealed. He flung off his loincloth, mounted her, and took her there in the grass. Lady Mori watched, fraught with jealousy and despair.
Night after night Lord Mori brought Reiko to the estate. Lady Mori spied on them through his bedchamber window. A sick compulsion made her want to see them together, to wallow in torment. If they knew she was there, they didn’t care; they were so absorbed in wild, depraved antics. Once they fought each other naked with swords before they coupled. Another time Reiko whipped Lord Mori until he went berserk with fury and took her from behind, like wolves mating. Lady Mori wondered if this was what her husband had craved all the years of their marriage, if he’d forsaken her because Reiko could give him the excitement that she herself could not. Yet she nursed the hope that he would tire of Reiko, that carnal passion couldn’t permanently eclipse longtime love.
Many days passed in this terrible manner. A warm, wet summer night found Lady Mori kneeling on the veranda, once again spying through the window. Her husband and Reiko had just finished making love. They lay naked, her back against him, his arms around her. The rain streamed from the eaves, splashed on the veranda, and wet Lady Mori’s robes. The lamp shone on Lord Mori and Reiko, cozy inside. Suddenly Lady Mori noticed that Reiko’s stomach looked swollen. Dismay stirred, cold and ominous as a snake rousing from hibernation, through Lady Mori.
Lord Mori caressed Reiko’s belly. “Our child is getting big,” he said in a proud, pleased voice.
Lady Mori went sick with shock. Reiko was pregnant, by her husband! But how could the pregnancy be so far advanced, when Reiko and Lord Mori had met such a short time ago? How could the baby be his?
“Well, it’s been growing almost five months,” Reiko said. “You must have planted your seed the first time you bedded me.”
A second, worse shock hit Lady Mori. Their affair had been going on longer than she’d thought. They’d been lovers before that night on the river, when they’d pretended to be new acquaintances.
“Does Chamberlain Sano know?” Lord Mori asked Reiko.
A mischievous smile twisted her lips. “Oh, he knows I’m pregnant. He’s very pleased. He minks it’s his baby.” She giggled. “He also thinks my son, Masahiro, is his. My honorable husband doesn’t know the truth, which is mat if I’d waited for him to make me pregnant instead of having love affairs, I’d be barren because he’s not capable of fathering a child.”
Reiko turned to face Lord Mori. “But you are.” Her voice turned husky and seductive; her hand fondled his genitals.
Flattered, he laughed. “Yes, I am virile, with you.”
Lady Mori had longed to bear him a child and believed that the fact that she’d been unable was his fault, that he was sterile. After all, she had Enju. But he’d impregnated Reiko. That proved he was potent and Lady Mori was to blame for failing to conceive, for years of regret. Now Reiko would bear him the child that Lady Mori couldn’t. Lady Mori wanted to scream, fall on the ground, and claw herself to bloody shreds.
“I think the baby is a boy,” Reiko said.
“Good,” said Lord Mori. “I’ve always wanted a son.”
New revelation horrified Lady Mori. She’d believed he thought of Enju as his son. Now it was obvious that he cared more for his unborn flesh and blood than for the stepson who’d loved him these sixteen years. Reiko’s child was a betrayal of Enju as well as Lady Mori herself.
Lord Mori pulled Reiko on top of him. She sat upright with his body between her knees, his hands on her middle. He said, “Imagine, a son of mine growing up inside Edo Castle. If Chamberlain Sano manages to hold onto his power long enough, my son will become a top official in the regime.”
“What an honor for you.” Reiko laughed. “And what a fine joke on my husband!”
Lady Mori was forced to acknowledge that her perfect marriage had been an illusion. Yet she still loved her husband; she still wanted him back. She could no longer tolerate the pain of his infidelity, and she couldn’t just wait passively for his affair to run its course. She must take action.
Her first thought was to tell Chamberlain Sano about the affair between Lord Mori and Reiko. Surely Chamberlain Sano would put a stop to the affair and punish his adulterous wife. But he would also punish Lord Mori, strip him of his fief, or even put him to death. Lady Mori devised a better plan.
The next day, she walked into Lord Mori’s office, where he was poring over account books. Trembling with nerves and fright, she said, “I—I have something to tell you.”
“Very well,” he said grudgingly. “Be quick about it.”
“You must stop this affair with Lady Reiko,” she burst out. Tears welled in her eyes. “You must honor your vow to be a faithful husband to me.”
He gazed at her in contempt and scorn. “I will not. I’m in love with Reiko. I don’t care about you. And how dare you tell me what to do?”
“If you don’t give her up, I’ll tell my brother how badly you’re treating me.” Lady Mori’s brother was the daimyo of a fief near Lord Mori’s. He and she had been very fond of each other since childhood.
He’d arranged her marriage to Lord Mori, uniting their clans, sealing a treaty of peace and mutual support between them, but he would take personally any offense to her. He would retaliate against the offender, and no treaty would stand in his way.
Lord Mori blenched. “You wouldn’t tell him.”
“Do right by me, or I will,” Lady Mori said, emboldened by the fear in his eyes. “And my brother will declare war on you. His army will invade your provinces. He’ll have your head as a battle trophy.”
Staring at her with amazement, he shook his head. “You would instigate a war to separate me from Reiko? You’re mad!”
“Make your choice,” Lady Mori said.
“This is just a foolish woman’s bluff. No matter how much your brother cares about you, he’s too smart to risk everything he has to avenge you!”
“We shall see.” Lady Mori walked toward the door.
Before she reached it, Lord Mori called, “Wait.”
Lady Mori turned. Her husband sat behind his desk, shrunken by cowardice. “All right,” he said with bitter resentment. “I will end the affair.”
Lady Mori experienced a sad triumph. “You’ll never see Lady Reiko again? You’ll tell her it’s over?”
He expelled his breath. “Yes.” Heartache etched his face. “I’ll tell her.”
“Tonight,” Lady Mori specified.
When night came, Lady Mori was stationed at her spy-post outside her husband’s bedchamber. Storms had beset Edo all day; faint thunder heralded another. Smoke from a fire shrouded Lady Mori as she knelt on the veranda beneath the window. Inside the room, Lord Mori and Reiko sat drinking sake together.
“My, but you’re quiet,” Reiko said. “What’s the matter?” Glum and haggard, Lord Mori wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I can’t see you anymore.” His voice quavered. “This is the last time.”
“What are you talking about?” Reiko demanded. Disbelief marked her beautiful features. “We’re in love. You said you can’t live without me. How can you just cast me off?”
Satisfaction filled Lady Mori. Let Reiko feel the pain of rejection. Let her suffer instead.
“I don’t want to,” Lord Mori hastened to assure her. “I love you more than my life. To lose you will break my heart. But my wife is jealous. She told me that unless I give you up, her clan will declare war on mine.”
“Idle threats!” Reiko scoffed. “You don’t believe her?”
Lord Mori hung his head. “I can’t take the chance that she can make good on them.”
Reiko surged to her feet in outrage. “You mean you won’t stand up to her. You think I’m not worth the danger!”
“That’s not true!” Lo
rd Mori rose and embraced her. “You’re worth the world to me!”
She pushed him away. “Then go tell your wife that you won’t bow to her wishes. Tell her that if she’s stupid enough to start a war, you’ll fight it, for the sake of our love.”
His posture sagged. “I can’t,” he mumbled.
Reiko’s eyes flashed sparks of indignation. “Then it’s over between us? Even though I’m carrying your child?”
He nodded. Lady Mori had never seen him look so miserable.
“Oh, no, it isn’t,” Reiko fumed. “No man has ever rejected me. I won’t let you go.” She sounded like a spoiled, petulant girl on the verge of a tantrum. “I’ll show you that you’re mine until I decide we’re finished!”
She yanked the pins from her hair, which tumbled to her waist. She untied her sash.
“No!” Lord Mori was breathless with alarm.
Reiko dropped her robes to the floor and stood naked. Her pregnant belly protruded round and ripe beneath her breasts.
“Don’t. I beg you,” Lord Mori whispered. Desire engorged his face.
“You want me.” Reiko’s smile was tantalizing. “You know you do.” She snatched at his clothes, undressing him.
“Stop!” Lord Mori tried to push her away, but she tore open his kimono; she tugged down his trousers and pulled off his loincloth. His manhood sprang erect.
Reiko caught hold of it. “This belongs to me.” She fondled him while he moaned. “I never give up anything that’s mine.”
Lord Mori seized Reiko’s hands in an attempt to wrench them off him. “Leave me alone,” he ordered.
Yet his voice and his actions lacked force. Reiko knelt. She put her mouth on him. As she licked and teased, he collapsed to the floor. She laughed with triumph as she positioned herself on top of him. “You can’t resist me. You’ll do what I want.”
She spread her legs, took him inside her, and moved up and down. “We’ll be together always. Never mind your wife.”
Although Lord Mori said, “No! Stop. Please!” he heaved and thrust at her. Lady Mori wept because her husband was so enthralled by Reiko that not even the threat of war could break her hold on him.
“You’ll be the ruin of me!” he cried. His hand fumbled under the bed near them; he pulled out the sword that he kept there in case an intruder should attack him in his sleep. He brandished it at Reiko. “Go away, or I’ll kill you!”
Reiko stayed. She moved faster, her body pumping, her breasts bouncing. Her expression turned murderous. She grabbed the sword from Lord Mori and held it to his throat. “If you leave me, I’ll kill you!” she shouted. “If I can’t have you, no one will!”
Lord Mori recoiled in fright, but he uttered wild bellows of passion. Lady Mori knew her plan had failed because Reiko wouldn’t cooperate and he was too weak to defy her. Armies could overrun his provinces, and he would lie with Reiko again and again until they slaughtered him. Lady Mori had lost him forever. Sobbing, she fled to her room, where she drank wine until her grief faded into stupor. She slept until morning, when her maid awoke her and told her that her husband was dead.
6
“You’re lying! My wife and Lord Mori were never lovers!” Sano had forced himself to hear Lady Mori’s tale until the end, but he could no longer hold back his violent denials. “The child she’s carrying isn’t his. And neither is our son!”
He didn’t believe a word she’d said. This was slander of the most outrageous kind. But his inner voice whispered that he must objectively consider each witness’s statement even if it incriminated his wife.
“I apologize for giving you offense, but I have told you the truth,” Lady Mori said sadly. “I swear on my honor.”
“Your honor is worth nothing in this case,” Sano retorted, for here at last was another suspect besides Reiko. “According to your story, you were at your husband’s private chambers last night.”
Lady Mori visibly braced herself against him. “Yes.”
“You saw my wife on the veranda, spying through the window on Lord Mori.”
“No. I was the one spying,” Lady Mori said, nervous but insistent. “She was inside, with him, just as I described.”
Sano countered her with Reiko’s version of events: “You and my wife were friends. That night you invited her to dinner. You had a party.”
Frosty politeness stiffened Lady Mori’s features. “There was no party. And she was not my friend, she was my husband’s mistress. It was he who invited her here.”
Sano speculated on what might have happened that Reiko had been unaware of. “You suspected that she had an ulterior motive for befriending you. When she left the party, you followed her. You watched her watching your husband. Did you think she was spying on him for me, for political reasons?”
Lady Mori shook her head. “I watched her seduce him. I heard her threaten to kill him.”
“Maybe she had too much to drink at your party.” Sano didn’t know how much forethought had gone into framing Reiko, but he was acting on the assumption that she had been framed, and Lady Mori was looking to be the culprit. “You stabbed and castrated your husband while he was asleep. You arranged Lady Reiko to look as if she’d done it.”
“No! That’s not how it was!” Lady Mori cried in horror. “I loved my husband. I would never have hurt him. And I never touched your wife. She murdered him.”
Sano lost his temper because even though her story was ludicrous, many people might believe it. Some would welcome a chance to hurt him by persecuting Reiko. “Don’t lie to me!” he shouted. “I want to know what really happened.”
He seized Lady Mori, yanked her to her feet, and grasped her shoulders. She whimpered in protest. Her attendants gasped in horror at seeing their mistress treated as a common criminal. Hirata moved to restrain Sano.
“Honorable Chamberlain,” he warned.
Sano ordinarily didn’t believe in using force on suspects because it too often produced false confessions and he disliked abusing his power. He hated to intimidate a helpless woman. But he couldn’t let Lady Mori spread her slander about his wife. Not only could it doom Reiko, but it could destroy him. Sano remembered his talk with General Isogai and the two elders. The suspicion that someone connected to him had murdered one of Lord Matsudaira’s chief allies was trouble of the kind they’d warned him to avoid.
“Tell me the truth!” he demanded, shaking Lady Mori.
Her head snapped back and forth; she sobbed in terror. But she cried, “I did!”
She seemed to believe her own lies. That would make them sound convincing to anyone she told. Sano had to make her recant. “You killed your husband. You framed my wife. Confess!”
“No! Please don’t hurt me!”
Anger consumed Sano. He hated Lady Mori for trying to hurt Reiko. He was furious at Reiko for putting him and herself in this disastrous situation. Lady Mori was a convenient target, and he drew back his fist to strike her.
Hirata caught his arm. “Don’t!”
Her attendants shrieked. Marume and Fukida pulled Sano away from Lady Mori. She dissolved to the floor in a fit of tears. The women surrounded her, comforting her. Sano shook off his men. He breathed hard, appalled by his own behavior. Less than an hour into this investigation, and he’d lost control. After so many murder cases, he should be able to discipline himself. But his wife hadn’t been the primary suspect in those other cases. He’d not had to prove her innocence while other suspects heaped guilt upon her.
An angry male voice demanded, “What have you done to my mother?”
Sano turned and saw a samurai at the door. He was tall and lithe, in his mid-twenties, dressed in a cloak damp with rain, his two swords at his waist. His face was strikingly handsome, with sensitive features shadowed by consternation. Lady Mori rose, ran to him, and wept against his chest. He focused his dark, brooding eyes on Sano.
“Honorable Chamberlain. May I ask what’s going on?”
“You must be Enju,” said Sano.
“Y
es.” Lord Mori’s adopted son waited in silence for Sano to answer his question. Despite his mother’s description of the lively, young flirt on the pleasure boat, he was evidently a person of few words. Long, thick eyelashes veiled his gaze.
“Your father has been murdered,” Sano said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“Where have you been?”
“On business in Osaka. I just arrived home.”
Lady Mori cried, “The chamberlain thinks I did it!”
Enju frowned at Sano. “That’s not what Akera-san told me. He says your wife killed my father.”
“She did! Please make him understand that I’m innocent,” Lady Mori said, clinging to Enju.
“On what grounds do you accuse my mother?” Enju asked.
“She had the opportunity to murder your father and frame my wife,” Sano said.
“Excuse me, but have you given her a chance to tell her own version of events?” A current of hostility ran beneath Enju’s calm voice.
“Yes indeed.” Sano felt his temper rising again. “She has made a ridiculous claim that my wife was Lord Mori’s mistress and killed him during a lover’s quarrel.” Sano briefly explained.
“There you have it, then.”
Sano noted that Enju had remarkable assurance for so young a man addressing a high official. He seemed undisturbed by Lord Mori’s death, and although he acted willing to blame Reiko, he hadn’t actually claimed that his mother was innocent. This struck Sano as odd.
“How do you know what happened last night?” Sano asked. “By your own admission, you weren’t here.”
Calculation hooded Enju’s expression. “I saw my father cavorting with your wife often enough. It was no secret.” To anyone but you, said his tone. He shrugged. “Their affair and my mother’s attempt to stop it obviously drove Lady Reiko to murder.”
It sounded to Sano as if the young man had decided to confirm Lady Mori’s damning story about Reiko for some reason other than that he believed it. But Enju was the kind of cool, self-possessed witness who would be hard to shake. Sano knew that mother and son might convince too many people that Reiko was guilty. Yet Enju’s behavior was suspicious, and he represented another chance for Sano to exonerate her.
Sano Ichiro 11 Red Chrysanthemum (2006) Page 6