Sano Ichiro 11 Red Chrysanthemum (2006)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  Reiko’s laughter echoed strangely in his ears. Her image wavered before him. “I put poison in your cup,” she said in a voice that sounded remote, distorted into an eerie drone. As he gasped and clutched his throat, she said, “But it won’t kill you. I’ll do the honors myself.”

  She rose and glided toward him. No! Leave me alone! Lord Mori tried to cry but couldn’t. He staggered backward into his bedchamber. He collapsed with a thud that shook the floor. Reiko stood over him.

  Help! His lips formed the soundless word.

  Reiko grabbed his feet and dragged him onto his bed. He tried to resist, but his limbs were paralyzed. He felt the poison spreading a noxious lethargy through him. She untied his sash and opened his robe. His mind was the only part of him that remained alert, his eyes the only part he could move. Wide with terror, they tracked Reiko as she undressed herself. She flung her garments into a corner. She stood naked except for a dagger strapped to her arm.

  “I don’t want to get blood on my clothes,” she said.

  She drew the dagger and plunged it into his abdomen. Horrendous pain stabbed him. He uttered a muffled squeal. Blood spewed from the wound, gurgled in his throat, splashed Reiko. She laughed at his suffering while she stabbed him again and again. Her beautiful, crazed face filled his vision as he swooned. She seized his genitals in her fist and lowered the blade to them.

  Wild, helpless outrage thrashed inside Lord Mori. “You won’t get away with this,” he managed to whisper.

  “Oh, yes, I will.” Her voice echoed and intertwined with the throbbing of his wounds. “I’m married to Chamberlain Sano. He’s invincible. No one can touch him. Or me.”

  The blade slashed.

  10

  A horrendous scream burst from the medium. Everyone in the shogun’s audience chamber flinched. Lady Nyogo’s childish face contorted as though from the pain Lord Mori had felt when the knife cut him. Her body jerked in convulsions; her head tossed. The exposed whites of her eyes bulged. The scream propelled saliva from her mouth. Sano started to interrupt, as he had many times during the seance, to protest the outrageous lies she’d told about Reiko and himself. But the shogun waved a hand, silencing Sano yet again.

  “Oh, spirit of Lord Mori,” the shogun said, “what happened next?”

  Lady Nyogo twitched, groaned, and choked. Police Commissioner Hoshina and Captain Torai watched her, and Sano, with undisguised glee. Hirata looked as beset by apprehension as Sano felt. Lord Matsudaira fixed an ireful, ominous gaze on them. The medium’s convulsions diminished; she sagged.

  “I felt my heart pumping the blood from me.” The deep, masculine voice was now weak, sorrowful. “I felt my life-force waning. The world dissolved into blackness before my eyes.” She breathed slow, labored sips of air. “And then I died.”

  “What did Lady Reiko do?” the shogun asked eagerly.

  “I didn’t see.” The voice faded. “My spirit drifted off into the cosmos. I can tell you no more.”

  “She’s, ahh, coming out of her trance,” the shogun said.

  Nyogo’s eyes closed; her face relaxed. She stirred, blinked, and stretched, as if awakening from a nap. Her innocent, puzzled gaze surveyed the men staring at her. “What happened?” She seemed to have forgotten. “Did I say anything?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Lord Matsudaira said grimly.

  “You did very well,” the shogun told her. “You may go now.”

  As she rose, Sano said, “Wait just a moment.” Even though the seance had been impressive, he didn’t believe that Lord Mori’s spirit had spoken through her. He wasn’t about to let her leave until he’d exposed her as a fraud.

  Nyogo hesitated; she looked to the shogun.

  Police Commissioner Hoshina said quickly, “Your Excellency, we’re finished with the girl. We need to discuss the information she’s given us. Let her go.”

  Sano doubted that Hoshina thought the medium was any more genuine than he did. But Hoshina had a vested interest in having everyone else believe her.

  “Your Excellency, that seance was a hoax,” Sano declared. “None of what Nyogo said happened. That wasn’t the spirit of Lord Mori we heard. It was her pretending to be him.”

  “No, you are mistaken,” the shogun said. “She’s a genuine medium. I have, ahh, communicated with my ancestors through her on many an occasion.” Stubbornness hardened his weak features. “I believe that what she said is the absolute truth. Shame on you for trying to discredit her.”

  Sano’s heart sank because his protest had backfired and he’d angered the shogun, which he couldn’t afford to do. Hoshina gleamed with malicious satisfaction.

  The shogun said to Lady Nyogo, “You’re dismissed.” As the door closed behind her, he announced, “Well, ahh, now we know how Lord Mori died and who killed him.”

  Even while Sano opened his mouth to defend himself and Reiko against the medium’s ridiculous accusations, and Hoshina made ready to counter him, the shogun said, “But I don’t quite understand why.” He turned to Lord Matsudaira. “What was all that business about a war? Why would anyone plot to overthrow you? Why did Lord Mori think you rule Japan?”

  Danger thickened the air. Nobody moved. Sano thought the shogun was at long last about to learn what was going on. Everyone waited in suspense for Lord Matsudaira’s answer.

  “I don’t know, Honorable Cousin,” Lord Matsudaira said smoothly. “Lord Mori was mistaken about the part of his tale that had to do with me.”

  “Oh.” The shogun nodded as if he preferred this simple explanation to a more complicated, truthful, and disturbing one.

  “Then he could also have been mistaken about the part that had to do with my wife and myself,” Sano pointed out.

  “Perhaps.” Lord Matsudaira fixed a hostile stare on Sano. “But perhaps not.”

  Sano saw that even if Lord Matsudaira suspected the medium was a fraud, he was so insecure that he was ready to distrust Sano.

  “Does this mean that not only did Lady Reiko kill Lord Mori, but Chamberlain Sano is plotting to take over the country from me?” Horror filled the shogun’s expression.

  Before the seance, Sano had thought things couldn’t get worse; yet now he, as well as Reiko, had been implicated in the murder. “No, Your Excellency,” he said with calm, controlled sincerity, “because she didn’t and I’m not.”

  “He’s lying,” Hoshina rushed to say. “He’s ambitious to seize power, and he sent his wife to do his dirty work for him.”

  “Chamberlain Sano has built up a huge personal army during the past few years,” Torai said. “What is it for, if not to overthrow Your Excellency?”

  The shogun looked at Sano with fearful loathing. “I thought you were my friend. How could you betray me like this?”

  “I haven’t,” Sano insisted. “I maintain those troops to keep order and help me run the government for you.”

  Pushed further onto the defensive, he launched a counterattack at Hoshina: “A few moments ago you were all in favor of believing Lady Mori’s story about the murder. Now you’ve jumped onto the medium’s story, which completely contradicts it. How can you justify that?”

  Hoshina grinned. “I like the medium’s story better.”

  That it incriminated Sano certainly benefited Hoshina’s campaign against him. Sano said, “There’s no evidence to support it.”

  “Indeed there is,” Lord Matsudaira said with dark satisfaction. “Her version of Lord Mori fits the man I knew—a timid, weak soul.”

  “You may have known Lord Mori, but you weren’t present at his murder,” Sano reminded him. “You can’t verify the critical part of the medium’s tale.”

  “Well, then,” the shogun said, eager to think that Sano had not betrayed him and he hadn’t been a fool to trust Sano.

  “There’s enough truth to the medium’s tale for us to be concerned about Chamberlain Sano’s loyalty,” Lord Matsudaira said. “We can’t take the chance that he’s planning to overthrow you. The Tokugawa regime has lasted ninety
-five years because it’s always been quick to crush any potential threat. I recommend that you put Chamberlain Sano and his wife to death.”

  “I agree,” Hoshina said.

  Captain Torai nodded. Hirata started to protest in Sano’s defense. The shogun waved his hand, shushing Hirata. “All right,” he said with a sad sigh. “I suppose I, ahh, have no choice. Chamberlain Sano, I hereby sentence you and your wife to death by, ahh, decapitation.” He told the guards, “Take him and Lady Reiko.”

  The guards moved toward Sano. Victorious smiles lit Hoshina’s and Torai’s faces. Lord Matsudaira nodded, content that he’d eliminated a challenger. Hirata leapt to his feet.

  “You can’t do this!” he shouted, placing himself between Sano and the guards. “I won’t let you!”

  “Sit down!” Lord Matsudaira ordered.

  Sano was less afraid of dying than furious at the injustice. The three years he’d labored to keep the Tokugawa regime running, to quench insurrections! The previous years he’d spent risking his life to catch criminals! According to the samurai code of honor, his masters didn’t owe him a thing for his services; but neither did he deserve to be killed on the strength of such baseless accusations. He rose, swelling with indignation, and pushed Hirata aside.

  “All right,” Sano shouted, “take me!” He spread his arms. As the guards seized them, he turned his fury on the shogun, “Execute me if you will. I’m ready to die at your pleasure. But who’ll help you run the government when I’m gone?”

  “Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought of that.” The shogun looked aghast at the prospect of managing national affairs by himself.

  “I will,” Hoshina said, almost salivating because the post of chamberlain was within his reach.

  Sano said to Lord Matsudaira, “Whoever killed Lord Mori is still out there, free as a bird. Can you take the chance that he won’t kill again? What if Lord Mori’s murder was only the first of many? Can you risk another campaign of terror?”

  The spirit of the assassin dubbed the Ghost seemed to poison the atmosphere. Indecision flickered in Lord Matsudaira’s eyes. Fortunately Sano knew Lord Matsudaira and the shogun well enough to play upon their fears. He said, “History could repeat itself. I caught the Ghost for you. When I’m gone, who will catch the next renegade?”

  He swept a scornful gaze over Hoshina. “Certainly not you. Remember that you let the Ghost kill five times before I stopped him.” Hoshina and Torai glared. Sano turned back to Lord Matsudaira and the shogun. “If Lord Mori’s death is part of a plot to seize power, then whoever is responsible will continue it after I’m dead and laugh at you for punishing the wrong man.” He finished with a passion born of his outrage and his will to survive: “Killing me would be a ridiculous waste. You need me alive, to find out the truth about Lord Mori’s murder and protect the regime.”

  There was silence while Hoshina opened his mouth to speak, Lord Matsudaira stopped him with a glance, and the shogun tried to figure out what Sano had said. Sano stood immobilized by the guards. Then Lord Matsudaira heaved a breath of resignation.

  “All right,” he said grudgingly. “Your Excellency, we must spare Chamberlain Sano’s life so that he can help us get to the bottom of this.”

  The shogun nodded, happy to have a decision made for him. Lord Matsudaira gestured for the guards to release Sano. Even as they did, Sano felt less relief than a sense that he stood on a narrow line between freedom and the funeral pyre.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll continue my investigation into the murder,” he said.

  Hoshina burst out, “But Chamberlain Sano and his wife are suspects. He can’t be trusted to conduct a fair investigation!”

  Lord Matsudaira bent a speculative, antagonistic look on Hoshina. “Everyone is a suspect. Come to think of it, I’ve noticed that Chamberlain Sano’s personal army isn’t the only one that’s grown. How many troops do you command now? How ambitious are you?”

  Hoshina subsided in dismay that Lord Matsudaira’s distrust now included him. Captain Torai said anxiously, “But don’t forget that Lady Reiko was caught at the scene. No matter what Chamberlain Sano says, she’s the most likely culprit. We can’t just let her loose as if nothing happened.”

  “I’ll keep her under guard at home,” Sano said quickly.

  “Fine,” the shogun said before Lord Matsudaira could speak. “Go. You’re dismissed.”

  Sano bowed. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”

  “But if you fail to catch the killer—or if I find out that you and your wife are guilty—be assured that I’ll show you no mercy,” Lord Matsudaira warned Sano. He turned to Hirata. “Nor you either.”

  As Sano and Hirata walked out of the room, they passed Hoshina, who muttered, “Good luck, Chamberlain Sano. By the way, I hear that Lady Reiko is pregnant. It’s too bad that when you’re both executed, your new child will die, too.”

  11

  Sano returned to his compound with Hirata and their detectives. It was a warm, cloudy, dreary evening. Smoke from cooking fires hung in a pall over Edo Castle, which reeked of decay and brimming drains. A hush and pressure swelled the air, as if it were gathering breath for another storm. Sano received silent, respectful bows from the sentries stationed at the gates: Bad news traveled fast.

  At the door of the mansion, Reiko greeted him. “What happened?” Her face was pale and wan, strained with anxiety.

  “I’m glad to say that you won’t be arrested for Lord Mori’s murder,” Sano said as he and Hirata removed their shoes and swords in the entryway.

  Reiko looked relieved for an instant before she read on Sano’s face that there was more to the story, and none of it good. “But… ?”

  “Let’s sit down,” Sano said.

  She allowed Sano and Hirata to escort her to the private chambers. Her steps were heavy, burdened by fear as well as her unborn child. As they knelt, Sano thought she’d never looked so small or vulnerable.

  “The shogun has allowed you to stay home, in my custody, instead of going to jail.” Sano wished he could shield her from the worst news, but he couldn’t withhold it from her. “But Lord Matsudaira and Police Commissioner Hoshina are too ready to accept that you killed Lord Mori.”

  “But I didn’t! How can they even think it?” Reiko said, aghast. “Didn’t you tell them what really happened?”

  “I told them what you said, but unfortunately, there are other, conflicting versions of events.”

  As Sano related Lady Mori’s story, Reiko crumpled, her eyes wide with shock, her hands over her mouth. She shook her head in disbelief until he was done. Then she dropped her hands and bunched them into fists.

  “Lady Mori is lying!” Anger burned away her fright. “I never even met Lord Mori.” Her distraught gaze searched Sano’s face. “Surely you don’t believe her instead of me. You can’t think that I… ?”

  “Of course not.” Yet even as Sano spoke, his years as a detective pressured him to remain objective, to postpone judgment until he had more evidence, just as he would during any other case.

  She must have sensed his reservations, for hurt crept across her gaze, like fissures through crystal. “Lady Mori didn’t see me do any of those things with her husband because I didn’t. I told you the truth this morning.” She clasped her hands over her belly and spoke with passionate emphasis: “This is your child, not his.”

  Sano avoided thinking otherwise. He was disturbed that his ingrained habit of doubting the veracity of crime suspects hadn’t gone away just because this one happened to be his wife. Even worse, he sensed Reiko hadn’t told him everything.

  “Can you think of any reason why Lady Mori would incriminate you?” he asked.

  “No. I thought she thought I was her friend.” Sudden inspiration altered Reiko’s expression. “Unless she found out I was investigating her husband for kidnapping and murdering boys. But I don’t see how she could have.”

  “She might have been aware of your private inquiries and assumed that whatever you were doing
would be detrimental to her,” Sano pointed out.

  Reiko nodded unhappily. “For all the good my investigation did, I wish I’d never undertaken it. I’m sorry I did.”

  “So am I,” Sano admitted, “but it’s too late for that.”

  “We have other problems besides Lady Mori.” Hirata sounded as if he were reluctant to bring them up but wanted to spare Sano from delivering more bad news. “She’s not the only witness who testified against you.”

  “And I’m sorry to say that you’re not the only one in trouble now.” Sano described the seance.

  Reiko reacted with a fit of laughter that verged on hysterics. “But that’s an even bigger lie than Lady Mori’s story! You know you never sent me to enlist Lord Mori in a secret campaign to take over the country, or to punish him for foiling you! That medium is a fraud. You’re not plotting against Lord Matsudaira.”

  Yet as she spoke this last sentence, Sano heard a tinge of uncertainty in her voice; he saw a question in her eyes. He realized that now she had suspicions about him. Her experience with detective work had made her just as leery as he. And if he didn’t know how she occupied herself while they were apart, neither did she know what he did.

  “Of course I’m not,” Sano said, appalled that today’s events had shaken their trust in each other.

  “We know you’re loyal to the shogun,” Hirata said.

  But even while he stood up for Sano, doubt showed on his face. Sano was further troubled to see that Hirata didn’t quite trust him now, either. They’d spent so much time going their separate ways that Hirata thought he’d changed for the worse.

  “We’d better believe one another,” Sano said grimly, “because if we don’t, why should anyone else think we’re telling the truth?”