The Perfumed Sleeve

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “It’s true that Lord Matsudaira poses a major problem to me,” the chamberlain said. “Unless I defeat him, I’ll be ousted from the bakufu and run out of Edo—or put to death.”

  A gasp of horror rose in Lady Yanagisawa. Despite all her eavesdropping, she’d not guessed how bad things were. The idea of her beloved husband gone forever was too terrible to contemplate. Instead, Lady Yanagisawa was determined to change misfortune to triumph for them both.

  “My lord—” The presumptuousness of what she planned to say caused her to hesitate.

  The chamberlain gave her an impatient, quizzical frown.

  She blurted, “My lord, I beg you to let me help you.”

  Surprise arched the chamberlain’s eyebrows. “My troubles concern politics and war. Those are hardly the business of women. What could you do against my enemies?”

  Lady Yanagisawa knew how small, weak, and useless she must appear to him and the whole world of men. She hadn’t the slightest notion of how she might serve his purposes. But an unfamiliar, physical sensation of power flooded her like a magic spell born of her desires and his peril. She rose and stood directly facing the chamberlain. For the first time ever, she looked straight into his eyes.

  “You’d be surprised at what I can do,” she said.

  The chamberlain stared, disconcerted, as if he, too, felt the magic. Then he bestowed upon her a smile so replete with approval and insinuation that a sexual thrill rushed through her. “I may give you a chance to surprise me,” he said.

  Just then, his principal secretary appeared at the door. “Excuse me, Honorable Chamberlain, but here are the latest reports on Lord Matsudaira’s army.”

  The chamberlain flicked his fingers at Lady Yanagisawa, dismissing her. For once she didn’t mind. She hastened from the room, filled with such gleeful anticipation that she ran outside to the cold, wet garden, where she spun around in an exuberant dance.

  She would help her husband defeat Lord Matsudaira and gain supreme, permanent control over the bakufu. His love would be her reward. When he ruled Japan with her by his side, she need never be jealous of Reiko again.

  Late at night, Reiko sat in her chamber, drying her freshly washed hair at the charcoal brazier. Her old nurse, O-sugi, came to the door and said, “Your honorable husband has arrived.”

  “Good.” Reiko eagerly looked forward to hearing news of his investigation and telling him what she’d discovered.

  When Sano didn’t appear at once, she went looking for him. She found him outside the kitchen, a low building near the back of the estate, where cooks prepared the vast quantities of food required to feed everyone in the household. He and two servants stood in the yard that contained a well, outdoor hearths, and cooking paraphernalia. Sano held a lantern, while the servants moved a huge wooden tub.

  “There it is.” Sano pointed to a trapdoor in the ground where the tub had sat. “Seal it up right away.”

  “Yes, master,” chorused the servants.

  Icy wind chilled Reiko as she watched them from the veranda. “What are you doing?” she called to Sano.

  “I’m plugging a hole in our defenses. Anyone who managed to climb the wall could sneak through this trapdoor, into the cellar, and then into the rest of the house.”

  Reiko beheld the trapdoor with surprise. “I never knew it was there.”

  “I only learned about it today,” Sano said.

  “How?” Reiko said.

  “From Lord Matsudaira’s nephew Daiemon. But it’s a long story. Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you.”

  In their chamber, a maid brought them sake, which Reiko heated and poured into cups. They drank, and Sano described the events of his day.

  “So now Daiemon and Chamberlain Yanagisawa are both definitely suspects in the murder,” Reiko said, alarmed by the dangerous turn the investigation had taken. “Whichever you pursue, you’ll be in trouble.”

  Sano nodded. “And it’s looking as though Yanagisawa is the likelier culprit.”

  “You’ve proved that Makino was going to defect and the chamberlain had reason to assassinate him?” Reiko said.

  “Not exactly proved,” Sano said. “I did find the hidden gate that Daiemon claims he used to sneak out of Makino’s estate. That suggests there’s some truth in what he said. And I’ve talked to my informants in the bakufu. They say they’ve heard rumors that Makino and Yanagisawa had a falling-out.”

  “Could the rumors have been spread by the Matsudaira clan to mislead you?”

  “Possibly. That would explain why they’ve surfaced only now, after Daiemon became a suspect and needed corroboration for his story. But I can’t ignore them just because I don’t want to believe them.”

  Coals hissed in the brazier and the wind buffeted the mansion as they contemplated Chamberlain Yanagisawa as a primary suspect. Although Lord Matsudaira was just as ruthless, Reiko would rather have Sano pitted against him, because she feared Yanagisawa more. Yanagisawa, not Lord Matsudaira, had conspired to destroy Sano in the past. If Sano accused Yanagisawa of the murder, their truce would end.

  “The fact that Yanagisawa has been implicated doesn’t clear the members of Makino’s household,” said Reiko. “According to what you’ve just told me, they had the most obvious opportunity to kill Makino. And their stories about that night leave plenty of room for doubt. Can you apply more force to get the facts from them?”

  “I will,” Sano said, “but too much force can produce false confessions. I want the truth about this crime.”

  Reiko carefully chose her next words. “If one of them should prove to be guilty, that would solve many problems.”

  Sano nodded as he understood her hint that he could benefit by fixing the blame for the murder within Makino’s household. “Even though Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira would each prefer that I pronounce the other guilty, each would be less angry at me if I persecuted somebody else than if I went after him. But I’ll not risk punishing an innocent person for the murder.” His tone was adamant. “Not even to serve my own interests.”

  “Nor would I want you to,” said Reiko. “But will you at least continue investigating the suspects in Makino’s own household?”

  “Of course,” Sano said. “While they’re in his funeral procession tomorrow, I can search their pasts for clues to their guilt or innocence.”

  “I’ve learned some things that might help you with that,” Reiko said. “Today I called on some friends. They say that Makino’s wife was once an attendant at Asakusa Jinja Shrine. And his concubine once lived with a merchant named Rakuami.”

  Sano raised his eyebrows, signifying interest and approval. “That gives me a place to start investigating the women.”

  “I just wish I’d been able to learn what went on in Makino’s house that might have led up to the murder,” Reiko said. “But the folk there keep to themselves. Nobody could tell me anything about the relations between Makino and the people closest to him.”

  “Nor could my informants tell me,” Sano said. “Only the people in his estate were privy to their own business with Makino. And since they’re all suspects or potential suspects, I can’t rely on anything they say.”

  Sano compressed his lips in frustration. “I had considered planting one of my detectives among the servants as a spy. But the residents aren’t likely to trust a strange man who suddenly appears while they’re under suspicion of murder.”

  A sudden idea occurred to Reiko. Her heartbeat quickened with excitement, daring, and trepidation. “What if you had a spy who was practically invisible?”

  “If I did, I could solve the mystery in no time.” Sano laughed, taking her suggestion as a joke.

  “I’m serious,” Reiko said. “You do have such a spy.”

  Sano regarded her with puzzlement. “Who is it you’re talking about?”

  “Myself,” said Reiko.

  “You?” Surprise inflected Sano’s voice.

  “Yes. I could disguise myself as a ladies’ maid and wait on the wom
en.” Animated by enthusiasm, Reiko ignored the shocked look Sano gave her. “Maids are hardly noticed by their employers. People say and do the most private things in front of them. If you could arrange a post for me in Makino’s house, I could spy to my heart’s content and no one would suspect me of working for you. No one would even take a second look at me.”

  “I notice the maids,” Sano protested. “A samurai is always aware of who’s near him.”

  “Which of our maids brought us our sake?” Reiko challenged.

  Sano pondered. Confusion clouded his eyes.

  “It was O-aki,” Reiko said, vindicated. “You don’t remember because you didn’t notice her.”

  “You did,” Sano pointed out.

  “I’m different from other people. I have Lady Yanagisawa to thank for that.” Only by closely observing her maids, and weeding out those who showed too much interest in her, could Reiko rid herself of Lady Yanagisawa’s spies.

  “But I never talk about anything confidential when the maids are around,” Sano said.

  “That’s because your life has accustomed you to being discreet,” Reiko said. “But I think Makino’s wife and concubine are probably just as careless as most people.”

  “All right, you win that argument,” Sano conceded reluctantly. “But for an official like me to disguise his wife and send her out spying—” A gesture of his hand negated the very idea.

  Reiko gave Sano a glance that reminded him how often they did things that weren’t done by other people. “I could call on the wife and concubine, and ask them outright questions, but even a fool would know better than to admit anything to the wife of the sosakan-sama. And if one of those women killed Makino, she was smart enough to alter the scene of his death and hide what happened to him.”

  “If someone in that house is the murderer, then it’s too dangerous for you to go spying there,” Sano said. “Someone who dared kill a man as important as Makino would certainly kill you to avoid exposure if you were to get caught spying.”

  “I would be careful not to get caught,” Reiko insisted. “Besides, I’m trained in the martial arts. Makino’s wife and concubine aren’t. I can handle those women.”

  “Don’t forget that two of the suspects in the house are men,” Sano said. “One of them could be the killer.”

  “I’ve fought men before, and won,” Reiko reminded him.

  A sudden memory flared in her mind. For an instant she was on the mountain highway, fighting the Dragon King’s men. The abduction had taught her the limitations of her strength. Now Reiko felt a bad spell encroaching. This time, the panic spawned by her ordeal bred new fear of what could happen to her in Makino’s house. She’d survived one encounter with a killer, but she might not be so lucky again.

  She gulped sake to quell the panic and hoped Sano wouldn’t notice her agitation. She’d hidden the spells from him because she didn’t want him to worry about her. And if he knew she had them, he would not only never let her spy, he might never let her help him again.

  Sano was watching her hands tremble around the sake cup. “Why are you shaking?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Reiko said in a tone that denied any problems and implied that he was imagining them.

  To her relief, the spell faded; yet Sano eyed her with wary concern. He said, “I won’t allow you to risk yourself. The investigation is my responsibility, not yours.”

  Although Reiko dreaded to leave home, and expose herself to terrors possibly worse than in the Dragon King’s palace, spying on Makino’s household now became a test she needed to pass. “It’s my duty to help you,” she said.

  Sano shook his head regretfully and clasped her hands in his. “I almost lost you to the Dragon King. I can’t bear to chance losing you again.”

  “But I believe that the danger to our whole family is greater if I don’t go.” Reiko withdrew her hands from Sano’s restraining grasp. “If you can’t prove that somebody in Makino’s house is guilty, you’ll have to go after Chamberlain Yanagisawa or Lord Matsudaira. Neither one wants to be punished for killing the shogun’s dear friend. Either one would kill you to prevent you from naming him as the murderer. Maybe you don’t mind sacrificing yourself for the sake of honor, but what about Masahiro and me?”

  Sano’s features clouded at the thought of his wife a widow, his son fatherless, at the mercy of a cruel world. But he said, “You might not be able to find evidence against Makino’s wife or concubine even if you do spy on them.”

  Reiko nodded, acknowledging his logic, yet her resolve held firm. “What if you can’t solve the mystery? The shogun will execute you, as well as all your family and retainers.” A samurai who disobeyed orders from the shogun was considered a criminal, and the law decreed that the kin and close associates of a criminal share his punishment.

  “Let’s not assume I’m going to fail,” Sano said, clearly affronted by the suggestion. “I’ve always succeeded in the past. I’ll succeed this time—without involving you.”

  “I might actually be safer in Makino’s estate than at home,” Reiko said.

  “How can that be?” Sano said, perplexed.

  “Lady Yanagisawa is still after me,” Reiko said. “I need a place to hide from her while I think what to do about her.”

  “In Senior Elder Makino’s house?” Sano gave Reiko a look of sheer disbelief. “You’re seeking haven from one danger in a place filled with other dangers?”

  “Lady Yanagisawa and her spies might wonder where I’d gone, but they’d never think to look for me there,” Reiko said. “I’d be safe from her, while helping you.”

  Sano lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. His chest heaved as he blew out his breath. Reiko could feel him weighing the threats posed by Lady Yanagisawa, the factions, the murder suspects, and the investigation. She waited anxiously while he debated the arguments she’d presented.

  He said, “I can’t just take you to Makino’s estate and order his people to hire you as a maid. They would guess why I wanted you there, if not who you are.”

  Reiko smiled. The fact that Sano was raising practical concerns meant he’d decided in favor of her plan. Apprehension filled her because the prospect of leaving home, in search of a killer, was now a terrifying reality.

  “We’ll think of a way around the problem,” she said.

  “I can’t send you into that estate by yourself,” Sano hedged.

  “There are ways around that, too.”

  Sano remained silent for a long, suspenseful moment. At last he nodded. Feeling as much doomed as victorious, Reiko put her arms around Sano; he held her close.

  “I’ll go tomorrow,” Reiko said. “I promise I’ll discover things that will make you glad you agreed.”

  “I promise that no harm will come to you,” Sano said.

  With her face pressed against his chest, neither could see the other’s expression.

  The morning of Senior Elder Makino’s funeral dawned clear, bright, and cold. Through the Edo Castle official district moved the procession led by black-clad samurai bearing white lanterns on poles. Wind ruffled the gold paper lotuses carried by more samurai. Priests followed, tinkling bells, beating drums, scattering rose petals on the ground, waving incense burners whose drifting smoke scented the wintry air. Tamura rode on horseback, carrying the funeral tablet, ahead of Makino’s coffin. More priests, chanting sutras, preceded three palanquins that transported Makino’s wife, concubine, and actor.

  Sano stood outside his gate with Hirata and some of his detectives. They held the reins of their horses as they watched the procession pass, destined for the riverside cremation ground. Hirata said, “I see that Okitsu has recovered.”

  He sounded glad that his interrogation had done her no permanent harm. Sano nodded, preoccupied with worries that stemmed from the plans that he and Reiko had devised last night.

  Last in the funeral procession came the household attendants, the men wearing black, the women in white. A few samurai officials trail
ed them.

  “Not much of a crowd to escort Makino on his last journey,” said Detective Marume.

  “Everybody’s afraid to leave the castle,” said Detective Fukida. “They don’t want to miss any political developments.”

  In the wake of the procession arrived another, which consisted of mounted samurai—Ibe and Otani, each accompanied by a team of comrades to help him observe Sano at work.

  “What is the plan for today?” Ibe asked Sano.

  “We’re going to look into the histories of the suspects from Senior Elder Makino’s house,” Sano said. “I’ll take the chief retainer and the actor. Hirata will take the wife and the concubine.”

  Hirata flashed a glance that thanked Sano for giving him an opportunity to make up for yesterday’s fiasco, but Ibe and Otani burst into protests. “We should be hunting for more evidence against Lord Matsudaira’s nephew Daiemon instead of those other people,” Ibe said.

  “I say we should look for more clues that Chamberlain Yanagisawa is the murderer,” Otani hastened to object.

  Sano lost all patience with his watchdogs. He was regretting that he’d let Reiko convince him to let her spy on Makino’s household. Tense and edgy, he couldn’t tolerate any more trouble from Otani or Ibe.

  “We’ll do as I say,” Sano curtly told them.

  He didn’t mention that he would investigate Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Daiemon when necessary. He also forbore to tell them of Reiko’s plan. Only Hirata and a few of his most trusted detectives knew he’d called in a favor and arranged her employment at Makino’s estate.

  Now he said to Otani and Ibe, “If you want to see anything to report to your masters, come with us.”

  He and five detectives mounted their horses and started up the street. Hirata and the other five rode in the opposite direction. Otani and Ibe exchanged indignant glances. Then Ibe sent half his men to follow Hirata, while he and the others hurried to catch up with Sano. Otani also divided his party, then he chased after Hirata.