The Concubine's Tattoo

by Laura Joh Rowland

  He also remembered prostrating himself on the ground as the local daimyo passed by. Lord Kuroda and his retainers rode splendidly caparisoned horses. Their faces were plump from the food produced by the peasants’ labor. They beat anyone who failed to meet the crop quota. How Ryuko had hated them! And how he’d envied their wealth and power. He wanted to be like them, instead of a poor peasant boy.

  The desire grew stronger during Ryuko’s early years as a priest. At Zojo—home temple of the Tokugawa clan—he had plenty of opportunity to observe the splendor that money could buy. A devout Buddhist, Ryuko desired the spiritual enlightenment that would release him from such worldly concerns. He prayed ever longer; he toiled even harder at charitable work. Using his natural flair for politics, he rose in the temple hierarchy. Yet still he craved wealth and power.

  Then he’d met Lady Keisho-in.

  Now Ryuko told his patroness, “And this will be a reception room for His Excellency when he visits the kennels.”

  “Marvelous!” Lady Keisho-in let out a cackle of glee, whirling in girlish excitement. “Surely my son’s benevolence will convince fortune to bring him an heir. My dearest Ryuko, you were so wise to recommend building the kennels!”

  When, after too many years, Tsunayoshi was still without a son, he’d grown concerned for the Tokugawa succession. Neither he nor his advisers welcomed the idea of designating a relative as the next dictator and ceding power to a different branch of the clan. Hence, Lady Keisho-in had turned to Ryuko for help. Through prayer and meditation, he’d found a mystical solution to the problem. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi must earn the right to an heir by atoning for the sins of his ancestors via some act of generosity. Since he’d been born in the year of the dog, what better gesture than to bestow his patronage upon dogs?

  On Ryuko’s advice, Lady Keisho-in had persuaded Tokugawa Tsunayoshi to issue the Dog Protection Edicts, which furthered Ryuko’s goal of promoting animal welfare according to Buddhist tradition. When this didn’t produce the shogun’s desired results, Ryuko had proposed a more drastic action: the establishment of the kennels. Funds were levied from various daimyo; Edo’s best carpenters would build the structure. Ryuko was certain that the successful birth of a Tokugawa heir would follow, strengthening Keisho-in’s influence with Tsunayoshi—and thus his own. But that time lay in the future. Now Ryuko wanted to make sure they lived to see it.

  “Come and rest, my lady.” He seated his patroness on a tree stump, far from their waiting escorts. “We can watch the work on the site and enjoy a bit of conversation before we return to Edo Castle.”

  With a puff of relief, Lady Keisho-in settled herself. “Ah, that feels good. You are so thoughtful, my dearest. Now, what shall we talk about?”

  Ryuko studied her familiar features, breathed her familiar smell of perfume, tobacco smoke, and old age. They’d been together so long. He’d memorized her needs, her habits, her preferences—all the information essential to keeping her favor. Yet how well did he really know the most powerful woman in Japan? With a nostalgia sharpened by the present danger, he recalled the day they’d met.

  Tokugawa Tsuñayoshi had just succeeded to the rank of shogun, and Lady Keisho-in had come to Zojo Temple to pray for a long, prosperous reign for her son. She’d caught sight of Ryuko among the priests gathered to pay homage to their lord’s mother. Her ugly old face acquired an expression of bemused delight, a reaction that Ryuko often elicited from female worshippers who admired handsome priests. Halting her procession to the temple hall, she’d made his acquaintance. She’d taken a strong fancy to him, as she did to other young men who satisfied her need for companionship and sex. He had become her private spiritual leader, moving from Zojo Temple to chambers in Edo Castle so that she could have his counsel whenever required. Lady Keisho-in lavished gifts upon him and his religious order. The temple complex grew in magnificence; its residents prospered. Keisho-in slavishly followed Ryuko’s advice, often influencing the shogun to do the same. Money poured out of the Tokugawa treasury, funding subsidiary temples and charitable work. To Ryuko, a relationship with an unattractive woman twenty years his senior seemed a small price to pay.

  He neither loved nor desired his patroness, but encouraged her infatuation with him. Forsaking his monastic life, he became her lover. He tolerated her moods and demands; he flattered her vanity. Under his contempt for her silliness, he felt a poignant sense of comradeship with Lady Keisho-in. They were both commoners who had risen to unexpected heights. And he was truly grateful to her for giving him everything he needed: wealth and power; spiritual fulfillment and the chance to do good.

  In this mutually satisfactory manner they’d spent a decade together. Ryuko had expected the arrangement to last indefinitely. Keisho-in, healthy for an old woman, seemed in no danger of dying anytime soon. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi was young enough to serve many more years as shogun—and probably would, if an heir didn’t appear. But after the murder of Lady Harume, the future seemed uncertain. Ryuko knew how fast fortunes could rise or fall in the bakufu; sometimes, a mere rumor could destroy a life. Sōsakan Sano’s inquiry posed a dire threat to Lady Keisho-in. And the threat had tentacles, like an octopus, which could reach out and strangle everyone within her close circle-including Ryuko.

  “My sources tell me that Sōsakan Sano is doing an extremely thorough job investigating Lady Harume’s murder,” Ryuko said, easing into his subject of concern. He must be very careful about handling Lady Keisho-in. “Detectives are all over the Large Interior. Hirata has leads on the source of the poison. Lieutenant Kushida is under arrest, but not yet charged with murder. It appears that Sano isn’t seeking an easy way out. Instead he’s living up to his reputation for pursuing the truth, regardless of the consequences.”

  Ryuko paused. Then, because Keisho-in rarely responded to subtle hints, he added a clearer warning: “One might wish to exercise caution under these circumstances.”

  “Oh, yes, Sano is a fine detective,” Lady Keisho-in said, missing the point. “And I like young Hirata.” She giggled. “I think he likes me, too.”

  She could be so frivolous, even at a time like this! Hiding his impatience, Ryuko said, “My lady, Sano’s investigation may turn up information that is detrimental to…any number of persons. No one is safe from scrutiny.”

  “You say things in a way that I can’t understand,” Keisho-in complained. “Whatever are you talking about? Who’s in danger?”

  Her denseness forced blunt speech. “You, my lady,” Ryuko said reluctantly.

  “Me?” Keisho-in’s rheumy eyes widened in surprise. Evidently she’d given no thought to how the murder investigation might affect her. Then she smiled, reaching up to pat Ryuko’s arm. “I appreciate your concern, dearest, but I have nothing to fear from Sano or anyone else.”

  Ryuko studied her guileless face with confusion. He’d thought himself adept at reading her after all these years, but now he couldn’t tell whether she spoke the truth. “Your relationship with Lady Harume was …shall we say …less than innocent,” Ryuko reminded Keisho-in.

  She let out a merry guffaw that turned into a fit of coughing, and Ryuko had to pound her back before she could continue. “Oh, my dearest, you are such a prude! What can it matter that Harume and I sometimes enjoyed a little bed sport? Surely no one could think it has anything to do with her murder!”

  Sōsakan Sano might consider it relevant, if he found out about them. Gossip spread like fire in the Large Interior, and Ryuko feared that someone might let slip a careless word to Sano’s detectives.

  “There’s nothing to worry about, dearest,” Keisho-in said.

  Did she mean she’d fixed things so well that Sano would never learn anything that could hurt her? Ryuko didn’t trust his patroness to have managed this: Usually she depended on him to handle sensitive business for her. He longed to ask Lady Keisho-in a few straight questions about Harume, yet the cautious politician in him didn’t really want to hear the answers. If Sōsakan Sano accused Lady Keisho-in of murder
, then Ryuko’s only defense against a conspiracy charge was a lack of compromising knowledge. So he confined himself to addressing the issue of mutual self-preservation.

  “You allowed Sōsakan Sano access to the Large Interior without consulting me,” Ryuko said. “A bit unwise, perhaps. I recommend taking steps to block his inquiries.”

  With a grimace of annoyance, Keisho-in waved away the suggestion. She had occasional contrary moods; unfortunately, this was one of them. “Stop talking in riddles, my dearest. Let Sano inquire all he likes. What difference does it make to me?” She puffed out her chest in self-righteous dignity. “I’m no murderer. I’m innocent.”

  Really? thought Ryuko. Keisho-in had a history of falling madly in love with younger men and women—like Harume. Inevitably they failed to satisfy her vast need for adoration. When the affairs ended, Lady Keisho-in would fly into a hysterical fury. Usually Ryuko could cajole her out of it, or a new romantic interest would distract her. But sometimes Keisho-in turned vindictive. Two particular incidents haunted Ryuko.

  One had involved a concubine named Peach; the other, a palace guard. Both had suddenly vanished from Edo Castle after disappointing Lady Keisho-in. Ryuko’s informants had told him that Keisho-in had complained about her lovers to the Tokugawa high military command. However, no one seemed to know where Peach and the guard had gone, or whether they were still alive. Ryuko guessed that Lady Keisho-in had ordered the pair’s murders. If Sano ever learned of this, he would think she’d arranged a similar revenge against Lady Harume. Ryuko had to make her see the danger she courted by abetting Sano’s investigation.

  “Harume spent considerable time in His Excellency’s bedchamber,” Ryuko said. “What if she had become pregnant?”

  Looking puzzled, Lady Keisho-in said, “That’s what my son wanted, and what I wanted, too. Why else would I have urged him to do all this?” She looked around the clearing, where the architects busily conferred and the woodsmen sawed.

  Ryuko could think of another reason why she’d championed the kennels. Showing mercy toward dogs would bring Tokugawa Tsunayoshi good luck, but the shogun must do his part to beget a son. Was Lady Keisho-in encouraging spiritual actions in the hope that he would neglect the physical ones?

  “Let me put it another way.” Pacing the ground, Ryuko mustered his fading patience. “What do you think will happen to you if an heir is born?”

  Lady Keisho-in laughed. “I’ll be the happiest grandmother in the world.” Cradling her arms around an imaginary infant, she made cooing noises.

  Was she as naïve as she seemed? All marriages harbored secrets, and their union, Ryuko realized, was no exception. Forced to speak crudely, he said, “If Lady Harume had borne His Excellency an heir, she would have become his official consort. She would have supplanted you as the highest-ranking woman in Japan.”

  “That would be just a formality.” Lady Keisho-in folded her arms, haughty with annoyance now. “I am Tsunayoshi’s mother. No other woman could ever replace me in his affections. He depends on my counsel. Why, he couldn’t lead the country without me!”

  “Your son does not enjoy the responsibilities of being shogun,” Ryuko said, avoiding the issue of whether or not Tokugawa Tsunayoshi led the country at all. “He would rather occupy himself with religion or the theater.” Or boys, Ryuko thought, but did not add. Lady Keisho-in refused to admit her son’s preference for manly love. “With the arrival of an heir, the succession would have been secure. His Excellency might have used this as an excuse to abdicate his position and appoint a council of regents to head the government until the boy came of age.”

  This prediction of the shogun’s behavior was shared by many astute bakufu members, but Lady Keisho-in’s features bunched in a stubborn pout. “Ridiculous! My son is a dedicated leader. He won’t retire until death takes him from this world. And he doesn’t need a council to run the government while he has his mother to advise him. He loves and trusts me.”

  However, Tokugawa Tsunayoshi also trusted Sano; Ryuko had watched the Sōsakan’s influence grow daily. Even a hint of suspicion might jeopardize Keisho-in’s relationship with the shogun, who feared and abhorred violence. If he thought she might be a murderer, he might turn away from her and seek another woman to act as mother-confidant—probably Lady Ichiteru. The devious concubine had regained his favor since Harume’s death, had already borne him two sons, albeit stillborn, and would seize the chance to improve her position.

  And then what would happen to Ryuko?

  “Please, my lady,” he said. “Just suppose there was an heir, and your son did retire. Who would have more influence over the regent council? You, the mother of a past, retired shogun? Or the mother of the future one?”

  Ryuko’s suave voice harshened with agitation, and he bent over Keisho-in, grasping her hands. “If Harume had lived, you might have lost your position as ruler of the Large Interior, your privileges, your power. Sōsakan Sano will realize this eventually, if he hasn’t already. You stand to become his prime murder suspect!”

  Across the clearing, a huge oak crashed to the ground. Its branches swayed and rustled: the death throes of a giant. Peasants began sawing up and hauling away the tree’s corpse. As Lady Keisho-in watched, her face took on a crafty, calculating expression that Ryuko had never seen before. She looked positively intelligent. A chill finger of dismay touched Ryuko. Was she finally becoming aware of her precarious position?

  Or had she known all along?

  Slowly Lady Keisho-in turned to Ryuko. She pulled him to his knees so that their faces were almost touching. All traces of good-natured silliness had disappeared from hers. “Tell me, my dearest,” she said. Her gaze bored into Ryuko. “Are you so concerned about the murder investigation for my sake, or your own? Have you been up to something?”

  The words, spoken on a vapor of breath that stank of tobacco and rotten teeth, wafted over Ryuko. Shock disoriented him. He envisioned battlefields after a war, with the wind carrying the odor of carnage. Despite all his efforts in the cause of charity and spiritual enlightenment, there had been incidents in lus life that illustrated his greed, ambition, and ruthlessness. What if Sano found out? Surely he would suspect Ryuko of murdering Harume on Keisho-in’s behalf in order to protect her and, simultaneously, his own position. Yet even as he imagined himself at the execution ground, the wily politician in Ryuko saw a way to use the situation to his advantage.

  “Yes, my lady,” he said, bowing his head as if in shameful confession. It wasn’t a lie. He’d devised and carried out plots designed to further his interests and Keisho-in’s, with and without her approval. He wondered how much she knew or guessed about him—and how much her poor memory had allowed her to forget about things they’d done together. If he was charged with Lady Harume’s murder, would Keisho-in sacrifice him to save herself? “I’m afraid Sōsakan Sano will discover what I’ve done.”

  To his joy, Keisho-in responded just as Ryuko had hoped. She enfolded him in a suffocating embrace and declared, “I don’t care if you’ve done anything wrong, especially if you did it for me. I love you, and I’ll stand by you.” Ryuko hid a smile against Keisho-in’s breast. Let her believe—or pretend to believe—he’d killed Harume, if that was what it took to secure her complicity. Now they both would be safe from accusations of murder and treason. “As long as I live, no one shall harm a hair on your head!”

  Patting Ryuko’s shaven scalp, Lady Keisho-in giggled at her own joke, then said, “I’m cold, and this tree stump is hurting my bottom. Let’s go back to Edo Castle. When we get there, I’ll fix Sōsakan Sano. Just tell me what to do. You needn’t worry about anything, my dearest.”

  21

  Sano disembarked from the ferry that had transported him across the Sumida River to Fukagawa, birthplace of Lady Harume. Located at the mouth of the river where it emptied into Edo Bay, this suburb stood on former swamps filled in with vast heaps of city garbage and earth excavated during the construction of canals. After the Great Fire, many cit
izens had moved here for a fresh start. However, Fukagawa retained the hazards of its geographic situation. Floods, typhoons, and high tides wrought mass destruction. The area was rightfully considered unlucky. Here Lady Harume had made an inauspicious start on a life that would end with her murder eighteen years later.

  The approach to the town center led Sano past warehouses that smelled of pine timber, sesame oil, and hoshikat a fertilizer made from sardines. Smoke from salt furnaces on the southern tidal flats obscured the view of Edo on the opposite shore. The cold air had a lung-saturating dampness. A busy commercial district lined the main avenue leading to the Tomioka Hachiman Shrine. This contained the Oka Basho, a notorious unlicensed quarter where night-hawk prostitutes operated. Teahouses and inns abounded, as well as Fukagawa’s excellent seafood restaurants.

  Hearing temple bells ring the noon hour, Sano realized he was hungry. He entered the Hirasei, a famous restaurant located just outside the shrine’s torii gate. There he ate mixed sushi with vegetables, rice, and grilled trout. Then he said to the proprietor, “I’m looking for a nighthawk named Blue Apple. Can you tell me where to find her?”

  The proprietor shook his head. “I don’t know of anyone by that name. You might try the teahouses.”

  Sano did, with disappointing results: No one had ever heard of Blue Apple; no one knew Lady Harume, except as the victim of a widely publicized murder. Sano headed toward the Hachiman Shrine. Its great copper-tiled roof rose above the streets like a giant samurai helmet; its high stone walls sheltered the Etai Temple, whose priests kept census records on everyone living in the district. They, if anyone, could direct Sano to Blue Apple.