The Concubine's Tattoo

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “The Lion travels in disguise,” Sano reminded her. “Few people know what he really looks like. That’s one way he’s managed to evade capture for so long.”

  His other methods included bribing police to ignore his activities, killing his enemies, and keeping on the move. Attempts by Sano’s detective corps to infiltrate the gang had failed, and their informants had refused to talk. Hence, Reiko had used her special communication network, composed of wives, relatives, servants, and other women associated with powerful samurai clans. They collected gossip, spread news and rumors. From them Reiko learned that the Lion had a mistress—a widow who ran the Good Fortune Noodle Restaurant. During a month’s surveillance, Sano’s detectives had observed that men of different descriptions regularly visited after the restaurant closed. Guessing that these were all the Lion in various disguises, Sano had planned an ambush and taken over this shop as his headquarters.

  Now he said to Reiko, “If that old man is the Lion and we catch him, we’ll have you to thank.”

  Sano felt excitement and anxiety surging through him. While he yearned to end the Lion’s reign of crime, he was worried about Reiko. He wished she were safe at home, though what possible harm could come to her from merely watching through the window?

  Up a curve in the road, another watcher peered out a different window, this one in a half-timbered mansion with a tile roof and high earthen wall. From his position in the lamplit second-floor parlor, Chamberlain Yanagisawa had a perfect view of Tobacco Lane, the Good Fortune Noodle Restaurant, and the shop where Sano and his comrades hid. Over silk robes he wore an armor tunic; a golden-horned helmet framed his handsome face. Inhaling on a long silver pipe, he savored the rise of anticipation. He turned to his chief retainer, Aisu, who squatted on the tatami floor nearby.

  “Are you sure they’re in there?” Yanagisawa asked.

  “Oh, yes, Honorable Chamberlain.” A slender man several years older than Yanagisawa’s own age of thirty-three, Aisu had tensely coiled grace and hooded eyes that gave him a deceptive look of perpetual drowsiness. His voice was a sibilant drawl. “I climbed on the roof and saw Sano, his wife, and Hirata through the skylight. Six detectives are in the shop below. The side window is open.” Aisu grinned. “Oh, yes, it’s the perfect setup. A brilliant plan, Honorable Chamberlain.”

  “Any sign of the Lion yet?”

  Aisu shook his head.

  “Is everything ready?” Yanagisawa asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Aisu patted the lumpy cloth sack that lay on a table beside him.

  “Timing is critical,” Yanagisawa reminded him. “Have you given the men their orders?”

  “Oh, yes. Everyone’s in place.”

  “How fortunate that I managed to learn about Sano’s plans in time to prepare.” A smug smile curved Yanagisawa’s mouth.

  Today he’d received a message from his spy in Sano’s household, describing the ambush. Yanagisawa had quickly organized his own scheme, commandeering the mansion of a rich tobacco merchant for a lookout station. If he succeeded, he would soon see his rival destroyed. The misfortunes of the past would end.

  Since his youth, Yanagisawa had been the shogun’s lover, influencing the weak Tokugawa Tsunayoshi and winning his post as second-in-command. As the ruler of Japan in all but name, Yanagisawa had virtually absolute power. Then Sano, the upstart scholar, martial arts teacher, son of a ronin—masterless samurai—and former police commander, had been promoted to the position of Sōsakan-sama. The shogun had developed a high regard for Sano, who now commanded a staff of one hundred detectives and had gained influence over the bakufu, Japan’s military government. Yanagisawa faced opposition from Sano whenever he proposed policies to Tokugawa Tsunayoshi and the Council of Elders; they sometimes took Sano’s advice instead of his own. Sano’s daring exploits overshadowed Yanagisawa’s own importance, making him crave the adventure of detective work. And those exploits often meant serious trouble for him.

  A case of double murder had led to Sano’s discovery of a plot against the Tokugawa regime; he’d saved the shogun’s life and won a post at Edo Castle. During his investigation of the Bundori Murders, when a madman had terrorized Edo with a series of grisly killings, Yanagisawa had been taken hostage by the murderer and nearly killed. Last year he’d exiled Sano to Nagasaki, but Sano had returned a hero. The final outrage had come when Sano, while investigating the poisoning of the shogun’s concubine, had caused the death of Yanagisawa’s lover.

  Now Yanagisawa couldn’t stand the sight of Sano and Reiko’s happiness together. Tonight he would be rid of them. There’d be no more competition for the shogun’s favor; no more humiliation. And as a bonus, he would steal Sano’s reputation as a great detective.

  A movement in the street outside caught Yanagisawa’s eye. The foreshortened figure of an old man with a cane passed beneath the window. Yanagisawa beckoned Aisu, who glided swiftly to his side. They watched as the old man approached the noodle restaurant.

  “Go!” Yanagisawa ordered.

  “Oh, yes, Honorable Chamberlain.” Aisu snatched up the cloth bundle and vanished without a sound.

  Reiko said, “Look! He’s stopping.”

  The old man beat his cane on the restaurant’s door. It opened, and he disappeared inside.

  “Let’s go,” Sano said to Hirata, then told Reiko, “We’ll be back soon.”

  Her face shone with excitement. “I’m going with you!” She pushed up her sleeve, revealing the dagger strapped to her arm.

  Consternation halted Sano. The problem with their partnership was that Reiko always wanted to do more than he could allow; to go places where a respectable woman could not be seen, risking social censure and her own life for the sake of their work. Always, Sano’s desire for her assistance vied with his need to protect her. Sympathizing with Reiko’s desire for adventure didn’t ease his fear that their unusual marriage would provoke scandal and disgrace.

  “I can’t let you,” he said. “You promised you would just watch if I let you come.”

  Reiko began to protest, then subsided in unhappy resignation: Promises between them were sacred, and she wouldn’t break her word.

  Sano and Hirata bounded down the staircase. In the dim shop, six detectives, waiting by the tobacco bins, sprang to attention. “The Lion is inside,” Sano said. “We’ll surround the place, and—”

  From above the ceiling came a clatter, as though something had hit the floor upstairs, then the whump of a muffled explosion, followed by a scream.

  “What was that?” Hirata said.

  “Reiko!” Sano’s heart seized. He turned to run back upstairs.

  A fist-sized object flew in through the window. It landed in front of Sano and erupted in a cloud of smoke. Sulfurous fumes engulfed the shop. Coughs spasmed Sano’s chest; his eyes burned. Through the dense haze, he heard the men coughing and thrashing around. Someone yelled, “A bomb!”

  “This way out,” Hirata cried.

  Sano heard Reiko calling from the attic, but he couldn’t even see the stairway. “Reiko!” he yelled. “Don’t come down here. Go to the window!”

  He rushed outside and saw Reiko climbing down a wooden pillar from the balcony. More smoke billowed out the window and skylight. Gasping and wheezing, Sano reached up and grabbed Reiko, who fell into his arms. Coughs wracked her body. From a nearby firewatch tower came the clang of a bell. Carrying his wife, Sano staggered down the street, where the air was fresh and a crowd had gathered. The fire brigade, dressed in leather tunics and helmets, arrived with buckets of water.

  “Don’t go in there!” Sano shouted. “Poison fumes!”

  The crowd exclaimed. The fire brigade broke down the shop doors and hurled water inside. Sano and Reiko collapsed together on the ground. The detectives joined them, while Hirata stumbled over to the Good Fortune. He went inside, then returned. “There’s no one in there. The Lion has escaped.”

  Sano cursed under his breath, then turned to Reiko. “Are you all right?”

&nbs
p; Sudden shouts and pounding hoofbeats scattered the crowd.

  “I’m fine.” Coughing and retching, Reiko pointed. “Look!”

  Up the street ran the man who’d entered the Good Fortune, no longer stooped and white-haired but upright and bald. The torn kimono flapped open, exposing muscular arms, chest, and legs blue with tattoos—the mark of a gangster. Mounted troops wearing the Tokugawa triple hollyhock crest galloped after him. His face, with the broad nose and snarling mouth that had earned him his nickname, was wild with terror.

  “It’s the Lion!” Hirata exclaimed.

  Sano stared as more soldiers charged from the opposite direction. “Where did they come from?”

  The leader, clad in armor, slashed out with his lance. It knocked the Lion flat, just a short distance from Sano. Instantly soldiers surrounded the Lion. Leaping off their horses, they seized him and tied his wrists.

  “You’re under arrest,” the leader shouted.

  Sano recognized his voice at once. Shock jolted him. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa!”

  The chamberlain dismounted. Removing his helmet, he triumphantly surveyed the scene. Then his gaze fell upon Sano and Reiko. Dismay erased his smile. He stalked away, calling to his troops: “Take my prisoner to Edo Jail!”