The watchman went inside the palace. Sano and his detectives waited in the quiet, empty street. Beneath a deep violet sky full of stars, a dark mass of leafy treetops rose above the palace walls. Time passed. The moon’s irregular white orb floated over the hills. Sano grew restless as hunger, thirst, and weariness of body and spirit strained his patience. Looking at the tired faces of his men, he knew they felt no better than he. They’d spent all day investigating the fern-leaf coins, to no avail. On the way to the palace he’d told them about Lady Asagao’s confession and arrest. They shared his doubts, and had loyally seconded his decision to seek out the truth before taking Asagao to Edo for trial. They, too, would suffer if he got in trouble, because their livelihood and honor were tied to his.
Finally the watchman returned with two guards bearing lanterns. They led Sano and his men into the imperial compound.
The palace was a different world at night, enfolded in a darkness more dense than in the city outside. The guards’ lanterns spilled weak light against fences and cast long shadows as they preceded Sano, Marume, and Fukida through the kuge quarter. They met no one. Their footsteps echoed forlornly; the only other sounds were the trickle of water in drains and the ever-present insect songs. The warm, humid air breathed a scent of earth, ashes, and the decay of centuries past.
“This place is eerie,” said Marume. His jovial voice sounded hollow in the gloom. “Give me the noise and lights and bustle of Edo Castle any day.”
Fukida looked around nervously. The same uneasiness infected Sano, who imagined hidden watchers peering at him. In his tired, tense state, the notion of three armed samurai afraid of the dark didn’t seem as laughable as it should have. He wished the guards would hurry, but they maintained a slow, decorous pace.
Entering the imperial enclosure, they crossed a lane and passed through an inner gate to a compound of interconnected buildings. They walked a circuitous route around halls, then through a passage and into an open courtyard surrounded by dark buildings and roofed walkways.
Suddenly the guards divided and fled in opposite directions, taking the lights with them, and vanished.
“Hey, what is this?” Marume demanded, his voice raised in surprised protest.
The compound, plunged into darkness, became a labyrinth of shadows. The white gravel and walls shone faintly in the moonlight, but black gloom filled the walkways and surrounded the buildings.
“Wait. Come back!” Sano called to the guards.
The echo of their rapid footsteps faded into the distance.
“Something strange is going on here.” Suspicion disturbed Sano. “This feels like a trap.”
He and his detectives started across the courtyard, swords drawn, treading quietly. Sano experienced a peculiar sensation, like a silent, windless air current vibrating around him. His skin prickled; his heartbeat accelerated; his breath quickened involuntarily with the physical urgency of fear. His muscles tightened in reaction to an evil presence.
Halting, he said, “What is it?”
Marume and Fukida had also stopped, apparently arrested by the same inexplicable feeling. Sano felt his heart beating harder, and the blood pulsating in his head.
“Where are you?” Fukida muttered, waving his sword as if under attack by a ghost.
“Show yourself!” Marume lunged at shadows.
In the near distance beyond the courtyard, through a walkway and the lacy black foliage of trees, a strange, pale haze tinged the air. The vibrations issued from this eerie brightness, muting noises that sounded like frightened cries. Sano pointed and said, “Whatever it is, it’s over there.”
Marume and Fukida hurried to stand between him and the unknown threat. “ssakan-sama, we’re taking you out of here,” Fukida said.
“Come on, let’s go,” Marume said.
But now, Sano’s sense of danger was overpowering. Ignoring his men’s attempt to protect him, he ran across the courtyard, bounded over the walkway, and through a garden toward the light.
The detectives chased after him, calling, “No! Stop!”
Sano came upon a wall that stood between him and the eerie glow. He could still feel the ominous presence, like an invisible net. Then he heard the loud, raspy breathing of some monstrous creature. Battling an instinctive urge to flee, he sheathed his sword. He crouched, arms raised, then jumped. His hands grasped the top of the wall; his feet scraped the plaster as he pulled himself up.
Suddenly the night exploded in a scream of thunderous intensity, as though a million voices had combined into a single horrific sound. Its force knocked Sano off the wall. He landed hard on his back, but he hardly noticed the pain. Rolling facedown, he clasped his arms over his head, trying to block out the dreadful noise that blasted through him. Involuntary sobs wracked him as he felt his muscles tremble uncontrollably, his tendons contract, and his ears throb in pain. Every nerve vibrated; his stomach and chest shuddered. Sano realized that this terrible scream was the spirit cry heard across Miyako the night of Left Minister Konoe’s murder.
He cried out in terror, but he couldn’t even hear himself over the noise. He feared for the safety of his detectives as the killer unleashed the deadly power of kiai.
Who was it?
Despite his agony, Sano experienced a sense of awe. Witnessing this ultimate expression of the martial arts affirmed not only his belief in kiai, but his faith in the Way of the Warrior.
The scream abruptly stopped. A huge void of silence spread across the night. Sano gasped in relief. His ears rang from the blast. He ached all over; his head throbbed; his heart still pounded. Pushing himself to his knees, he inhaled deep breaths of air and looked around. The strange brightness was gone. In the moonlight Sano saw two inert bodies sprawled on the grass nearby.
“Marume-san!” he cried. “Fukida-san?”
To his relief, the men stirred and sat up. “Merciful gods, am I alive or dead?” Marume groaned.
“I’ll never again think of kiai as just an ancient superstition,” Fukida said, gasping.
Sano realized that they’d all survived because they’d been far enough away from the source of the spirit cry to feel only minor secondary effects. He said, “Now we know for sure that Lady Asagao didn’t murder Left Minister Konoe, because she’s locked up in police headquarters. The killer is still out there.”
From beyond the wall came the rapid, irregular rhythm of retreating footsteps.
“Quickly!” Sano said.
He and the detectives helped one another scramble over the wall, into another compound. Out of the darkness before them rose long buildings with piles of wood stacked against the walls and huge stone hearths outside. A hush pervaded the palace, as though everyone knew that the scream heralded death and chose to hide until the danger passed.
“These must be the kitchens,” Sano said in a low, hurried voice. “We’ll spread out. If you see the strange light or feel the vibrations again, make a lot of noise and disrupt the killer’s concentration to prevent another spirit cry.”
Marume and Fukida disappeared into the shadows. Sano crept around the hearths, alert for any movement or other hint of the killer’s presence. He remembered the horrendous noise and power of the spirit cry, and icy fear seeped through him while he searched the kitchen compound. Then he spied a dark shape on the ground outside a building. He approached cautiously and recognized the shape as a prone human figure, lying motionless on its stomach, arms and legs splayed, a sword clutched in its hand.
Blackness surrounded the body like a viscous shadow. Sano touched the shadow, and hot liquid smeared his fingers. The raw, metallic odor of fresh blood and the reek of feces assailed him. He listened for the sound of breaths, but heard nothing. Sano rolled the corpse over. It had a weird pliancy, as if the bones had dissolved, and felt oddly warm. Despite the meager light, Sano saw that the dead man’s face was awash in blood that had poured from his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears, drenching his clothes. He recalled Yoriki Hoshina describing Left Minister Konoe’s death
: “…hemorrahaged almost all his blood…internal organs ruptured…many bones broken…”
Nausea and horror churned Sano’s stomach. Because he hadn’t solved the case, someone else had died.
Hurrying footsteps pounded toward him. Was the murderer returning to attack again? He looked up, saw Marume and Fukida coming, and exhaled in relief.
“We couldn’t find the killer,” Marume said. “Whoever it is could be anywhere in the palace, or out in the city by now.” Then he saw the corpse beside Sano. “Merciful gods!”
“Who is it?” Fukida said.
Sano took a cloth from under his sash. He wiped the blood off the corpse’s face, revealing familiar heavy-lidded eyes, flat nose, and thin mouth. “It’s Aisu,” he said, startled. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s chief retainer.”
Marume said, “He was a piece of scum. I’m certain he threw that bomb at us in Tobacco Lane. He deserved to die.”
“What was he doing here?” Fukida said.
“I don’t know, but his presence must mean that Yanagisawa is in Miyako, because they’re never far apart.” Sano experienced the disturbing shock of discovering that reality had a far different shape than he’d perceived. Rising, he cursed under his breath. He’d thought himself safe from Yanagisawa, free to restore his honor and regain the shogun’s favor in peace. But his enemy must have secretly followed him here. Why had Sano imagined that Yanagisawa would let him off so easily?
“But why would the chamberlain risk leaving Edo?” Marume said, his voice skeptical. “Where is he now, and what’s he up to?”
As Sano stood contemplating Aisu’s corpse, he realized that Yanagisawa must be the hidden element in the murder case. Yanagisawa was working another plot against him. Its exact details weren’t clear, but Sano glimpsed its intent, with mounting dismay.
“This whole investigation was rigged as a trap for me at the start,” he said. “Yanagisawa has been working behind the scenes, directing my every move—Aisu wasn’t clever enough to manage such a tricky operation alone. Events were supposed to culminate in my death from the spirit cry tonight. But the murderer killed Aisu instead of me.”
Marume and Fukida looked at him as if concerned for his sanity. “How do you know?” Marume said. “And how could Yanagisawa manipulate you? Even if he sent the message summoning you here and ordered the guards to abandon us inside the palace, how could he cause the killer to attack? And why was Aisu here?”
Sano had ideas, but no definite answers yet. A plan began forming in his mind. Whatever stroke of luck had saved his life, plus the knowledge he’d gained, gave him a chance to turn Yanagisawa’s scheme to his own advantage. But he needed to act fast. Instead of replying to Marume’s questions, he raised his head, listening to the night. He heard distant voices. The glow of lanterns hazed the air above surrounding areas of the palace, and he knew that soon people would flock to see what new destruction the spirit cry had wrought.
“There’s no time to talk,” Sano said. “Just listen, then do as I say. Fukida-san, give me your surcoat.”
The detective frowned in confusion, but obeyed. Sano spread the garment over Aisu’s face. “You stay with the corpse. Tell the Imperial Court that it’s me, that I was the killer’s victim.” Ignoring his men’s shocked exclamations, Sano rushed on: “Aisu was taller and thinner than I am, but the blood and filth will discourage anyone from taking a close look. You’ll have to remove the corpse as quickly as possible and figure out a way to hide it. Then issue an official report of my death. Keep the real events of tonight a secret.”
“Yes, ssakan-sama.” Although Fukida sounded dazed, Sano knew he would carry out the orders.
“Marume-san, you come with me now,” Sano said. “We have to get out of the palace before anyone sees me.”
“Wait, please, ssakan-sama,” Fukida said. “What shall I tell your wife?”
The question almost shattered Sano’s resolve. While the voices grew louder, moving lights shone up through trees outside the kitchen compound, and precious time sped away, he imagined how the news of his murder would affect Reiko. To let her think him dead was much worse than his lust for another woman. When Reiko found out the truth, she might never forgive his deceit. But if he didn’t use this chance to combat Yanagisawa’s machinations, he might never solve the case or win his battle against the chamberlain. Failure would doom Reiko along with him. He had to save them both.
“Break the news to my wife as gently as possible,” Sano said at last. “Not even she can know I survived, until I finish what I have to do.” Any lapse in secrecy could ruin everything. The fewer people who knew about his ploy, the better. Sano added, “With luck, I won’t have to deceive her for long.” Then he and Marume left quickly.
15
As Sano and Marume raced past buildings in the imperial enclosure, dark windows brightened. Glowing lanterns moved within corridors. All around them, Sano heard voices and movement. He and Marume changed directions repeatedly in order to avoid the notice of the people converging on the murder scene. In a garden, they ducked behind a pavilion to hide from a horde of palace watchmen. They dashed through courtyards and passages until they reached the wall that separated the enclosure from the northern sector of the kuge quarter. They scaled the wall and leapt down to the lane below.
“Which way?” Marume asked, panting.
Sano didn’t know a direct route out of the palace, and he couldn’t risk getting lost or being seen in the kuge quarter. He said, “We’ll take the overhead shortcut.”
He and Marume climbed the fence opposite the imperial enclosure and pulled themselves onto the low eaves of a villa. Rooftops spread around them like an eerie gray landscape of tiled peaks. They sped across this, and Sano hoped that if the residents heard them, they would be far away before anyone got a good look at them. They jumped from house to house and over narrow lanes. At last they surmounted the main palace wall and halted in the darkness of Imadegawa Avenue.
“What now?” Marume said.
“Go to the gate we went in by and get our horses,” Sano said. “Ride away, then double around and meet me in the alley across Teramachi Avenue and two blocks north from the gate. Don’t let the palace guards see you come back.”
Marume hurried off to obey. Sano’s own path took him through the deserted city streets around the palace, past dark houses and closed shops. By the time he reached the rendezvous spot, Marume was already there, waiting for him beneath a balcony with the horses.
“Care to let me in on what’s next?” Marume said.
Sano quickly outlined his plan. Then they stood in the alley, watching the avenue. After a brief wait, Marume said, “Look, here he comes.”
Just as Sano had predicted, Yoriki Hoshina rode up to the gate, accompanied by a group of other policemen. The group dismounted and went inside the palace.
“Let’s go,” Sano said.
They mounted their horses and rode to Miyako police headquarters, which was in the city’s administrative district, near the mansions of local officials. A stone wall enclosed stables, barracks, and a main building that housed offices. Torchlight flared within the compound. Sano had interviewed Lady Asagao here in her prison cell earlier. He’d also met with Hoshina to discuss the arrest, so he knew where Hoshina’s private quarters were. Now he and Marume left their horses in a side street. Marume went to the gate to tell the guards he wanted to talk to Hoshina about the murder at the palace. Sano crept around to the rear of the complex.
Pairs of idle, bored-looking sentries manned gates at intervals along the wall; clearly, they didn’t expect anyone to break into police headquarters. Sano climbed over the wall, dropped into the deserted compound, and located the barracks, four long, single-story buildings with narrow verandas in front and privy sheds behind, arranged around a courtyard. Hoshina had a corner suite in the east unit. Just as Sano reached the rear door, he heard voices at the front of the building: Marume, talking with the guard who had escorted him into headquarters to wait for Ho
shina. Presently Sano heard a door open and noises inside; the windows of Hoshina’s quarters lit up. The broad silhouette of Marume appeared on the paper panes and moved toward Sano. Then the door slid open.
Marume looked out, saw Sano, and nodded. Sano entered silently, following Marume into a bedchamber where Hoshina’s futon lay on the floor, through paper partitions to an office furnished with a desk and cabinets, then a parlor where a lantern burned above floor cushions and a low table. Marume knelt in the parlor and Sano on the other side of the partition in the shadow of a cabinet to wait for Hoshina.
Reiko heard the spirit cry from her room in Nij Manor.
After Sano had left for the Imperial Palace, she’d lain down on the futon while waiting for him to come back, and had fallen asleep. The chilling scream jarred her into alertness. Around her, floors creaked as the inn’s other guests stirred; voices clamored.
“Did you hear that noise?”
“What was it?”
But Reiko knew instinctively what it was. She also knew for certain now that Lady Asagao wasn’t the killer, because the spirit cry had come from the direction of the palace. In the moonlight that shone through the windows, she saw that she was alone; Sano hadn’t returned. A rush of panic agitated Reiko. The spirit cry had heralded death once before. Not much time could have passed since Sano left; he could still be inside the palace. She had to make sure he was safe.
She dressed hurriedly, then ran out to the corridor. The innkeeper’s wife appeared, clad in a night robe.
“That was the same noise we heard the night the imperial left minister died,” said the woman. “Everyone knows he was killed by a ghost with magical powers.” This, then, was how the superstitious townspeople explained the scream and the murder. “You must stay in your room where you’ll be safe.”
“I have to see if my husband is all right.” Reiko started toward the door.
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