She’d used her last lead, to no avail. She would neither solve the murder case nor save her life. True, she’d discovered Lady Ichiteru’s quarrel with Harume, and that Lieutenant Kushida had been in Harume’s room shortly before the murder. Yet this evidence hadn’t led to a conviction. Reiko’s unhappiness turned to anger at herself and her sex. She was nothing but a worthless female who might as well go home and sew until the soldiers came to take her to the execution ground!
And beneath the anger seethed a disturbing mixture of contrary emotions. Though Reiko regretted that she couldn’t prove her superiority to Sano by beating him at his own game, she realized that she’d also wanted to please him by finding Lady Harume’s killer. She wanted him to like and respect her. Even as defeat shamed her, she rued the lost hope of love.
Suddenly the koto music ended on a dissonant chord. “Wait a moment,” Sensei Fukuzawa said. “I do remember something after all. It was so peculiar; how could I have forgotten?” He clucked in irritation at his bad memory, and Reiko’s spirits rose anew. “I saw someone in the Large Interior who shouldn’t have been there. It happened… let me see… I believe it was two days ago.”
“But Lady Harume was already dead by then,” Reiko said. Again her hopes plummeted. “You couldn’t have seen the murderer come to poison the ink. Unless-are you absolutely sure of the time?”
“For once I am, because it was a memorable occasion. I was finishing my last lesson before leaving Edo Castle and embarking on my pilgrimage, when I felt an attack of diarrhea and cramps coming on. I rushed to the privy. It was when I went back to the music room that I saw him in the corridor. Even if he had nothing to do with the murder, there is definitely something strange going on at the castle. I should have reported the incident, but didn’t. Perhaps if I tell you what happened, and you think it’s important, you could inform your husband so he can take appropriate action.”
“Who was it that you saw?” Reiko said. Perhaps the killer had revisited the crime scene.
“The No actor Shichisaburō.”
Reiko was disconcerted. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s lover? But he is not a suspect. And how did he get inside the Large Interior? Even if he managed to slip past the sentries, wouldn’t the palace guards have thrown him out?”
“I doubt whether anyone recognized him besides me,” said the old musician, “because he was disguised as a young woman, wearing a lady’s kimono and a long wig. Shichisaburō often plays females on stage-he’s adept at imitating their manners. He looked like he belonged in the Large Interior. The corridors are dim, and he was careful to keep his face averted.”
“Then how did you know it was him?”
Sensei Fukuzawa chuckled. “I have spent many years performing musical accompaniments for the theater. I’ve watched hundreds of actors. A man impersonating a woman always betrays his true sex in some small way that goes unnoticed by audiences. But my eye is sharp. Not even the best onnagata can fool me. In Shichisaburō’s case, it was his stride. Because a male’s body is denser than a female’s, his steps were a bit too heavy for a woman of his size. I immediately said to myself, ‘That’s a boy, not a girl!’ ”
Alarm flared in Reiko as she glimpsed a possible explanation for this subterfuge. If what she suspected was true, then how fortunate that she’d found such an astute observer as Sensei Fukuzawa! Perhaps she could prove her worth as a detective and save her life at the same time. Through her excitement, she got a firm grip on her objectivity, wanting to make sure she was right before drawing conclusions.
“How can you be positive it was Shichisaburō and not some other man, if you didn’t see his face?” she asked.
“Shichisaburō’s family is an ancient, venerable clan of actors,” Sensei Fukuzawa said. “Over generations, they’ve developed signature techniques for the stage-unobtrusive gestures and inflections that are recognized only by experts on No drama. I’ve watched Shichisaburō perform. When he turned the corner ahead of me, I saw him lift the hem of the robe off the floor in the manner invented by his grandfather, for whom I often played musical scores.”
Sensei Fukuzawa demonstrated, gathering the skirt of his own kimono between thumb and two fingers, with the others curled into the palm. “It was definitely Shichisaburō.”
“What did he do?” Reiko forced the words through the anxiety that compressed her lungs.
“I was curious, so I followed him at a distance. He looked around to check if anyone was watching, but he didn’t notice me-bad eyesight runs in his family, though they’re all trained to act as if they can see just fine. He walked straight to Lady Keisho-in’s chambers. There were no guards stationed outside, as there have been on occasions when I’ve played for the shogun’s mother. No one else was around, either. Shichisaburō went inside without knocking, and stayed for some moments. I waited around the corner. When he came out again, he was hiding something inside his sleeve. I heard the rustle of paper.”
Reiko thought of Shichisaburō’s connection with Chamberlain Yanagisawa, her husband’s enemy. She recalled Yanagisawa’s rumored attempts to assassinate Sano, to destroy his reputation and undermine his influence with the shogun. Her suspicions gained substance. Had Yanagisawa bribed Lady Keisho-in’s guards to desert their posts? In a turmoil of fear and anticipation, she said, “And then what?”
“Shichisaburō hurried through the women’s quarters. I barely managed to keep up with him. He slipped into a chamber at the end of a passage.”
Lady Harume’s room, Reiko thought. Dread and elation dizzied her as she considered the political climate surrounding the murder: the imperiled succession; the jealousies and power struggles; the rumors about Lady Keisho-in. Shichisaburō’s clandestine visit linked these elements of the case in a pattern that signaled catastrophe.
“I put my ear to the wall,” Sensei Fukuzawa continued. “I heard Shichisaburō rummaging around inside. When he came out, he was empty-handed. I meant to confront him, but unfortunately, I felt the diarrhea coming on again. Shichisaburō vanished. My illness prevented me from immediately reporting what I’d seen, and later I was so busy finishing my lessons and bidding farewell to the ladies that I forgot all about it.”
The last piece of the puzzle brought the whole pattern into deadly focus. Reiko leapt to her feet.
“Is something wrong, child?” The old music teacher’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry, Sensei Fukuzawa, but I must leave at once. This is a matter of extreme urgency!”
Bowing, Reiko hastily made her farewell. She fled down the hill and jumped into the waiting palanquin. “Take me back to Edo Castle,” she ordered the bearers. “And hurry!”
There was no doubt in her mind that Sano would investigate the rumors about Lady Keisho-in, and find supporting evidence. Honor and duty would compel him to charge her with murder, regardless of the consequences. Reiko alone knew that Sano was in grave danger. Only she could save him-and herself-from disgrace and death. She must warn him before he stepped into the trap. Yet as Reiko sat forward in the palanquin, willing it to move faster, a new fear penetrated her consciousness.
If she succeeded, would Sano appreciate what she’d done? Or would her defiance destroy any chance of love between them?
30
With Lady Ichiteru’s testimony, the letter, the diary, and Harume’s father’s statement, there’s too much evidence against Lady Keisho-in to ignore,” Sano told Hirata. “We can’t delay interrogating her any longer. And Priest Ryuko is the right size and shape to match the description of the man who stabbed Choyei.”