“And your second question?” Lady Yanagisawa said.
“Let’s suppose-just for the sake of speculation-that there are two women friends, both married to high-ranking officials, both mothers of young children.” Reiko chose her words carefully, watching Lady Yanagisawa. “Why would one of the women attack the other?”
The skin around Lady Yanagisawa’s eyes constricted, giving her the look of a cat with its ears laid flat by alarm. A shiver twisted upward through her body. She rose, turned away from Reiko, and spoke in a muffled voice: “Perhaps she thought that by destroying her friend’s good fortune, she would gain what her friend lost.”
This was as close to a confession and explanation as Reiko expected from Lady Yanagisawa. Though she’d already guessed the woman’s motive, hearing it shocked Reiko. She released her breath as nausea rose in her throat. Lady Yanagisawa was less evil than insane.
“But she undid what she’d done… and all was well,” Lady Yanagisawa continued. “There would be no bad consequences for her.”
“No. There wouldn’t be,” Reiko said.
Since Masahiro hadn’t died, Lady Yanagisawa was a murderer by intention, but not by deed. No one except her and Reiko had witnessed Kikuko pushing Masahiro under the water. Sano and Reiko had afterward discovered that the nursemaid O-hana had vanished. They’d deduced that Lady Yanagisawa had bribed Yuya to lure Reiko away from home, and O-hana to drug the other servants with a sleeping potion and let Kikuko into the house, where Masahiro was alone. Sano had ordered a search for O-hana, but found no trace of her yet. The nursemaid must have fled town because she feared Reiko and Sano would punish her for her betrayal. No one except Reiko and Lady Yanagisawa knew the truth, except for Kikuko, who could not speak it.
Besides, even if Reiko did have any evidence against Lady Yanagisawa and Kikuko, she couldn’t accuse them of attempted murder. Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s power shielded his wife and daughter from the law. Even if they had killed Masahiro, they would have escaped punishment.
“Perhaps the woman who attacked her friend is more fortunate than she deserves,” Reiko said.
She rose to go before she did or said something she would regret. She wanted to get as far away from Lady Yanagisawa as possible and never see her again.
Lady Yanagisawa turned, her eyes filled with naked pleading. She said, “We’ll still be friends, won’t we?”
The very idea of keeping up their acquaintance, as if nothing had happened, stunned Reiko. To let the woman into her home, to have their children play together, never to know whether Lady Yanagisawa had recovered from a temporary murderous impulse or was incurably mad, and always to live in fear, was beyond possibility. Then Reiko experienced pure horror as she understood that she couldn’t refuse the wife of the shogun’s second-in-command; nor should she reject Lady Yanagisawa and spur her to more attacks. Now Reiko realized that she’d acquired a most dangerous kind of enemy-one who craved her love as well as her destruction.
“Of course we’ll be friends,” Reiko said.
A night of freezing rain enveloped Edo Castle. Outside Sano’s mansion, ice glazed the branches of the trees in the garden and formed glittering pendants on the eaves. Inside, Sano and Reiko lay in bed, covered by a thick quilt. Masahiro slept between them, breathing softly. Warmth radiated from charcoal braziers; the lantern shone like a small sun. Sano basked as the tension of the last few days departed from him and peace lulled his spirit.
“The outcome of the investigation still astounds me,” Reiko said. “My friend proved to be my enemy. Your enemy provided the clue that led you to the killer. The pillow book that we decided was a forgery was the real one.”
“Life is unpredictable,” Sano agreed. “Things are not always what they seem at first.”
“And a woman we thought was a murder victim turned out to be the person ultimately responsible for the crime, as well as the deaths of Fujio, Momoko, and the prostitute.” Reiko turned to Sano, her expression concerned. “Does that disturb you?”
Unsettling memories encroached upon Sano’s contentment. “While I was presenting evidence at the trial, Wisteria stared at me with terrible, bitter hatred in her eyes. I know she blamed me for her downfall. When the magistrate permitted her to speak for herself, she said, ‘They drove me to it.’ She never stopped believing that everything she did was justified by what other people had done to her. She went to her death without accepting responsibility for her own actions.”
“Wisteria was consumed by her desire for revenge. In the end, it destroyed her.” Reiko mused, “I pity her so much that I can forgive her for the trouble she caused you.”
“As can I,” Sano said.
They lay in silence, pondering the dangerous power of vengeance, regretting the courtesan’s obsession, and sharing gratitude because fate had spared them the ruin that Wisteria had intended for Sano.
Then Sano said, “At least some good has come of this investigation. Your instincts saved Masahiro’s life. You should never again lack confidence in them.”
Reiko smiled, proud yet humble.
“I’m troubled that Lady Yanagisawa promises to be a continuing threat to you and Masahiro,” Sano said.
“I suppose we would have acquired an enemy sooner or later, since enemies abound in this world of ours,” Reiko said with a sigh of resignation.
“By the way, I heard some interesting news,” Sano said. “Magistrate Aoki has been demoted for interfering with the investigation and wrongfully condemning Fujio and Momoko. He’s now a secretary to his replacement.”
“So there is some justice for corrupt men like him,” Reiko said, “even if it’s not enough.”
“And Chamberlain Yanagisawa has introduced his son to the shogun,” Sano said. “It looks as though His Excellency may soon have a new heir.”
Dour amusement quirked Reiko’s mouth. “Trust the chamberlain to do exactly what you were accused of trying-and to get away with it.” Then she brightened. “There’s better news. Midori says her father and Hirata’s have made peace and approved the marriage. I look forward to a wedding soon.”
“I’m not looking forward to doing Police Commissioner Hoshina the favor he extorted from me,” Sano said wryly.
“You’ll think of a way around him when the time comes,” Reiko assured Sano, then smiled. “What we can both look forward to is our next investigation.”
They joined hands across their sleeping child. Icy raindrops pelted the roof while they drowsed, safe together, strong in their confident belief that they could brave whatever the future held.
About Laura Joh Rowland
Laura Joh Rowland is a detective/mystery author best known for her series of mystery novels set in the late days of feudal Japan, mostly in Edo during the late 1600s. Rowland takes some licence with known figures, creating fictionalised versions of Tokugawa Tsunayoshi and Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu. Objective historical details, however, are credibly accurate.
