Laura Rowland - The Perfumed Sleeve

“What happened to the old man?” Sano asked.

“I later heard that the highway patrol found him and took him home,” Ebisuya said. “I still see him hanging around the theaters.”

“Who is he?”

“Oyama Banzan.”

Sano recognized the name of a judicial councilor. “And the girl?” he said, in case he needed another witness to the incident.

“I don’t know. Koheiji didn’t tell me.”

“They didn’t report him to the police?”

Ebisuya shook his head in pitying contempt. “Oyama must have been too ashamed to admit he’d been beaten up during a sex game. The girl must have been too scared to talk.” A malicious grin curved Ebisuya’s mouth. “And I waited until now.”

When Koheiji was a suspect in a serious crime, and Ebisuya could do him the most harm, thought Sano.

“Was my story worth your while?” Ebisuya held out his hand and wiggled the fingers.

“Time will tell,” Sano said, but he opened the pouch he wore at his waist and handed over a gold coin from the stash he carried for occasions like this.

Ebisuya tossed the coin up in the air, then closed it in his fist. “A thousand thanks. Good luck with your investigation. May Koheiji get his just reward.”

He dumped ash from his pipe and ground out the sparks with his foot. He opened the theater’s back door and slipped inside. Sano walked down the alley to the street and found Ibe waiting for him in front of the theater.

“I was beginning to think you’d run out on me,” Ibe said.

“My apologies for taking so long,” Sano said.

He decided not to tell his watchdog what he’d learned from Ebisuya. Woe to him if Chamberlain Yanagisawa found out he’d withheld information! Yet Sano also feared what Yanagisawa might do to an informant who could vindicate Lord Matsudaira. Sano could find himself discovering who had killed Makino yet unable to prove his case because witnesses had mysteriously vanished.

“We’ll go to the Nakamura-za Theater and see what the people there have to say about Koheiji, while my detectives finish up here,” he said.

As he and Ibe mounted their horses, Sano looked up at the sky above the tawdry theater signs. The bright afternoon sun was still high but had begun its descent toward the west. Reiko should be employed in Senior Elder Makino’s house by now. Sano wondered what she was doing. He’d been trying to concentrate on his work and block out fears about Reiko, but now he couldn’t force them from his mind. Ebisuya’s story incriminated a man situated dangerously close to her. Even though she was supposed to spy on the women, she would cross paths with Koheiji, whose savage impulses had seriously harmed at least one person. And if Koheiji was the murderer, chances were he’d had a female partner during the crime and cover-up-an accomplice just as eager as he to hide the truth about Makino’s death.

Yesterday, Sano would have rejoiced at finding evidence that pointed away from Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa. Now he must hope, for Reiko’s sake, that the killer was someone within the warring factions instead.

Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira knelt facing each other in the great audience hall of the palace. Beside the chamberlain sat his chief retainer, Mori; beside Lord Matsudaira sat his nephew, Daiemon. Behind each pair stood attendants and armed guards. Yanagisawa read menace in the somber faces of Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon; he breathed the fiery scent of battle fever in the atmosphere. Neither his high rank nor his bodyguards guaranteed his safety. The law against drawing weapons inside Edo Castle seemed a flimsy barrier to violence. And he saw, among Lord Matsudaira’s minions, one face that reduced the others to a blur.

Police Commissioner Hoshina stood in the first row behind his master. He regarded Yanagisawa with fierce, belligerent defiance. Yanagisawa averted his gaze from the onetime paramour he still loved with a passion and missed every moment.

“Why did you call this meeting?” he asked Lord Matsudaira in a deliberately calm voice.

“I decided that it’s time for a talk about the future,” Lord Matsudaira said, matching his tone.

Was this a hint that Lord Matsudaira wished to negotiate a truce? Although Yanagisawa had serious doubts that they could peaceably settle their differences, he was willing to try. Just today, his spies had sent him word of new enemy troops arriving in Edo. His own position grew more precarious, and Lord Matsudaira’s stronger, as time went on.

“Very well,” he told Lord Matsudaira. “Let’s talk.”

Lord Matsudaira nodded, then said, “If things continue in this direction, a war is inevitable.”

“True.” Yanagisawa felt Hoshina’s gaze piercing him. He realized that Lord Matsudaira knew about their bad blood and had brought Hoshina along to rattle his nerves.

“No man is invincible,” said Daiemon. Cunning and ambition shone on his youthful face; he ignored his uncle’s frown of displeasure that he’d interrupted the conversation. “Do you really want to risk dying in battle, Honorable Chamberlain?”

His sneer mocked Yanagisawa as a coward who feared death more than he wanted supreme power. Yanagisawa glared at Daiemon. Lord Matsudaira raised a hand to silence his nephew.

“Let us presume that neither of us wishes to die,” Lord Matsudaira said. “But let us not presume that the survivor will have an easy time. History has shown us that the result of a civil war is widespread poverty, famine, and disorder. To rule over a land in such condition would be a poor prize for the victor.”

Yanagisawa narrowed his eyes. Surely Lord Matsudaira didn’t expect to persuade him to back down because a war-torn kingdom wasn’t worth having.

“And the victor won’t rule unopposed,” Daiemon said, undaunted by his uncle’s authority. “What makes you think that you could keep our allies-or your own-under your thumb forever?” He grinned, belittling Yanagisawa’s chances of maintaining control over Japan even if he beat Lord Matsudaira.

“What makes you think you could do any better than I?” Yanagisawa forced himself to stay calm. The rude young upstart plagued him worse than did Lord Matsudaira. “You have quite a gift for offending people.”

“My nephew meant no offense, Honorable Chamberlain. Please excuse him.” Lord Matsudaira shot a warning glance at Daiemon, then addressed Yanagisawa in a conciliatory manner: “I didn’t bring you here to bait you. I’d hoped we could find a way to avoid a war that neither of us really wants.”

Yanagisawa would fight Lord Matsudaira to the death if necessary; but his fear for his life inclined him toward negotiation. And although he knew he shouldn’t let affairs of the heart influence his political decisions, he couldn’t help hoping that if they declared a truce, he and Hoshina might somehow reconcile.

“Suppose I do agree that peace is preferable to war,” he said cautiously. “What terms would you propose?”

A glance between Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon conveyed their mutual satisfaction that they’d lured him into bargaining. “I propose that we both disband our armies,” Lord Matsudaira said. “Afterward, we would undertake a reorganization of the government.”

“What sort of reorganization?” Yanagisawa said. He smelled an unfavorable deal, like a bad wind approaching.

“Uemori Yoichi will be promoted to Senior Elder Makino’s position,” said Lord Matsudaira. “The vacant seat on the council will be filled by Goto Kaemon.”

Yanagisawa stared in amazed disbelief. He’d expected Lord Matsudaira to offer him at least some concessions, but he was proposing to overload the nation’s highest governing body with men loyal to himself!