Laura Rowland - The Perfumed Sleeve

“Or maybe each contains part of the truth,” Dr. Ito said.

Sano nodded, his mind sorting and recombining the evidence into ever more baffling patterns. “Can you look for other clues on Makino that might resolve the contradictions?”

But although Dr. Ito spent the next hour poring over the corpse with a magnifying glass, he found nothing more. “I am sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” he said. “What will you do now?”

“I’ll continue investigating.” Sano had a disturbing sense that he’d embarked on a journey to an unknown destination, from which there would be no return.

He liked a challenge, and his desire for the truth had strengthened with the first intimation of foul play against Makino. Yet now that he was sure Makino had been murdered, the matter involved more than a favor to a dead man or a personal quest for justice. For the next step in his journey, he must carry his investigation into the public realm, an arena fraught with hazards.

In the private chambers of Sano’s estate, Reiko and her friend Midori, the wife of Sano’s chief retainer Hirata, sat with their children at the kotatsu in the nursery. Coals burned inside the square wooden frame of the kotatsu. Its flat top formed a table, over which was spread a quilt that contained the heat from the coals, covered everyone’s legs, and kept them warm. Lanterns brightened the gloom of the day. Maids placed a meal of soup, rice, roasted fish, and pickled vegetables on the table. While Reiko’s son Masahiro hungrily gobbled food, Taeko, five months old, nursed at Midori’s breast.

Reiko watched the cozy scene as if from a distance. Ever since she’d arrived home from the island where the Dragon King had held her, Midori, the shogun’s mother, and Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s wife captive, she’d inhabited a dimension separate from everyone else. What had happened during the abduction, and on that island, enclosed her in private shadow that nothing could dispel.

“This morning, I found that Taeko had crept up beyond the head of her bed while she slept,” Midori said. Her pretty face was still plump from the weight she’d gained during pregnancy. She lovingly stroked her daughter’s glossy black hair. “That’s a sign that she’ll rise high in the world.”

Superstitions connected with infants abounded, and Midori took them seriously. “Hirata-san hung a picture of a devil beating a prayer gong in Taeko’s room. Now she doesn’t cry at night. Hirata-san is such a good papa.” Her tone bespoke her love for her husband.

“Mama, why do ladies shave their eyebrows?” Masahiro said, his mouth full of food. Almost three years old, he had a lively curiosity about the world. “When is it going to snow?”

Reiko automatically smiled, conversed, and ate. But the distance between herself and her companions worried her, as did the other ill effect wrought by the kidnapping.

After her rescue and a quiet month at home, she’d thought herself recovered from the horrors she’d experienced. But the first time she’d ventured outside the estate after her homecoming had proved her wrong. She’d gone to visit her father, and she’d been enjoying the trip, until her palanquin, bearers, and mounted escorts reached the official district outside Edo Castle. Suddenly, as if by evil magic, Reiko was transported back to the highway where the kidnappers had ambushed her and her friends. Memories of the attack came, terrifyingly real. Her heart hammered in panic; vertigo assailed her.

The spell lasted only an instant. Reiko decided that it had been a mental fluke that wouldn’t recur.

But it did, several days later, when she went out again. Panic struck the moment Reiko cleared the Edo Castle gate. The next time, the spell started before her palanquin left her own courtyard, and it affected her so badly that she ran back into the house. Soon the mere thought of leaving home triggered the pounding heart, vertigo, and panic. Fear of the spells triggered more of them. Reiko tried to cure herself with meditation and martial arts practice. She took medicine composed of dragon bones and sweet flag root to combat nervous hysteria. Nothing worked. Reiko hadn’t left home since that third episode.

Confined to the estate, she’d pondered the baffling spells. Why did she have them, when the other women seemed unaffected? It was true her experiences had been worse than theirs. She also believed that the terror she’d stifled, while they gave free rein to theirs, had become trapped inside her and demanded release. Yet understanding didn’t cure the spells, nor did berating herself. Now she felt as much a prisoner as when locked in the Dragon King’s palace. She realized that unless she forced herself to go outside despite the spells, she would remain always a prisoner. Unless she could brave the world’s hazards, she must forever cease helping Sano with his investigations, abandon the detective work she loved, and shirk her duty to further her family’s welfare.

Like it or not, the time to act was now. Reiko flung the quilt off her legs and rose from the kotatsu.

“Mama, where are you going?” Masahiro said.

Already Reiko felt her heartbeat speed up as the panic encroached. “Out,” she said.

“Where, Mama?” said Masahiro.

“Someplace,” Reiko said, fighting to control the tremor in her voice. “Anyplace.”

“But the weather is so cold,” Midori said. “Why not stay home, where it’s warm and we can all be cozy together?”

Reiko saw that Midori was just as afraid to leave the security of the estate as she was. Midori hadn’t even tried to go out since they’d come home. But while Midori was content to stay, happily occupied by new motherhood, Reiko was not. Although gripped by the fear that if she went she might never return, she hastened from the room.

She ordered a manservant to assemble an escort for her. As she donned her cloak and shoes, her mind recalled women screaming during the ambush. As she climbed into her palanquin, she envisioned fallen bodies and blood everywhere. While her palanquin and escorts bore her downhill through the winding passages of Edo Castle, shudders wracked her body. Her frantic gasps and thudding heartbeat sounded loud above the remembered voice of the man who’d almost killed her. But she held firm, like a lone, courageous warrior facing an enemy legion.

By the time her procession left Edo Castle, the spell receded. Reiko felt triumphant even though shaky. She was outside the castle, and she’d survived. Next time would be easier. Eventually she would conquer the evil magic and the spells wouldn’t trouble her again. Now Reiko looked out the window of her palanquin at the city she’d not seen in five months. Her procession was moving down the wide boulevard through the district south of Edo Castle where the daimyo lived. Huge estates lined the boulevard, each surrounded by barracks, their white plaster walls decorated with black tiles set in geometric patterns. Multitudes of samurai rode along the street.

Suddenly a procession overtook Reiko’s, and she saw the crest of the Yanagisawa clan on the riders’ garments. A black palanquin pulled up alongside hers; its window opened, revealing a woman dressed in dark gray kimono and cloak. She was in her thirties, with a plain, flat face devoid of makeup. Her dour, narrow-eyed gaze brightened as she beheld Reiko, and a hint of a smile curved her broad lips. Now Reiko remembered that there were dangers that weren’t just the product of her imagination and threats not dispelled when Sano had rescued her from the Dragon King.

“Hello, Reiko-san,” murmured Lady Yanagisawa, wife of the chamberlain.

Beside her appeared a beautiful little girl with a happy smile, and a vacant expression in her eyes: Lady Yanagisawa’s feebleminded nine-year-old daughter.