Laura Rowland - The Iris Fan

Reiko turned away from his unspoken question: Why have you changed? The answer hurt too much. Part of her spirit had died with the baby. It was the part that contained her courage, her taste for adventure, and her belief that she could prevail over stronger adversaries. She had become a small, frightened, helpless person who saw disaster around every corner. Sano didn’t like her new self, and neither did she. Reiko could hardly remember how she’d once been, how once she would have welcomed the prospect of a new investigation with her husband.

She could hardly remember how much in love they’d once been.

She was scared because they’d lost each other as well as the baby. She didn’t want that, but she didn’t know how to change it, and she didn’t deserve to be happy again. She was to blame for the baby’s death, not Sano, not Lord Ienobu. She was the one who’d overexerted, whose body had failed to carry the child to term, but she couldn’t bear to think about it, let alone tell Sano. Instead she salved her pain with anger.

“How is the investigation going?” Reiko flung the question at Sano like a challenge.

“We have the weapon and a potential witness.” Obviously anxious to put matters in a positive light, Sano described the iris fan and the boy who’d been sleeping with the shogun. “Also bloody footprints leading from the shogun’s chamber to the Large Interior.”

A spark of curiosity lit in Reiko despite herself. “The women are suspects?”

“So far.” Focused on convincing her that he’d made good progress, Sano didn’t notice her interest. “There are two who don’t have alibis.” He told her about Madam Chizuru and Tomoe.

This was where Reiko once would have jumped right in. Her strength as a detective lay in her ability to go places where a man couldn’t, talk to women, and extract information that they might withhold from a male detective or that might escape his notice. Her talents perfectly suited this crime. Reiko felt a stirring inside her spirit. Her fear quelled it like a foot stamping out a fire.

“There’s also the shogun’s wife,” Sano said. “I haven’t questioned her yet. She’s ill.”

Here was Lady Nobuko, her old adversary, right in the middle of another crime. Sano wasn’t the only one with samurai blood that craved revenge. When Reiko had lost the baby, Lady Nobuko had played no small role. The mention of Lady Nobuko brought back the pain of that awful day. Reiko recoiled from it. A new case that involved Lady Nobuko could only bring more trouble, and Reiko had the answer that Sano had been beating around the bush to avoid.

“So there’s no evidence against Lord Ienobu,” Reiko said flatly.

“I only started a few hours ago. You know it takes time. And there is evidence of a sort.” Sano described the connection between Ienobu and Madam Chizuru. “Lord Ienobu and Lady Nobuko are close, too. I’ll get him this time.”

Reiko felt a twinge of familiar restlessness. Once she’d never been able to sit idle while an investigation was underway and her family in danger. She was stuck in the past, but events were dislodging her, like an ocean current moving a sunken ship. Even as she resisted, she heard herself say, “I’ll help you, then. Let me question Lady Nobuko.”

Sano looked surprised that she would volunteer to help with an investigation she didn’t want him to conduct, then offended. “You think I can’t handle it by myself?”

“That’s not why I want to help,” Reiko said, dismayed because he’d misunderstood her.

“Isn’t it?” Sano’s voice was bitter. “You wanted me to stop trying to get Lord Ienobu for Yoshisato’s murder. You don’t approve of my doing this investigation, either, but you think I’m so incompetent that I’ll fail again, so you offer to help me even though you don’t want to.”

They’d fallen into a bad habit of not getting along, Reiko supposed. Not even a new case and the heightened threat to their family could break the habit. Angry at Sano for jumping to the wrong conclusion, she said, “It’s my neck in danger, too. And I want to take on Lady Nobuko.”

Sano nodded, admitting her point, frowning in concern. “Won’t your personal bias against her get in the way?”

“Won’t your personal bias against Lord Ienobu?”

Sano sighed, tired of arguing, still reluctant to give in. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“You’re calling me incompetent?” Reiko was the one on the defensive now. “After all the times I’ve helped you solve crimes?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Sano said, frustrated. “I’m talking about your health.”

Reiko knew she was so thin the wind could blow her away, and she hadn’t practiced martial arts in years, but she said, “I can handle Lady Nobuko. Besides, it’s dangerous enough sitting here waiting for Lord Ienobu to strike again.” She wanted to be in on this investigation, more than she’d realized at first.

Sano reluctantly conceded. “All right. Talk to Lady Nobuko.”

They rose, and he hesitantly put his arm around Reiko’s waist. Reiko shied away, picked up his food tray, and said, “I should wash the dishes before I go to the castle.”

He held his arm out, circling the empty space she’d vacated, then let it drop. Reiko was immediately sorry. He thought she didn’t want him to touch her because she was disgusted by him, his actions, and his failures. But she still desired him, and she was still in love with him even though she tried to deny it to herself because he obviously didn’t love her anymore. The way she’d treated Sano, she was lucky he didn’t divorce her and throw her out. The real reason was that she was afraid to arouse him, afraid of sex. She longed for another baby, but she’d failed to conceive after two years of trying. She couldn’t bear to get her hopes up and fail again and again. Nor could she bear the thought of miscarrying another child. But she couldn’t tell this to Sano. Every time she tried, she choked on tears. It seemed that nothing could heal the pain she carried inside her like a bleeding wound.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Sano said, “What’s wrong with Masahiro?”

That was another sore topic. “Midori caught Masahiro and Taeko … together, in the storeroom last night.”

Sano looked surprised, then disheartened by this trouble on top of trouble. He sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

Carrying the tray to the kitchen, Reiko thought of things she might have said. You have the most dangerous case of your life to solve, and I’m only making things worse, I’m sorry. But she still thought she was justified in criticizing Sano for starting a new campaign against Lord Ienobu, and he hadn’t apologized for putting honor ahead of their family. Neither was going to back down; they were both too sure they were right, both too proud.

Maybe the investigation would bring them back together. Reiko felt hope glimmer inside her, like a lighted window glimpsed through a snowstorm. Fear tempered hope. She was about to step into the same, treacherous political quagmire that she’d begged Sano to stay out of. But she found herself looking forward to another chance at Lady Nobuko.

Sano found Masahiro swinging a wooden sword, hacking savagely at the falling snowflakes, in the fenced yard behind the house. His breaths puffed out angry white vapor. His face was strained with distress. Sano remembered practicing martial arts with Masahiro when he’d been younger. Masahiro had worked hard but often clowned and laughed. Sano missed that carefree little boy, but he bore much of the blame for Masahiro’s present unhappiness.

Masahiro saw Sano, froze, and lowered his sword. His expression darkened.