Laura Rowland - The Assassin's Touch

“Honorable Chamberlain,” he said. “What-why-?”

Chief Ejima’s adopted son had thick eyebrows and a low, heavy forehead that gave him a primitive appearance despite the black silk ceremonial robes he wore. He was obviously upset to realize that Sano had overheard the quarrel.

“Forgive me for the intrusion,” Sano said, “but I must talk to you about your father’s death.”

The woman appeared beside the son. She was near his age-and perhaps two decades younger than her husband had been. Glossy black hair hung in a plait over her shoulder. She had pretty features sharpened by cunning. She wore a modest but expensive gray satin kimono.

“Of course. A thousand apologies for my poor manners,” said the son, bowing to Sano. “My name is Ejima Jozan.”

Lady Ejima also bowed. Her tilted black eyes sparked with wariness as they regarded Sano.

“Please come in.” Apparently mystified as to the reason for this visit from the shogun’s second-in-command, Jozan backed into the room to let Sano and his men enter.

The room’s shutters were closed against the sunshine. The sealed oblong wooden coffin lay on a dais. Smoking incense burners adorned a table that also held a vase of Chinese anise branches, offerings of food, and a sword to avert evil spirits. Jozan and Lady Ejima had been quarreling over Ejima’s estate while holding a vigil over his corpse, like scavengers fighting over carrion.

“My condolences on your loss,” Sano said.

Jozan thanked him. Lady Ejima said, “May I offer you some refreshments?”

Her manner was more forward than usual for a high-ranking woman. Sano recalled hearing that Ejima had married a courtesan from the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter. After Sano had politely declined her offer, he said, “Are there any family members in this house besides the two of you?”

“No,” Jozan said. “The others live away from Edo.”

“I’m sorry to say that I have bad news,” Sano said. “Ejima-san’s death was murder.”

A gasp of surprise issued from Lady Ejima. “But I thought he was killed in an accident during a horse race.”

Jozan shook his head, dazed. “What happened?”

“He was a killed by a death-touch. Someone has apparently mastered the ancient martial arts technique and used it on your father.” Sano watched the widow and adopted son. Lady Ejima’s pretty face took on a frozen, opaque look. Jozan blinked. Sano wondered if they were upset or thinking how the murder would affect them.

“Who was it?” Jozan said. “Who killed my father?”

“That’s yet to be determined,” Sano said. “I’m investigating Ejima-san’s murder and I need your cooperation.”

“I’m at your service.” Jozan made an expansive gesture, as though glad to give Sano anything he asked.

“I, too, will do whatever I can to help find my husband’s murderer,” said Lady Ejima.

Jozan’s features crumpled. He averted his face, hiding it behind his sleeve. “Please forgive me,” he said as a sob choked him. “My poor father’s death was enough of a shock, but now this! It’s a terrible tragedy.”

Lady Ejima seized Jozan’s arm and yanked it away from his face. “You hypocrite! What do you care how he died, as long as you inherit his money?”

“Shut up! Get away from me!” Jozan flung the woman off him and turned to Sano, obviously aghast that the chamberlain of Japan should hear him accused of such lack of filial devotion. “Please pay no attention to her. She’s hysterical.”

Sano observed that Jozan’s eyes were devoid of tears and black with fury at Lady Ejima.

“My dearest, darling husband, gone forever!” she wailed. “I loved him so much. How shall I live without him?”

Jozan scowled at her. “You’re the hypocrite. You pretended to love my father, but you only married him because of his rank and wealth.”

“That’s not true!” Lady Ejima shouted. “You were always jealous because I came between you and him. Now you’re trying to slander me!”

Sano reflected that the culprit in a murder case was often to be found within the victim’s family. Jozan and Lady Ejima seemed unlikely to know the technique of dim-mak, but a past case involving a murder in the imperial capital had taught Sano that martial arts skills came in unexpected-looking packages.

“That’s enough out of you,” Jozan said, his patience snapped. “Leave the room.”

“You don’t give the orders around here,” Lady Ejima huffed. “I’ll stay. Any business regarding my husband is my concern.”

“Actually, I want you both to stay,” Sano said.

Lady Ejima gave Jozan a smug, vindicated smile. He hissed air out his mouth, flung her a look that promised she would be sorry later for insulting him, and turned, shamefaced, to Sano. “A thousand apologies for our disgraceful behavior,” he said. “We meant you no offense. How can we help you?”

“I need to know who was with Ejima and every place that he went during the past two days,” Sano said. “Can you reconstruct his movements for me?”

“Yes,” Jozan said. “I served as his secretary. I kept his schedule.”

“Let’s start with the time before the horse race.”

“My father and I had breakfast together, then worked on reports and correspondence in his office here at home.”

“How did he spend the previous night?” Sano asked.

Lady Ejima answered: “He was with me. In our bedchamber.”

“The whole night?”

“Well, no. He came home very late.”

“We went to a banquet at the chief judicial councilor’s estate,” Jozan said.

Sano saw the scope of his investigation expand to include many people besides Ejima’s family and the horse race crowd. “And before that?”

“We spent the day at metsuke headquarters.” This was a complex of offices in the palace. “My father had meetings with subordinates and appointments with visitors.”

More questioning revealed that Ejima had spent the previous night with his wife and the evening at another banquet.

“In the afternoon, we went into town so that my father could meet with informants,” Jozan continued. “It wouldn’t do for them to come here or to headquarters.”

Sano understood why they wanted to keep their role as informants a secret: They were bakufu underlings hired to report on their superiors, who would punish them harshly for spying. “Where did these meetings take place?”

“At six different teahouses in Nihonbashi.”

The investigation now expanded across even more territory, to include countless potential suspects. “I need the locations of those teahouses,” Sano said. “Also the names of everyone that Ejima saw.”

“Certainly.”

Jozan fetched his record book. Sano skimmed the neatly written characters. Jozan had recorded the names of the fifteen banquet guests, the twenty men who had meetings and appointments with his father, and Ejima’s informants.

“Did you see any of these people touch your father here?” Sano tapped a finger against his head where the fingerprint bruise had appeared on Ejima.

“No. But I wasn’t watching him every moment. I suppose they could have. And these appointments were private.” Jozan pointed to the names of three men Ejima had seen at metsuke headquarters and of all the informants. “He talked to them alone, while I stayed outside his office and the teahouses.”

“Who else besides the people listed in this book was around your father during the past two days?” Sano said.

Jozan visibly quailed at the prospect of trying to recollect. “His staff. Servants and guards, here and in the palace. People at the teahouses.”

And the crowds in the city streets, Sano thought. “Write down everybody you can remember. Send me the list.”