"I want troops combing the city, nonstop, until Hoshina is found," Yanagisawa said.

"Yes, Honorable Chamberlain."

After the captain left, Yanagisawa leaned against the wall, shaken. Then he forced himself to forget Hoshina. He still had to solve the murder case and triumph over Sano. They'd arranged to meet here at the hour of the rooster to share their findings, and until then, he would let the shoshidai's troops continue the search for the outlaws while he followed the leads he'd kept to himself when he and Sano had agreed to work together.

Yanagisawa hastily shed his black ceremonial robes and donned the faded indigo cotton kimono, blue trousers, and straw sandals he wore for martial arts practice. The clothes were right, but he looked too clean. Going outside to the garden, he rubbed dirt on his garments. And he needed something to conceal his face. Then he noticed a gardener staring at him in puzzlement. The gardener wore a frayed wicker hat, bleached by the sun.

"Give me your hat," Yanagisawa ordered.

The gardener obeyed. Yanagisawa put on the hat, went back into his room, fastened his swords at his waist, and stood in front of the mirror. He gave his reflection a sardonic smile. With his battered face and raffish costume, he looked like a disreputable ronin.

"Perfect," he murmured.

He slipped out the back gate of Nijo Castle. His pulse quickened with the same thrill he'd experienced during the raid on Lord Ibe's house yesterday, which had whetted his appet.i.te for detective work.

Once out in the street, however, Yanagisawa began to doubt the wisdom of his venture. He felt small and defenseless without his entourage. Pa.s.sing samurai gave him disdainful glances. Commoners made way for him, but no one offered the lavish displays of respect usually accorded him.

"Clear the road! Clear the road!"

The tramp of hooves and marching feet accompanied the shouted orders. Pedestrians scurried to the roadside. Yanagisawa looked down Marutamachi Avenue and saw a procession coming toward him. Soldiers and mounted officials escorted Shoshidai Matsudaira, who rode a black steed.

"Get out of the way! What's the matter, are you deaf?"

A soldier pushed Yanagisawa aside. As the procession pa.s.sed, angry consternation filled him. That the troops of a subordinate should treat him so rudely! And the shoshidai hadn't even noticed him. His disguise negated his rank and power. Chastened, he hurried on his way, hoping he wouldn't encounter anyone else he knew.

When he reached the Imperial Palace, he walked east on Imadegawa Avenue to a rear gate used by tradesmen. At a guardhouse, a sentry received deliveries. This, according to Hoshina, was where Lady Jokyoden's mysterious visitor brought messages every day at this time. Not that Yanagisawa trusted Hoshina's word. Not that he believed he would actually see the elusive young man known only as Hiro, who probably had nothing to do with the murders or conspiracy even if he existed. But the visitor represented one of two clues that Yanagisawa had and Sano didn't.

Yanagisawa strolled, mingling with other pedestrians while covertly watching the gate. Porters delivered loads of charcoal and produce. Across the street from the palace, Yanagisawa went to a tiny restaurant that offered a good view. He sat on the raised wooden floor, as far from the other customers as possible; they were all filthy laborers who might have fleas. A toothless old woman hobbled over to wait on him.

"A bowl of noodles and some tea," Yanagisawa said without taking his gaze off the palace gate.

More porters brought more goods to the imperial compound. Soon Yanagisawa's meal came. The tea tasted like weeds in stagnant water; the noodles were mushy. How could anyone cat such slop? Yanagisawa pretended to sip his tea while time dragged, other diners came and went, and more provisions arrived at the palace. The steam and food odors from the restaurant kitchen made him hot and queasy. Then, just when he was ready to give up hope, a lone figure approached the gate.

It was a dapper young man dressed in a brown-and-black checked kimono, his hair in a topknot. As Hoshina had said, he looked to be a member of the lower merchant cla.s.s. He carried a cylindrical red scroll case. Yanagisawa leaned forward for a better look. The man stopped at the guardhouse and spoke to the sentry. Yanagisawa, who had excellent vision and had mastered the art of lipreading, easily discerned the man's words: I have a message for the Honorable Lady Jokyoden.

The gate opened, and a n.o.blewoman of elegant, dignified appearance came out. She took the scroll case, bowed, and went back inside the palace. The gate closed.

Yanagisawa could hardly contain his elation. Hoshina hadn't lied to him about this, at least. He concentrated on the messenger, who leaned against the palace wall, awaiting Jokyoden's reply. Who was he? A secret lover? Maybe Jokyoden had killed Left Minister Konoe because he'd discovered the affair and intended to tell her husband. The man had an intelligent expression, but his face was homely, with protruding teeth. Yanagisawa hoped that the mysterious visits had nothing to do with love and everything to do with the conspiracy to overthrow the Tokugawa regime.

After a short while, the gate opened again. The woman handed the scroll case back to the messenger, who bowed his thanks. Yanagisawa resisted the impulse to rush across the street, arrest the man, and confiscate the message. If it turned out to have nothing to do with the murder case, he would look a worse fool than he did already.

The messenger trotted down the street. Yanagisawa rose to follow, but the toothless crone who'd served his meal hurried over to him. "You owe five zeni!" she screeched, blocking his way.

Yanagisawa stared blankly at her. He never carried money; his staff always paid his expenses. Now the crone's shrieks were attracting an audience. He saw the back of Lady Jokyoden's messenger rapidly moving away. Yanagisawa drew his sword and waved it at the woman. "I'm not paying for that garbage. Get out of my way!"

The woman obeyed, but shouted curses at him as he ran down Imadegawa Avenue. His quarry ducked into a side street. Dodging a peddler laden with baskets, Yanagisawa followed. The messenger entered a maze of alleys where hanging laundry bridged the narrow gap between balconies. His route zigzagged, avoiding main streets. He constantly looked sideways and backward. Was he carrying orders from Jokyoden to the outlaws? Would he lead the way to their hiding place?

As he threaded between food stalls around a shrine, chasing the messenger, Yanagisawa's blood raced with an intoxicating energy. Anonymous, unhampered by a huge entourage or formal garb, he felt as swift and invisible as the wind. Anyone else would have lost the messenger by now, but Yanagisawa had no trouble keeping up. With the same intuition that helped him predict other men's moves in the game of politics, he antic.i.p.ated the abrupt turns that had foiled the palace guards who had tried to follow the messenger. He'd always had a good sense of direction; he could picture the route superimposed on a map of Miyako. They were in the main commercial district. Wherever he ended up, he could guide troops there to arrest the rebels. In this secret pursuit, he unexpectedly achieved the heightened awareness sought by devotees of Bushido. The samurai spirit in him expanded, and the search for clues seemed more gratifying than sabotaging a rival.

The messenger ducked into a pa.s.sage barely wide enough for three men to walk abreast. Vertical signs protruded from shops. Many bore crests featuring the scales used for weighing gold: This was a district of bankers. Merchants strolled, accompanied by samurai bodyguards and clerks carrying ledgers and cash boxes. Suddenly the messenger vanished into a shop. Puzzled, Yanagisawa halted. This didn't look like a place where outlaws would gather, or hide illegal weapons. Jokyoden's messenger must have spotted him and run through the shop to evade him.

Yanagisawa hurried forward. The shop's sign read "Daikoku Bank"-named after the G.o.d of fortune. Yanagisawa peered into the narrow storefront. He heard the jingle of coins, rapid clicks, and loud conversation as clerks counted money, totaled sums on the beads of their soroban, and negotiated with customers. The clerks wore the same brown-and-black uniform that Yanagisawa had followed from the Imperial Palace. With relief he spied his quarry showing the scroll case to the elderly proprietor, who sat on a platform, weighing gold ingots on a balance. Proprietor and messenger walked through a doorway leading to the back room, with the scroll. Yanagisawa sped around the block and down the alley behind the shop. He had to find out what the scroll said and what the bank had to do with Lady Jokyoden.

The alley was lined with malodorous privies; stray dogs rooted in fetid garbage containers. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Yanagisawa edged up to the back window of the bank. Inside he saw a dim office furnished with shelves and iron chests. The messenger and proprietor were seated on the floor.

Opening the scroll case, the messenger removed a doc.u.ment, spread it on a table, and scanned columns of fine calligraphy. "She's pleased with our service."

"She should be," the proprietor said. "By paying better exchange rates than other shops, we've attracted more customers. Our investments in local businesses have paid an excellent return. We've been hired to handle the Miyako finances of the great Matsui merchant clan, for a large commission. We store the rice stipends of Lord Kii's retainers in our warehouse, and we'll collect large fees for converting the rice to cash. Profits are up ten percent over last year. By next year, we'll be ready to open a branch in Osaka."

Yanagisawa wasn't interested in the bank's performance or the money-grubbing ambitions of its owner. The smell in the alley nauseated him. He strained to read the scroll, but the writing was small and the distance too great.

"What are her orders?" the proprietor asked.

Now we're getting somewhere, Yanagisawa thought. Perhaps the bank served as an intermediary between Jokyoden and the rebels. He waited to hear her plans for a siege of Miyako.

The messenger read aloud from the scroll, " 'Buy two hundred loads of lumber. Buy a thousand loads of coal, two thousand of soybeans, and three thousand vats of oil.'

Jokyoden must be laying in supplies to build a fort and provision an army.

'Buy ten loads each of copper and silver.'

She would also need to pay her troops, Yanagisawa guessed. Exhilaration filled him. Even if he hadn't located the outlaws or weapons, he was collecting evidence that tied Jokyoden to the conspiracy.

"A wise decision to buy now," said the proprietor. "I predict that the prices of those commodities will rise soon."

Maybe Jokyoden was also speculating on prices as a means of raising funds for the revolt. Yanagisawa savored the fact that he, not Sano, had made this discovery. And if Jokyoden was guilty, then Hoshina was not....

" 'Transfer five hundred koban to her personal account,' " read the messenger.

Was this a loan to finance the revolt? If Jokyoden would incur such a large debt in addition to her lavish spending, she must be seriously committed to restoring the Imperial Court to supremacy. Her nerve impressed Yanagisawa. Had she killed Left Minister Konoe because he'd discovered her illicit deals?

Still, her gender prevented Yanagisawa from believing in Jokyoden's guilt. Although he knew she managed court affairs with the authority of a male official and he'd found this new evidence of her bold, unfeminine ambition, he couldn't picture Jokyoden stalking him through the palace compound. He couldn't imagine any woman possessing the power of kiai.

Suddenly two huge samurai came running down the alley toward him from opposite directions. They seized Yanagisawa, ripped off his swords, and flung him facedown on the filthy ground. A heavy foot pressed down on his neck. The door opened, and the proprietor's voice demanded, "Why were you loitering around my office?"

"Let me up!" Yanagisawa ordered, furious. The bank's staff must have spotted him out front, become suspicious, and sent guards after him. "Do you know who I am?"

"A would-be bank robber, I bet." A pair of sandaled feet, topped by bare legs and a short kimono, came into Yanagisawa's view. This man carried a jitte- the parrying weapon used by the police. "You're under arrest."

The doshin's a.s.sistants bound Yanagisawa's wrists, dragged him to his feet, and hustled him down the alley. "If you don't release me at once," Yanagisawa raged, "you'll be sorry. I'm the shogun's second-in-command!"

"Sure you are," the doshin scoffed. "We'll just take a walk down to police headquarters and sort this all out."

29.

After leaving Lady Jokyoden, Sano went to the imperial consorts' residence. Lady Asagao was no longer a suspect, but he needed to resolve some unfinished business concerning her.

He found Asagao reclining on cushions on the shady veranda of the residence. Ladies-in-waiting plied large fans to create a cooling breeze around her. Clad in layered pastel robes, Asagao wore her hair in a limp plait. A physician dressed in a long dark blue coat fed her potions from ceramic bowls. When Sano climbed the veranda steps, she turned toward him. Apprehension pinched her round face, which looked sallow and plain in the absence of her usual makeup. Her attendants eyed Sano with distrust. The physician glowered.

"Lady Asagao must not be disturbed," he said. "The ordeal of imprisonment has weakened her health. To recover, she needs rest and quiet."

Sano knelt by Asagao, bowed, and said, "Your Highness, I apologize for your ordeal. It was an abominable mistake, and I beg your forgiveness." That Chamberlain Yanagisawa had manipulated them both into the false arrest hardly diminished the guilt he felt toward Asagao. "However, I must request your a.s.sistance. Will you be so kind as to answer a few questions?"

The emperor's consort pouted. "Why should I?" she said sullenly.

Why indeed, thought Sano. She didn't need to defend herself against further accusations, and she had no reason to voluntarily help someone who'd torn her away from her home and imprisoned her. The law permitted intimidation and torture to extort information from witnesses, but Sano didn't want to inflict more suffering on Lady Asagao or further antagonize the Imperial Court, so he must give her a different incentive to cooperate.

"I've discovered a plot to overthrow the Tokugawa regime," Sano said. "The plot is almost certainly connected with the murders. It's imperative that I catch the killer before he or she can kill again or bring war upon j.a.pan. His Majesty the Emperor and your father are still under investigation."

Sano paused to let Asagao absorb his words, then said, "More mistakes could occur. Another innocent person might be subjected to the same treatment as yourself. Wouldn't you like to prevent that?"

Asagao squirmed on the cushions; her eyes darted like minnows trying to escape a fishing net. She might not possess great intelligence, but Sano perceived in her a natural cunning. She'd understood his implied threat to punish her kin unless she cooperated. Now she cast a pleading glance at her companions and made a weak attempt to sit up.

"I don't feel well," she whined. "Take me inside."

The physician and ladies-in-waiting moved to help her, but Sano steeled himself against letting Asagao use her illness to escape him. "Leave us," he told her attendants.

They reluctantly obeyed. Asagao cowered on the cushions, fearful yet defiant. Sano said, "Let's talk about the night Left Minister Konoe died. You told my wife that you were with your ladies-in-waiting. Later they admitted that you'd sneaked out to meet someone. Which is the truth?" Although he didn't really believe that determining Asagao's whereabouts would solve the case, unanswered questions bothered Sano. "Where were you?"

Asagao said, "I was in the tea ceremony cottage. With my father."

Sano recognized the story that Right Minister Ichijo had told Chamberlain Yanagisawa. He also knew that Yoriki Hoshina had established that the cottage had been occupied by a pair of lovers, and therefore not by Ichijo and Asagao. Obviously, Ichijo had instructed his daughter to corroborate his lie. She'd provided her father with the alibi she no longer needed. The probable reason behind her deception gave Sano an idea how to turn Asagao's motives to his advantage.

"Were you ever present when your father counseled the emperor?" Sano asked.

"Sometimes." A puzzled frown wrinkled the consort's brow.

"What did they talk about?"

"I don't remember. Court business, I suppose. I didn't pay much attention." Asagao spoke with eager nervousness, as if hoping that ignorance would safeguard her until she could figure out where the conversation was heading.

"Did His Majesty talk about past emperors who had tried to overthrow military regimes?" Sano said. "Did he ever express the desire to do the same.'

Shocked comprehension dawned in Asagao's eyes. She sat up and blurted, "No. Never."

"His Majesty wants to rule j.a.pan, doesn't he?" Sano said. "He not only fights make-believe battles; he's planning a real one. Did he tell you that he's been bringing weapons into Miyako and recruiting soldiers for a war against the Tokugawa?"

"He wouldn't do that!" Asagao cried.

"Wouldn't he?" Sano said, wondering if Asagao was really surprised, or if she'd already known about the conspiracy. "His Majesty is bored by his sheltered life. He's puffed up with conceit and dreams of glory. But plotting a coup is treason. For such a serious crime, not even an emperor can escape death."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Panic shone in Asagao's eyes. "Tomo-chan would never try to overthrow the bakufu!"

Whether she was lying didn't matter; it wasn't Sano's intention to gain evidence against Tomohito right now. The emperor was just bait for a trap. "Yesterday the soldiers and weapons were in a house belonging to Lord Ibe of Echizen Province. Did His Majesty ever mention it?"

"No!"

"Did Left Minister Konoe discover His Majesty's plans?" Sano said. "Did His Majesty know that Konoe was a spy, and fear that Konoe would report his crime?" Now came the time to spring the trap. "Where was His Majesty on the night of Konoe's murder?"

"Tomo-chan wasn't in the garden. He didn't kill the left minister!" Asagao's desperate gaze sought help, but the courtyard was empty and still in the hot sunshine, and the building behind her as silent as if everyone had deserted it. In the trees, insects shrilled; a bird shrieked.

"How could you know where His Majesty was, when you were in the tea cottage with your father?" Sano rose and stood over Asagao. "That same story can't provide alibis for both men. It looks as though I'll be charging one or the other with treason and murder. You can help me decide which."

"No!" Asagao tried to rise, but her legs tangled in her robes, and she fell against the cushions, helpless.

"Of course you want to save your father," Sano said, hating what he must do to the consort. "He gave you life; he fed and sheltered you during your childhood. You wouldn't like to see him hurt, and it's your duty to protect him. But what about your duty to the emperor? His alibis for both murders are weak. He needs you to point my suspicion away from him... toward somebody else."

"Please leave me alone," Asagao implored. Sweat beaded her face; her pale lips trembled. "Don't make me do this!"

Suppressing his pity for her, Sano said, "If His Majesty is found to have committed treason, a new emperor will take the throne and select a new chief consort. You'll lose your status and special privileges. You could become a lady-in-waiting to your replacement, or marry a n.o.ble who's willing to accept a cast-off consort as a wife. Or you could enter a nunnery." These options represented utter humiliation to a woman of Asagao's rank. "If that's what you want, then by all means cast your lot with your father. If not, then perhaps you should reconsider the wisdom of protecting him at the emperor's expense."

Sano let the echo of his harsh words die. He waited for Asagao to choose which of the two most important men in her life she would betray. Loath to incur the consequences of implicating j.a.pan's sacred sovereign in the crimes, Sano didn't want it to be Emperor Tomohito.

Asagao whimpered, hugging herself, "Where were you when Left Minister Konoe died?" Sano asked.

For a long while he thought Asagao's loyalty to her father would prevail. Then defeat drained the tension from her body; she began to weep. "I was in the tea cottage," she said, "but my father wasn't. I was with my friend Lord Gojo. We didn't want anyone to know about us, so when the policeman came around asking everybody where they'd been that night, Gojo said he was with a friend he bribed to lie for him."

A connection clicked in Sano's mind. Lord Gojo was the man whom Reiko had watched flirting with Asagao in the Kabuki play. She'd been having an affair with him, not Left Minister Konoe. Asagao and Lord Gojo had been the two lovers in the tea cottage. She'd had an alibi she hadn't wanted to use because it would have exposed her infidelity to Emperor Tomohito.

"I only said my father was with me because he asked me to." Tears streamed down Asagao's face; she wiped them on her sleeve. "I never saw him that night."

She'd rejected the ties of blood for those of s.e.x and power, sacrificing her father to protect Tomohito. Yet Sano felt no pleasure at breaking Right Minister Ichijo's alibi. He hated himself for manipulating Asagao. The pursuit of justice too often required the basest means.

"Thank you, Lady Asagao," Sano said, adding, "I'm sorry."

Her bitter glare burned him. Shamed and depressed, he went to the door and called Asagao's attendants. As they led her into the building, she turned to Sano. Between ragged sobs, she said, "My father wasn't in the Pond Garden when the left minister died, but I know who was."

A desperate guile shone in her reddened eyes. Sano had half-expected her to shield Ichijo by accusing someone else. Now, as she gasped for breath, he waited to see whom she would incriminate.

"It was the left minister's former wife."

"What?" Shock resonated through Sano. Kozeri, in the palace on the night of Konoe's death? But Kozeri had an alibi-or did she? She hadn't been at the scene of Aisu's murder-or had she? Now Sano realized that this was the vital information he'd forgotten to obtain from Kozeri. Had his attraction to her rendered him so negligent? Sano unhappily acknowledged the possibility, but a kernel of doubt formed in his mind. It burgeoned into suspicion, then anger as he realized what Kozeri had done.

Asagao laughed, an ugly chortle. "Kozeri fooled you, didn't she? Before the left minister died, I overheard him giving orders to his a.s.sistants. Ask Kozeri why he wanted the Pond Garden to himself that night. Ask her why she was there."

Sano grabbed Asagao's shoulders. "You tell me!" he commanded.

She looked disdainfully up at him. "Ask Kozeri how her first husband died. Ask her if she killed the left minister. Then ask her where she was when that other man died." As the attendants bore Lady Asagao away, her mocking laughter drifted back to Sano.