The Samurai's Wife Part 17

Sano saw his earlier fears realized: Through his investigation, he'd seriously offended these people. By worsening the age-old tension between the Imperial Court and the bakufu, he risked upsetting j.a.pan's balance of power. He-and Reiko, who'd precipitated the crisis-could expect punishment from the shogun if he continued this way. Yet he saw no alternative.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he said politely, "but justice takes precedence over court rules. I have orders to investigate Left Minister Konoe's death, and I must find out the truth about it. I'm not accusing Lady Asagao of any wrongdoing. I just want to know how the blood got on her clothes." Sano turned to Asagao. "Your Highness?"

She looked at him as though he'd spoken in a language she didn't understand.

"You've frightened her so badly that she can't talk," the emperor said.

"Sosakan-sama, there's obviously been a mistake. You seem to be suggesting that Lady Asagao soiled her clothes while killing the left minister. Yet we don't even know if those are in fact her clothes." Ichijo attempted to defend his daughter in a controlled, reasonable voice. "The stains may not even be the left minister's blood."

"Someone else could have put the stained robes in Lady Asagao's room," said Lady Jokyoden.

Sano had considered these possibilities. Now he noted that the three people trying to protect Lady Asagao had reason to do as Jokyoden suggested, to divert suspicion toward Asagao and away from them. But although he sympathized with the confused young woman, he needed to hear her story.

"Are they not your clothes, Your Highness?" Sano said gently.

Instead of answering, Asagao gazed at a point somewhere beyond him.

"Did someone hide them in your cabinet?"

No reply came. The emperor muttered angrily; the n.o.bles watched Sano, their faces and postures rigid. Weak sunlight cast the wind-stirred shadows of trees against the paper walls, but in the reception hall, no one moved.

Then Asagao bowed her head and spoke in a trembling, barely audible voice: "They're mine. I wore them the night Left Minister Konoe died. I killed him."

The frozen vacuum of silence filled the room. Emperor Tomohito's mouth dropped; shock blanched the elegant features of Right Minister Ichijo and Lady Jokyoden; the n.o.bles stared. Then everyone spoke at once.

"No! You couldn't!" Scrambling to the edge of his dais, the emperor grabbed his consort by the shoulders and shook her. "Why do you say such a thing? Take it back before you get in trouble!"

The n.o.bles murmured anxiously among themselves. Ichijo said, "Speak no more, daughter." Panic shone through his controlled manner as he turned to Sano. "She's not in her right mind. Don't believe what she says."

"You've intimidated her into saying what you want to hear," Jokyoden said. "Now she's distraught and ill. We must take her to her room and call a physician."

The group rose, except for Asagao, who knelt with eyes downcast and arms clasped around her stomach.

"Sit down!" Sano ordered. He hated to antagonize the Imperial Court any further, but he had to reestablish control over the situation. "No one leaves this room."

Soldiers blocked the doors. The emperor, Jokyoden, Ichijo, and the rest reluctantly resumed their places. Sano perceived fear beneath their infuriated expressions. In the uneasy quiet that ensued, he focused his attention on Lady Asagao.

Cowering on the floor, she appeared steeped in guilt. But although Sano had hoped for a quick solution to the murder case, Asagao's confession had come too easily, before he could even ask her if she'd killed Konoe. He still couldn't believe he'd explored the full scope of the case, and he wouldn't act on the confession until he made sure it was valid.

"Your Highness," he said, "you stated that you killed Left Minister Konoe. Is that correct?"

Asagao nodded.

"This is a very serious claim," Sano said. "Do you understand that it means you could be sentenced to death?"

Emperor Tomohito opened his mouth to speak, but Lady Jokyoden quelled him with a glance.

"I understand," Asagao whispered.

"In case you weren't telling the truth before," Sano said, "I'm giving you a chance to do so now. Did you kill Left Minister Konoe?"

Ichijo leaned toward Asagao, his gaze intense, as if willing her to speak the words that would save her. A strangled sound of protest came from the emperor. Jokyoden and the n.o.bles waited and watched, motionless.

"It was the truth." Asagao spoke louder, but in a dull voice barren of conviction. "I killed him."

Sano inhaled a deep breath, held it a moment, then let the air ease from him. He'd shown more consideration toward Lady Asagao than the law required, yet he still wasn't satisfied.

"Why did you kill the left minister?" he said.

"I was angry at him."

"Look at me, Your Highness."

Asagao raised her face to Sano. Her mouth trembled.

"Why were you angry?" Sano said patiently.

"He had been paying attention to me since last spring. He gave me gifts and compliments. He was so handsome and charming, I fell in love with him." Asagao continued in the same dull monotone; her eyes kept darting sideways. "A few months ago, when he wanted to make love to me, I let him."

"No!" Emperor Tomohito stared at his consort in wounded fury. "You're mine. You aren't supposed to have anybody else. And the left minister was my teacher-my friend. You both deceived me!"

With a howl, he struck out at Asagao. His palm smote her head. She rocked sideways. Tomohito retreated to the back of his dais, where he knelt, his back to everyone. His shoulders quaked with angry, m.u.f.fled sobs.

Ichijo shook his head, dazed. The n.o.bles exchanged horrified glances. Belatedly, Sano looked to see Jokyoden's reaction. Her expression was calm.

As if no interruption had occurred, Asagao continued, "The left minister and I met whenever we could." She gave Sano a strained, pleading smile. "But then I found out he seduced me because he wanted to separate me from the emperor. He was going to say that I was the one who seduced him, so Tomo-chan would get jealous and drop me. The left minister's youngest daughter is Tomo-chan's second favorite lady. She would have been promoted to chief consort. The left minister was Tomo-chan's idol; Tomo-chan would have forgiven him for making love to me. He would have ended up with even more power over the court. But I didn't want to give up my position. I couldn't let the left minister tell anyone about us. So I killed him."

This scenario gave Asagao a stronger motive for murder than the quarrel over money that she'd mentioned to Reiko. But Sano realized that an affair between Asagao and Konoe also cast stronger suspicion in other directions.

"Who knew about this affair?" Sano asked.

"Only the left minister's personal attendants. They carried messages between us and arranged our meetings."

The n.o.bles whispered among themselves. Sano eyed Emperor Tomohito, who'd stopped weeping and sat with his head half-turned, listening to the conversation. Maybe his shock at the news of his consort's infidelity was just an act. What if he'd already known that Konoe had seduced Asagao? Jealous temper could have spurred him to murder. Yet Sano could think of someone else besides Asagao who would have suffered if Konoe made the affair public. Someone besides Emperor Tomohito who might have lashed out at Konoe.

Sano contemplated Right Minister Ichijo. Before Konoe died, Ichijo had been the second highest imperial official. Had the two men been rivals? If Konoe had intended to attack Ichijo by ousting Asagao, then his death would have preserved Ichijo's status. And after the murder, Ichijo had become the top court official. The affair and resulting scandal would have hurt him more than Lady Jokyoden, whose position in the court didn't depend on her son's choice of consort, or Prince Momozono, who had no part in imperial politics.

The right minister met Sano's gaze. Sudden wariness sharpened his aspect, as if he sensed a threat. Sano knew that Ichijo wasn't a suspect; Yoriki Hos.h.i.+na's report had placed him at home, in the presence of his family and attendants, at the time of the murder. Just the same, Sano wondered whether Ichijo merited investigation.

"How did you know that Left Minister Konoe meant to betray you?" Sano asked Asagao.

"I overheard his attendants talking," she said. "They praised him for the cleverness of his plan and laughed at me for being stupid enough to fall for it."

Sano heard a rising inflection at the end of her sentences, as though she wanted him to verify their accuracy. "Tell me what happened the night Left Minister Konoe died," he said.

"It was soon after I found out what the left minister was doing to me. I got a message from him, asking me to go to the Pond Garden at midnight. I saw my chance to get rid of him before he could ruin me. So I went to the garden early and waited for him. When he came, I followed him to the cottage." Asagao had begun speaking faster and faster as she went along; now she ended in a rush: "Then I killed him. I heard people coming, and I was in such a hurry to get away that I accidentally stepped in his blood."

Her story had a convincing logic that established Asagao's motive for the crime and opportunity to kill Konoe; it explained the bloodstained clothes, her lack of an alibi, and why Konoe had gone to the garden after ordering the palace residents to stay away. However, questions remained in Sano's mind.

"If you didn't want the emperor to find out about your affair with Left Minister Konoe, then why are you admitting to it now?" Sano said. "Why are you so eager to confess to murder, when the penalty is death?"

"Because murder is wrong. I'm sorry for what I did. To purify my spirit, I must pay for my crime." Again, that tentative, questioning note inflected Asagao's voice.

"Yesterday you told my wife you were glad the left minister died," Sano reminded her.

Asagao s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably. "I changed my mind."

"I see." Sano paused, thinking that if her story was a lie, it was a better one than he could imagine Asagao inventing by herself. "Was it your idea to confess?"

"Yes. Of course." The emperor's consort nodded vigorously, while everyone watched, alert and tense.

"Then no one told you what to say?"

"No. n.o.body did," Asagao said, looking away from Sano, then back again.

"You're not trying to protect someone by taking the blame for the murder?" Sano looked around the room at Ichijo, Jokyoden, and Tomohito.

"I resent your implication that I would have my daughter sacrifice herself to protect me," Ichijo said with haughty indignation. "I am not a murderer. Neither is she. That she says these things can only mean she has gone mad."

"I haven't gone mad!" Turning on her father with a vehemence that made him draw back from her, Asagao insisted, "I'm telling the truth. I killed the left minister."

"There's one way to settle the matter," Sano said. "Lady Asagao, I order you to demonstrate the spirit cry for me."

There was a moment of stunned quiet. Sano heard silk garments rustle with small, involuntary movements, and saw consternation on the faces around him.

Then Ichijo said scornfully, "This is ridiculous. My daughter isn't capable of any such thing."

"Since you obviously doubt that she killed the left minister, it is unnecessary and cruel to encourage her sick fantasies," Lady Jokyoden reproached Sano.

But expectancy charged the atmosphere in the room. Emperor Tomohito fixed his consort with a curious, fearful gaze. Interest animated the guards' usually stoic faces. Under everyone's scrutiny, Lady Asagao shrank into herself.

"Well, Your Highness?" Sano said. "I'm waiting."

"But I might hurt someone," Asagao protested weakly.

Sano rose, walked across the room, and slid open a wall panel. Outside, in the lush green garden, blackbirds perched on a fence. "You needn't use the full force of kiai. Just knock those birds unconscious."

Asagao squirmed, looking frightened. "It won't work. Not with everyone watching."

"You can't utter a spirit cry, can you?" Sano said, closing the wall panel. "Not now; not ever. And you didn't on the night Left Minister Konoe died."

"Of course she didn't," Ichijo said, his voice sharpened by desperation. "Tell the truth, daughter, before it's too late!"

She said defiantly, "I admit I killed the left minister. Isn't that enough?"

It was enough to convict her, because a confession was legal proof of guilt, and Sano was duty-bound to observe the law whether or not he believed she'd committed any crime. With great reluctance, he said, "If you stand by your confession, then I must arrest you."

He nodded to the soldiers, who advanced on Lady Asagao.

"No!" The harsh objection burst from Ichijo, while Jokyoden and the n.o.bles stared, aghast.

Emperor Tomohito leapt to his feet and off the dais. He stood, arms spread, between the soldiers and Lady Asagao. "You stay away from her!" Though he'd repudiated his consort, he apparently didn't want to give her up.

"Please stand aside, Your Majesty," Sano said, dreading a scene.

"I won't. You can't have her. You'll have to kill me first!" Childish rage contorted Tomohito's face.

The soldiers looked to Sano for guidance. He walked over and reached out a hand to the emperor.

"It's the law, Your Majesty. She chose to confess. Now she must go."

He hadn't touched Emperor Tomohito, but the young man sprang away as if Sano had struck him, yelling, "How dare you try to lay hands on me?" He stumbled backward and fell on his b.u.t.tocks.

The n.o.bles exclaimed in outrage: "Blasphemy!" "Sacrilege!" Tradition prohibited the emperor's body from touching the ground where ordinary people walked. Horror a.s.sailed Sano. He was responsible for Reiko's search of Lady Asagao's room, and now this worse insult to the Imperial Court. Instead of regaining the shogun's favor, he would be reviled for his poor handling of the investigation. Yet his orders compelled him to proceed.

"Take her," he told the troops.

When they grasped Lady Asagao by the arms, a look of sheer terror came over her face, as though she finally understood the consequences of her actions. Kicking and thras.h.i.+ng, she screamed in high-pitched bursts. The soldiers hauled her toward the door. Jokyoden, Ichijo, and the n.o.bles surrounded Sano.

"You shall not commit this atrocity," Jokyoden said.

Ichijo commanded, "Release my daughter at once!"

Did their efforts to help Lady Asagao hide a desire to see her blamed for the murder and themselves exonerated? Sano wondered.

"Father!" shrilled Asagao. "Don't let them take me!"

The emperor set upon the troops, trying to pry their hands off Asagao. "Somebody help me!"

Loud hoots signaled the arrival of Prince Momozono, who must have been listening outside. He lurched into the room and hurled himself at Sano, crying. "Y-you can't h-have His M-majesty's consort!"

Sano flung up his hands to repel the prince's wild blows. The n.o.bles hurried to their sovereign's aid. A melee of pus.h.i.+ng, shouting, and grabbing erupted, with the shrieking Lady Asagao at the center. Fearing that a riot might spread throughout the palace, Sano drew his sword. The crowd fell back amid cries of fear. Lady Asagao and the emperor broke into hysterical tears. With many doubts and no sense of victory, Sano led his men and their prisoner out of the room.

"Where are you taking her?" Right Minister Ichijo demanded, following them down the corridor. "A woman of her position doesn't belong in the city jail."

"Lady Asagao will be kept in a safe, comfortable place for a while," Sano said. He needed time to investigate her story.

"And then?"

"I'll take her to Edo for her trial."

Unless he found justification for his misgivings about Lady Asagao's confession.

13.