Laura Joh Rowland - Sano Ichiro v07 The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria.pdf

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Laura Joh Rowland - Sano Ichiro 07 - Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria
Japan
Genroku Period, Year 6, Month 11
(December 1693)
Prologue
"Virtuous men have said, both in poetry and classic works, that houses
of debauch, for women of pleasure and for street-walkers, are the
worm-eaten spots of cities and towns. But these are necessary evils, and
if they be forcibly abolished, men of unrighteous principles will become
like raveled thread."
-FROM THE SEVENTY-THIRD SECTION OF THE LEGACY OF
THE FIRST TOKUGAWA SHOGUN
Northwest of the great capital of Edo, isolated among marshes and rice
paddies, the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter adorned the winter night like a
flashy jewel. Its lights formed a bright, smoky halo above the high walls;
the moon's reflection shimmered silver on the encircling moat. Inside the
quarter, colored lanterns blazed along the eaves of the teahouses and
brothels that lined the streets. Courtesans dressed in gaudy kimono sat
in the barred windows of the brothels and called invitations to men who
strolled in search of entertainment. Roving vendors sold tea and
dumplings, and a hawker beckoned customers into a shop that sold
paintings of the most beautiful prostitutes, but the late hour and chill
weather had driven most of the trade indoors. Teahouse maids poured
sake; drunken customers raised their voices in bawdy song. Musicians
played for guests at banquets in elegant parlors, while amorous couples
embraced behind windows.
The man in an upstairs guest chamber on Ageyacho Street lay oblivious
to the revelry. A drunken stupor immobilized him on the bed, which
seemed to rock and sway beneath him. Singing, samisen music, and
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laughter from the parlor downstairs echoed up to him in waves of
discordant sound. Through his half-open eyes he saw red lights glide and
spin, like reflections in a whirlpool. A painted landscape of gardens slid
along the periphery of his vision. Dizzy and nauseated, he moaned. He
tried to recall where he was and how he'd gotten here.
He had a faint memory of a ride through winter fields, and cups of
heated sake. A woman's beautiful face glowed in lamplight, eyes
demurely downcast. More sake accompanied flirtatious conversation.
Next came the hot, urgent intertwining of bodies, then ecstatic pleasure,
followed by much more drink. Because he possessed a hearty tolerance
for liquor, he couldn't understand how the usual amount had so
thoroughly inebriated him. A peculiar lethargy spread through his veins.
He felt strangely disconnected from his body, which seemed heavy as
stone, yet afloat on air. A pang of fear chimed in his groggy
consciousness, but the stupor dulled emotion. While he tried to fathom
what had happened to him, he sensed that he wasn't alone in the room.
Someone's rapid footsteps trod the tatami around the bed. The moving
hems of multicolored robes swished air currents across his face.
Whispers, distorted into eerie, droning gibberish, pervaded the distant
music. Now he saw, bending over him, a human figure-a dark, indistinct
shape outlined by the revolving red light. The whispers quickened and
rose to a keening pitch. He sensed danger that shot alarm through his
stupor. But his body resisted his effort to move. The lethargy paralyzed
his limbs. His mouth formed a soundless plea.
The figure leaned closer. Its fist clenched what looked to be a long, thin
shaft that wavered in his blurry vision. Then the figure struck at him with
sudden violence. Pain seared deep into his left eye, rousing him to
alertness. A squeal of agony burst from him. Music, laughter, and
screaming rose to a cacophonous din. Turbulent shadows rocked the
chamber. He saw a brilliant white lightning bolt blaze through his brain,
heard his heart thunder in his ears. The impact heaved up his arms and
legs, which flailed as his body convulsed in involuntary spasms. But the
terrible pain in his eye pinned him to the bed. Blood stained his vision
scarlet, obliterated the person whose grip on the shaft held him captive.
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His head pounded with torment. Gradually, his struggles weakened; his
heartbeat slowed. Sounds and sensations ebbed, until black
unconsciousness quenched the lightning and death ended his agony.
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The summons came at dawn.
Edo Castle, reigning upon its hilltop above the city, raised its watch-
towers and peaked roofs toward a sky like steel coated with ice. Inside
the castle, two of the shogun's attendants and their soldiers sped on
horseback between barracks surrounding the mansions where the high
officials of the court resided. A chill, gusty wind flapped the soldiers'
banners and tore the smoke from their lanterns. The party halted outside
the gate of Sano Ichiro, the shogun's sosakan-sama-Most Honorable
Investigator of Events, Situations, and People.
Within his estate, Sano slept beneath mounded quilts. He dreamed he
was at the Black Lotus Temple, scene of a crime he'd investigated three
months ago. Deranged monks and nuns fought him and his troops;
explosions boomed and fire raged. Yet even as Sano wielded his sword
against phantoms of memory, his senses remained attuned to the real
world and perceived the approach of an actual threat. He bolted awake
in darkness, flung off the quilts, and sat up in the frigid air of his
bedchamber.
Beside him, his wife, Reiko, stirred. "What is it?" she asked sleepily.
Then they heard, outside their door, the voice of Sano's chief retainer,
Hirata: "Sosakan-sama, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the shogun's
envoys are here on urgent business. They wish to see you at once."
Moments later, after hastily dressing, Sano was seated in the reception
hall with the two envoys. A maid served bowls of tea. The senior envoy,
a dignified samurai named Ota, said, "We bring news of a serious
incident that requires your personal attention. His Excellency the
Shogun's cousin, the Honorable Lord Matsudaira Mitsuyoshi, has died.
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As you are undoubtedly aware, he was not just kin to the shogun, but
his probable successor."
The shogun had no sons as yet; therefore, a relative must be designated
heir to his position as Japan's supreme dictator in case he died without
issue. Sano had known that Mitsuyoshi-twenty-five years old and a
favorite of the shogun-was a likely candidate.
Ota continued, "Mitsuyoshi-san spent yesterday evening in Yoshiwara."
This was Edo's pleasure quarter, the only place in the city where
prostitution was legal. Men from all classes of society went there to
drink, revel, and enjoy the favors of the courtesans-women sold into
prostitution by impoverished families, or sentenced to work in
Yoshiwara as punishment for crimes. The quarter was located some
distance from Edo, to safeguard public morals and respect propriety.
"There he was stabbed to death."
Consternation struck Sano: This was serious indeed, for any attack on a
member of the ruling Tokugawa clan constituted an attack on the regime,
which was high treason. And the murder of someone so close to the
shogun represented a crime of the most sensitive nature.
"May I ask what were the circumstances of the stabbing?" Sano said.
"The details are not known to us," said the younger envoy, a brawny
captain of the shogun's bodyguards. "It is your responsibility to discover
them. The shogun orders you to investigate the murder and apprehend
the killer."
"I'll begin immediately." As Sano bowed to the envoys, duty settled upon
his shoulders like a weight that he wasn't sure he could bear. Though
detective work was his vocation and his spirit required the challenge of
delivering killers to justice, he wasn't ready for another big case. The
Black Lotus investigation had depleted him physically and mentally. He
felt like an injured warrior heading into battle again before his wounds
had healed. And he knew that this case had as serious a potential for
disaster as had the Black Lotus.
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