Sano Ichiro 9 The Perfumed Sleeve (2004) by Laura Joh Rowland

Author:Laura Joh Rowland [Rowland, Laura Joh]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Laura Joh Rowland
Published: 2004-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

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20

The building was a commonplace two-story wooden structure, located in the Nihonbashi merchant district, on a street that paralleled the nearby rice warehouses along the Sumida River. Bamboo shades screened the balcony; shutters covered the windows. A short blue curtain hung over the recessed doorway, where two soldiers whose armor bore the crest of the Matsudaira clan stood guard. Opposite were run-down shops and teahouses, the doors closed over their storefronts. A crowd of townspeople had gathered outside the building. In the sky, a faint ruddy glow in the east presaged dawn. Lanterns shone at neighborhood gates at either end of the street. As Sano rode through a gate with Marume, Fukida, and three other detectives, the crowd parted to let them pass. They dismounted outside the building.

“What is this place?” Marume said.

“It’s a house of assignation,” Sano said. He remembered the house from his days as a police commander of this district. “Lovers come here to engage in illicit affairs. It’s called the Sign of Bedazzlement.”

Here, in this seedy, disreputable place, had died Daiemon, the ambitious upstart of the Matsudaira faction and heir apparent to the shogun.

Sano, Marume, and Fukida climbed the steps and went into the house. The sounds of men muttering and women crying greeted them. The house’s proprietor, a frightened old man, huddled in the entryway.

Beyond this, more Matsudaira troops stood along a lamp-lit passage. Police Commissioner Hoshina came striding down the passage toward Sano and the detectives.

“Sōsakan-sama. What are you doing here?” Hoshina said in a tone that branded Sano as a trespasser.

“I heard that Daiemon was murdered,” Sano said. “I’ve come to investigate.”

Hoshina spread his arms, planted his hands on the walls of the passage, and blocked Sano’s way. “There’s no need. My officers have already begun inquiries. This is police business.” And none of yours, said his hostile expression.

“Daiemon was a suspect in a crime that the shogun ordered me to investigate,” Sano said. Hoshina never ceased his petty squabbling over what crimes comprised whose territory. He grasped every chance to enlarge his sphere of authority and diminish Sano’s. The war between the factions had only aggravated his sense of rivalry. “That makes his murder my business.”

Indecision broke Hoshina’s gaze; he seemed to recall that Lord Matsudaira, his master, needed as many allies as possible and particularly wanted Sano. “Very well,” he said grudgingly.

He let Sano and the detectives pass, but he dogged their heels as they moved down the corridor, which was lined with dim chambers enclosed by wooden partitions. Through the open doors of several chambers Sano saw couples, shamefaced and disheveled, guarded by Lord Matsudaira’s troops. Sano recognized an army official and a prominent banker. Although Hoshina was more interested in politics than in police practice, at least he’d trapped the potential witnesses.

“He’s in the last room on the left,” Hoshina said.

Sano preceded Marume and Fukida into the room. More troops loitered against walls painted with crude, gaudy landscape murals. A cold draft wavered the flame inside a torn paper lantern suspended from the ceiling.

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