Free Claws of the Cat by Susan Spann

flowers.
    Okiya didn’t look at her companions. “No. We all had guests in the early evening, but the rest of our visitors left before midnight. I was the last one upstairs except for Sayuri. The others had already taken off their makeup and changed their kimono. We had tea and went to sleep.”
    “You heard nothing?”
    “Not until Sayuri screamed this morning.”
    “She screamed?”
    Before Okiya could answer the woman to her right said, “It was more like a yell.”
    The speaker was younger than Okiya, and clearly more impulsive. As soon as the words left her lips, she covered her mouth with her hand and looked down at the floor. Her blue kimono emphasized the embarrassed flush that spread across her cheeks.
    “Is there a difference?” Hiro asked.
    The woman in blue uncovered her mouth. “A real scream doesn’t have any words in it. Sayuri called for help.”
    “Riko is correct,” Okiya said. “It was more of a yell.”
    “Who went to help her?”
    “We all did,” Riko said, “but Mayuri blocked the door. She said it wasn’t something we should see.”
    “I’m glad I didn’t look,” said the woman on Okiya’s other side. “I don’t want angry ghosts haunting me.” Her hands shook and her pink kimono trembled.
    “Don’t be stupid, Yoko,” Riko said. “Ghosts don’t haunt you unless you do the killing.”
    “Do you want to chance it?” Yoko hugged herself, then recovered her composure and returned her hands to her lap.
    Riko shook her head and rolled her eyes.
    “Did any of you speak with Sayuri afterward?” Hiro asked.
    “Mayuri wouldn’t let us,” Riko said. When Okiya gave her a warning look, Riko added, “Well, she won’t, and she didn’t tell me not to say so.”
    “I wouldn’t go in that ghost room for anything,” Yoko said.
    “It’s not a ghost room,” Riko retorted. “Mayuri had it cleaned and the priests are coming to bless it this afternoon.”
    “Buddhist priests?” Yoko clutched her hands and looked nervously at the others.
    “Shinto too,” Okiya reassured her, “from Kamigamo Shrine.”
    Yoko still looked worried but managed a little smile.
    “Is there anything more we can tell you?” Okiya asked.
    “Who were your guests last night? Did they know Akechi Hideyoshi?”
    “I don’t think so,” Riko said. “Guests who know one another often combine their parties. It’s more fun that way. We play games and sing songs. Men like that.”
    “Our guests were not acquainted,” Okiya confirmed. “I entertained a silk merchant and his clients. They left about an hour before midnight.”
    “And you?” Hiro asked Riko.
    “I had a very early night. Magistrate Ishimaki fell asleep in his tea before the sun went down. His servants had to help him onto his horse.”
    “Magistrate Ishimaki was here last night?” Hiro asked.
    “Yes. He visits once a week, for dinner.” Riko’s eyebrows raised and her mouth formed a circle of surprise. She raised her hand to cover it and giggled. “But it’s not what you think. He’s much too old for a girl my age.”
    Hiro doubted most men would consider her age an issue but said nothing. Riko gave Okiya a questioning look. The older woman nodded.
    “Magistrate Ishimaki is my grandfather,” Riko said. “His son was my mother’s patron.”
    “Is Mayuri your mother?” Hiro asked.
    Entertainers often bore children out of wedlock. Most men would not flaunt tradition to marry a mistress, so the female children normally followed their mothers into the trade.
    “No,” Okiya said. “I am, though I thank you in advance for your discretion.”
    Hiro hid his surprise. Okiya did look older than her companions, but not old enough to have a daughter Riko’s age.
    “Of course.” After a pause he asked, “Did you see the magistrate too?”
    She shook her head. “He doesn’t dislike me, but I am not his blood. Truthfully, even his interest in Riko came as a surprise.”
    “Does he acknowledge her publicly?”
    “Oh, no.”