resulted in one of Yanagisawa’s most humiliating experiences. Since then, Yanagisawa’s fortunes had tended to rise or fall in opposition to Sano’s, as if they were counterweights attached to a pulley. Yanagisawa had become Sano’s biggest detractor and caused Sano as much grief as possible, until a later investigation, in Miyako nine years ago, had led to a truce between them. The truce had been convenient for Yanagisawa as his struggle against Lord Matsudaira began to demand all his attention. But now Yanagisawa hated himself for not crushing Sano when he’d had a chance, for letting Sano live to occupy a critical place on the chessboard that Yanagisawa wanted to dominate.
The truce was off, even though Sano didn’t know it yet.
“What has Sano discovered so far?” Yanagisawa asked.
“I don’t know. I left Edo before he reported to the shogun,” Yoritomo replied. “But he said Tadatoshi’s death smacked of foul play.”
Glad anticipation filled Yanagisawa. “If this is indeed a case of murder, then so much the better for us.”
“His murder investigations always land Sano in trouble,” Yoritomo said.
The suspects Sano identified were often powerful people. His efforts always put him at odds with them while making him a target of the killer.
“And he always faces the prospect of failure and losing the shogun’s esteem. But he has such a foolhardy dedication to pursuing truth and justice.” Yanagisawa couldn’t understand Sano’s readiness to endanger himself in the name of honor. “He never backs off, even when he’s threatened with demotion, exile, or death for him and his entire family, as he inevitably is. Not that I’m complaining.”
Sano’s sense of honor had always been Yanagisawa’s best weapon against Sano.
“What should we do?” Yoritomo said.
“For now, we wait and watch. Chances are, Sano will dig his own grave.”
“But if he doesn’t?”
Yanagisawa smiled. “I’ll think of something.”
“You always do, Father,” Yoritomo said with admiration.
Outside, the temple bell tolled the hour of the ox. Yoritomo rose. “I’d better go. The shogun will be wanting me.”
“You must keep him happy,” Yanagisawa cautioned. He hated pandering his beloved son to the shogun, but he had no choice. Neither had he had a choice when, many years ago, he’d seduced the shogun himself. His intimate relationship with the shogun had been a crucial defense against his enemies. Yoritomo’s would protect him until the day when he and Yanagisawa ruled Japan together. “We can’t afford to have him wonder where you are and put you under surveillance.”
As he let Yoritomo out the door, Yanagisawa said, “Keep me informed about Sano’s investigation.”
The flame of the lamp blazed its image into Reiko’s eyes as she stared at it. She knelt in her chamber, hands folded in her lap, the mauve and green patterned silk skirt of her robe fanned out around her like flower petals. Her beautiful face wore a still, intense expression. The cut on her cheek shone black in the dim light. The house was quiet, everyone else in it asleep. But Reiko had suffered from insomnia ever since Masahiro’s abduction, and having him back at home hadn’t ceased her late-night vigils.
She was keeping watch over the children, asleep in the adjacent chamber, in case an attack should come. She couldn’t bring herself to rely on the guards. She must be alert. As she devised strategies for protecting the children, she looked up to see Sano standing in the doorway.
“Did you just get home?” she asked with a forced smile.
“Yes. I had work to do. More emergencies, as usual.” Sano entered the room, knelt opposite her, and studied her with concern. “Are you feeling better?”
His gaze probed at the calm facade Reiko had donned for him. “I’m fine,” she said. But after almost ten years of marriage, they’d grown so close that they could often read each other’s minds, and she knew that he could see on her face the ill effects of living under strain.
“Are the children all right?” Sano asked.
“They’re in bed, fast asleep.”
He eyed her, unconvinced that all was well. “I suppose you heard about the bombing at Lord Matsudaira’s estate.” When she nodded, Sano said, “Don’t worry. I’ve put extra troops at the gates, in the guard turrets, and on the roofs.” Reiko had seen them. “Nobody who doesn’t belong here can get in.”
Lord Matsudaira had thought his estate was secure, too, Reiko thought but didn’t say. Sano was doing all he could to protect her and the children. “Has anything interesting happened?” she said, directing the conversation away from the topic that could only make her and Sano feel more ill at ease if pursued.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Sano told her about Tokugawa Tadatoshi’s skeleton and the examination at the morgue.
“How fascinating!” Reiko felt a spark of interest brighten her mood.
“The shogun wants me to find out who killed him,” Sano said. “This is a first for me-a new investigation of a very old murder.”
Reiko thought of the days when she and Sano had worked together to solve murders, which seemed so carefree in retrospect. “Won’t a murder case be difficult while you’re battling Lord Matsudaira?”
“The timing couldn’t be worse,” Sano agreed, “but I’m curious about what happened to Tadatoshi. It’ll be a challenge to see if I can discover any clues from so long ago.”
“Have you any suspects?” Reiko asked eagerly.
Sano smiled, pleased by the revival of her spirits. Suddenly the old days didn’t seem so far gone. “Not yet, but maybe I soon will. Tadatoshi’s mother and sister are still alive. I’m going to pay them a visit tomorrow.”
“That’s a good idea,” Reiko said. “Even if they had nothing to do with his death, maybe they can point you toward the culprit.”
But she couldn’t keep up her spirits, for this was one murder case in which she could take no part, no matter how much she wanted to.
The concern in Sano’s expression deepened, and he said, “I know that talking to the women is something you would ordinarily do.” Reiko often dealt with female suspects and witnesses, who tended to be more forthcoming with her than with a male interrogator. One of her strengths as a detective was her ability to go places and get close to people that Sano couldn’t. “But it’s too dangerous for you to leave the house. I’m sorry.”
Ordinarily Reiko would have tried to change his mind, but not this time. For once, her place was at home with their children, whom she was determined to protect. Reiko would have willingly ventured outside to help Sano investigate the murder despite any risk to herself, but not at their expense.
“That’s all right,” she said, hiding her disappointment. “I understand.”
Sano took her hands in his. “Next time you can work with me. If there is a next time,” he added in a joking tone.
His humor and his touch comforted Reiko. “I want to hear all about the investigation. If we talk it over, that might help you solve it.”
“All right.” Sano was obviously relieved that she didn’t argue and glad to have her assistance, no matter how limited.
“And maybe something about the murder will come up that I can work on at home,” Reiko said.
“Maybe,” Sano said.
But they both knew it was unlikely.
5
At dawn, the wind blew smoke from thousands of hearths across Edo through air tinged with winter, into a clear, pale sky. The sun rising above the hills outside town flashed brilliant rays. The city stirred to life.
Sleepy watchmen opened a gate to a neighborhood on the edge of the Nihonbashi merchant district. A squadron of mounted troops galloped through the gate and over a bridge that spanned a canal lined with willow trees. In the street on the opposite bank, proprietors opening the doors of their shops watched the squadron thunder past them, raising clouds of dust. The troops rode down a narrow side lane and stopped outside fences that
