but omitted mentioning their eerily preserved corpses. “They appeared to have been poisoned. There may have been foul play.”
“Do you mean murder?” Lord Hosokawa’s grief yielded to bewilderment and horror. “By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Whoever killed my daughters will pay,” Lord Hosokawa said, angry now. “But I have no expertise in hunting criminals. Will you do it for me?”
Sano could have said that it wasn’t his job anymore; but he would make an exception for his friend and ally. “I would be glad to, as soon as I’ve finished dealing with the problems caused by the earthquake.”
A visible jolt of dismay ran through Lord Hosokawa. “When will that be? Years from now, when Edo is back to normal?” He made a slicing motion with his hand. “No. The killer’s trail will be cold by then.”
“The trail is already cold,” Sano gently pointed out. “It’s been a month.”
Lord Hosokawa seemed not to hear. “I can’t wait that long for justice. The hunt for the killer must begin now.” His eyes met Sano’s. Gone was their usual cautious, worried expression. They glittered with lust for revenge. He jabbed his finger at Sano and spoke as if addressing a subordinate instead of a representative of his lord. “You will help me at once!”
“I’m sorry,” Sano said, disconcerted. “The shogun wouldn’t want me to take time off from rebuilding his capital to investigate two deaths.”
Lord Hosokawa set his jaw against the implication that his daughters’ deaths were but a drop in the pail of casualties that the earthquake had begotten. “A few days or a month to find the killer-what difference will it make if Edo is rebuilt that much sooner or later?”
Pitying the man, Sano sought a compromise. “I’ll send my people to investigate.” He thought of Hirata, then decided that Detective Marume would be more reliable, and perhaps the challenge would distract him from his grief.
“No,” Lord Hosokawa said, obstinate. “I want the best for my daughters. I’ll have no one but you.” His unnaturally bright gaze revealed the wits he’d used to make his domain among the best managed and most profitable. “I’ll make it worth your while. The government is desperately in need of money, isn’t it? The treasury is almost drained?”
Sano was too surprised to control his expression. The regime’s finances weren’t supposed to be public knowledge.
“Just as I thought,” Lord Hosokawa said with a smug smile. “But Higo Province had the best rice harvest in a decade this past year. I’ll make you a proposition.” His clan must have merchants in its family tree; he sounded like one now. “Investigate my daughters’ murders, and I’ll give you a million koban. ”
The huge sum astounded Sano. Here was his chance to kill two birds with one arrow-serve justice and fund the regime. Although tempted, he said, “I can’t accept. The shogun won’t approve of his chamberlain having to earn the money by working for you. You’re obligated to let him have it for free.”
“I’ll give you an incentive to accept,” Lord Hosokawa replied promptly. “Many of the most powerful daimyo are tired of being ruled by the Tokugawa. It’s been a hundred years of paying tribute and swallowing their pride. But now the regime’s capital is in ruins, its castle is as full of holes as a sieve, its army is minuscule. Three hundred and fifty-one officials are dead. For the first time in a century, the Tokugawa is vulnerable.”
The secret of the death toll had leaked out, too, Sano realized with alarm.
“In contrast, we daimyo are in good shape,” Lord Hosokawa went on. “Granted, many of us lost estates in Edo and quite a few men, but most of our wealth and property and armies is safe in our provinces. The earthquake has given us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If we band together, we can conquer the Tokugawa and rule Japan.”
Sano stared in shock at Lord Hosokawa, a friend suddenly turned potential enemy, the regime’s worst fear embodied. “Are you one of the daimyo who want to strike at the Tokugawa regime while it’s down?”
“Of course not,” Lord Hosokawa said. “You know me better than that.” But an unfamiliar brazenness in his eyes told Sano that he didn’t know this man at all. Deranged by his daughters’ death, Lord Hosokawa had absorbed the evil that had pervaded the air since the earthquake, that led people to do things they never would under normal circumstances. “Mine is the voice that’s urging the hotheads to keep the peace. My clan is a barricade between them and the shogun. But that will change unless you do as I ask. Catch my daughters’ killer, or I’ll join forces with the others, fight alongside them in a civil war, and ensure their victory.”
Flabbergasted, Sano stood. “That’s blackmail.” He had a nightmarish feeling that had plagued him since the earthquake, that the world had become a place of madness.
Lord Hosokawa rose, meeting Sano’s gaze. “It’s the length I’ll go to to secure your cooperation.”
“It’s treason to even talk about a revolt, let alone conspire to start one! It’s punishable by death!”
“It’s only punishable if the revolt fails. If it succeeds, the shogun will be in no position to deprive us of our heads.”
Sano grabbed Lord Hosokawa by the shoulders. “Stop this!”
Lord Hosokawa emitted a sound that was half moan, half chuckle, and all awareness that he’d put himself in grave danger. He resembled a man who is crossing a river that gets deeper with his every step. He gazed at Sano as if Sano had thrown him a rope while the current swept him down a waterfall. “It’s too late. I’ve already said too much.”
“I’ll have to report it to the shogun,” Sano said with regret. This was a double tragedy-first his daughters murdered; now Lord Hosokawa would go down for treason, his clan dissolved, its wealth confiscated. There seemed no end to the evils following the earthquake.
“No, I don’t think you’ll report me,” Lord Hosokawa said, suddenly crafty.
Sano tightened his face so it wouldn’t show the fear that trickled through him. “Why not? Because you’re going to kill me before I can leave this house?” He was alone here, his few troops outside no match for the Hosokawa army.
“Certainly not. Remember, I need you to investigate my daughters’ murders. You will decide for yourself that it’s better not to tell the shogun what has passed between us.”
As Sano frowned in disbelief, Lord Hosokawa said, “Think about what will happen if you tell. The bakufu will send what’s left of the Tokugawa army to arrest me and the other daimyo. Then we’ll have no choice but to fight. What would we have to lose?”
“You won’t win,” Sano said, trying to convince himself as well as Lord Hosokawa. “The Tokugawa branch clans and hereditary allies will support the regime.”
“You know they’re as weakened as the government,” Lord Hosokawa said. “Their domains are located near Edo, in the earthquake zone. Before they can get their troops provisioned and their rear ends on horseback, we’ll have our armies on the march from all over Japan, fully supplied with food, equipment, and ammunition.”
Appalled by this all-too-realistic scenario, Sano said, “It won’t work. You can’t coerce me into doing what you want.”
“If you bring my daughters’ killer to justice, I’ll hold off the rebels. They can’t win without me. I’ll hand over the money to you and persuade them that it’s better to donate money to rebuild Edo and shore up the Tokugawa regime than to gamble on coming out on top after a civil war. But if you don’t, you’ll be to blame for the end of the Tokugawa reign because you wouldn’t give up a few days of your precious time. Neither you nor your family will survive the wrath of the shogun, who will see you as the traitor.” Mournful yet triumphant, Lord Hosokawa said, “So, Chamberlain Sano: Which will it be?”
Sano felt the sting of betrayal, the burn of outrage. Never had he been subjected to such a devious form of pressure to solve a crime, and from a friend, yet! Never had the price of refusal or failure been greater. He was as trapped as the earthquake victims who’d been buried inside their collapsed houses.
Nodding in defeat, he said, “May the gods damn you to hell!”
6
Bearers carried a palanquin into Sano’s estate, whose outer wall was cracked in some places, entirely crumbled in others. Within the wall, sections of the barracks had collapsed. Once, these two-story structures had
