talk. Staying will only get you killed.”
Hirata reluctantly capitulated. Outside the estate, they mounted their horses, and he realized how badly he’d handled the confrontation with Lord Niu. He should have kept calm and treated the daimyo with courtesy instead of losing his temper. Even as he understood that his father-in-law would probably have behaved the same way whatever he’d done, Hirata experienced mortifying shame. “I threw away a chance to solve the case,” he said.
“There will be other chances,” Marume said, swinging himself into the saddle. “Don’t worry-we’ll save Midori- san, no matter what.”
This attempt at reassurance failed to soothe Hirata. As they rode down the street, the sun rising over the roofs of the daimyo estates reminded him that time was quickly passing. And he was no closer to finding his wife now than when he’d heard the news of her abduction.
Fukida spoke with the hesitant air of a man voicing what his superior wouldn’t want to hear: “There’s good reason to believe Lord Niu is the kidnapper… but we can’t prove it. And as you told us Chamberlain Yanagisawa said last night, there is an abundance of suspects. Fixating too early on Lord Niu might steer us in the wrong direction.”
Hirata inhaled and nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t let my prejudice blind me to the possibility that someone other than Lord Niu took the women.” And unless he disciplined himself, he might jeopardize his mission.
He and the detectives turned their horses onto the boulevard and galloped west. Ahead, the road wound and narrowed toward the invisible horizon; shops, houses, and pedestrians dwindled into a shimmering haze of heat and charcoal smoke. The hills were gray smudges against the bleached blue sky. If the weather held, a day of hard, fast riding should take Hirata and his men to the scene of the massacre and abduction.
“But if Lord Niu is behind the crime, I’ll prove it,” Hirata said, slapping the reins. “And he will pay.”
6
In the reception room of Sano’s estate, one hundred detectives and soldiers knelt in rows on the floor while Sano, seated on the dais, told them about the kidnapping.
“This case takes priority over everything else,” he said. “For now, we will drop all other tasks.” Investigating the death of a priest at Ueno Temple, and a theft from the Tokugawa treasury, could wait. “The kidnapping may be the work of the Black Lotus sect. We must round up as many outlaw members as we can and find out what they know about the crime.
“Detectives Inoue and Arai, you’ll work with me,” Sano continued. The short, muscular samurai and the tall, thin one bowed. Sano divided the remaining troops into teams. “Go to the shrines, gambling dens, teahouses, and other places that the outlaws are known to frequent. Question your informants about secret temples. Use any means necessary to get leads on who the kidnappers are and where they’re holding the women.”
He sent the men on their way. He was glad to be taking action toward saving Reiko, yet his fear for his wife threatened to shatter the stoic facade he maintained. He told Inoue and Arai to meet him by the gate, then went to the nursery in the mansion’s private quarters.
Morning sun shone through doors open to the garden. Masahiro sat at a tray table, eating rice gruel. Three nursemaids wiped up spills and chattered to him. Everyone saw Sano standing in the doorway. The nurses bowed; Masahiro smiled, his face smeared with food, his eyes bright.
“Papa,” he said.
Love for the little boy stabbed anguish through Sano’s heart. Their son was the embodiment of the happiness Sano shared with Reiko… and stood to lose. Sano managed a cheerful greeting to his son, then beckoned the eldest nursemaid. “I must have a word with you, O-sugi.”
The old woman followed him outside to the garden; there, Sano told her about the kidnapping. Her lips parted in wordless exclamation and tears filled her eyes. She’d been Reiko’s nurse when Reiko was a child. Sano had to look away from O-sugi’s grief, lest it weaken his own self-control.
“Please tell the other servants what has happened,” Sano said. “But Masahiro is not to know. I forbid everyone to talk about it when he might overhear. I don’t want him upset.”
“Yes, master,” O-sugi whispered.
Sano went back into the nursery. He picked up Masahiro and held him tight.
“I paint picture yesterday,” Masahiro said in his earnest baby voice. “Will Mama come home and see?”
As he touched his face against Masahiro’s tender cheek, Sano felt the stinging pressure of tears. “Yes, she will,” he said, vowing that their son would not lose his mother. He eased Masahiro to the floor. “I have to go now. Be good.”
“Where are you going?” Masahiro asked.
“To see your grandfather,” Sano said.
Ever curious, Masahiro tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because I need his help with some important work.” And because Sano must deliver the news of Reiko’s abduction to the man he most dreaded telling.
Sano and his two detectives rode to the Hibiya administrative district south of Edo Castle where Reiko’s father served as one of the two magistrates responsible for maintaining law and order in the city. Earthen walls surrounded the tile-roofed, half-timbered mansions that housed offices and residences. Messengers, clerks, and dignitaries thronged the narrow lanes, clustering in excited groups. Sano heard snatches of their conversation; he watched the news of the kidnapping spread. Nothing remained secret in Edo for long.
At Magistrate Ueda’s estate, sentries at the portals admitted Sano and his men to a courtyard, where citizens gathered to bring disputes before the magistrate and police guarded shackled prisoners due for trial. Sano instructed his men to wait, then entered the mansion, a long, low structure with projecting eaves and latticed windows. Inside, he met Magistrate Ueda at the carved door to the Court of Justice.
“Greetings, Sano-san,” Magistrate Ueda said. He was a middle-aged samurai with a stout build, gray hair tied in a thick topknot, and broad features. He wore black robes decorated with gold crests. After he and Sano exchanged bows, he said, “What a pleasure to see you, but I have a trial to conduct.”
“Please excuse the interruption. We must talk,” Sano said.
The magistrate frowned, perceiving that something was amiss. Concern sharpened his intelligent, heavy-lidded eyes. “What is it?”
Sano glanced at the guards by the courtroom door, and the clerks busy in their chambers. “May we go to your office?”
There, Magistrate Ueda seated himself behind his desk. Sano knelt opposite him and said, “I regret to tell you that your daughter has been kidnapped.”
Magistrate Ueda’s face went expressionless as Sano related the circumstances of the crime. Anyone not well acquainted with him might have thought him indifferent to his daughter’s plight. But Sano knew what shock and alarm the man was experiencing. Magistrate Ueda loved his only child and valued her as all that remained of his beloved wife, who’d died when Reiko was a baby. He’d lavished upon her the education and martial arts lessons normally reserved for a son. Only a lifetime of samurai discipline enabled him to hide his emotions.
“If there is anything I can do to help you save the women and capture whoever took them, just ask,” he said.
“Thank you, Honorable Father-in-law.” Sano bowed, then explained that he suspected the Black Lotus. “I need to know if any outlaws are in custody.” While Sano, the police, and other officials hunted sect members, the magistrate kept track of those apprehended.
“Two men arrested by the police yesterday are in my courtroom awaiting trial now,” Magistrate Ueda said.
“May I question them afterward?” Sano said.
“By all means,” said Magistrate Ueda.
They entered the Court of Justice, a long hall where guards stood inside the doors and rows of people knelt on the floor. Dusty sunlight beamed through open windows. Men fanned themselves with paper fans. Two defendants
