Nearby, the Edo Castle chief physician mixed medicinal herbs for a poultice. A Shinto priest chanted spells and waved a sword to banish evil, and a sorceress jingled a tambourine to summon healing spirits. Reiko hugged Midori, whose tear-stained face was haggard with woe. Midori hadn’t left Hirata’s side since Sano had brought him home from the theater.
“He’s going to be all right,” Reiko said, trying to reassure Midori and herself even though Hirata’s chances of survival were meager. Sano had told her that Hirata had lost much blood before a local doctor had arrived at the theater, sewn up his wound, and applied medicine to prevent shock and festering. “We must have faith.”
“He’s young and very strong,” said Dr. Kitano, the Edo Castle chief physician. “That he’s still alive after three days bodes well for his recovery.”
A sob shuddered through Midori. “I love him so much,” she wailed. “If he should die…”
“Don’t dwell on the thought,” Reiko said, tenderly wiping Midori’s tears. “Be strong for the sake of your daughter.”
But Midori wept harder at the thought of Taeko, whom she’d left in the care of a wet nurse. She couldn’t bring Taeko into Hirata’s room, for fear that the evil spirits might contaminate their baby. “Why did this have to happen?” she cried.
“It was fate,” Reiko said, having no better answer. “We’re all at its mercy.” Then she saw Hirata stir and his eyes slowly open. “Look, Midori-san! He’s awake.'”
Midori exclaimed. She clasped Hirata’s hand as he blinked up at her and Reiko. His blurred, empty gaze came into focus, as though his spirit had returned to his body after wandering in the netherworld between life and death.
“Midori-san,” he said. “Reiko-san.” His voice was hoarse and weak. Amazement dawned on his face. “I’m alive? That ronin didn’t kill me?”
“Yes, you’re alive,” Midori cried, weeping for joy now.
“And his wits are intact,” Dr. Kitano said as he knelt beside Hirata. “That’s a good sign.” He felt the pulse points on Hirata’s body. “His energy is stronger. I think he will make good progress.”
While Midori sobbed and laughed, Hirata breathed a weary sigh and closed his eyes. “Let him sleep,” Dr. Kitano said. “Rest will help cure him.”
The physician went back to his potions. Midori and Reiko sat quietly beside Hirata. “Oh, Reiko-san, I forgot that your husband is still in danger,” Midori said contritely. Now that Hirata’s condition was improved, she could take an interest in other things. “What’s to become of Sano-san, with all the changes since Lord Matsudaira defeated Chamberlain Yanagisawa?”
“I don’t know,” Reiko said.
The one definite good thing that had happened was the exile of Lady Yanagisawa as well as the chamberlain. Reiko regretted that the woman had escaped worse punishment for the crime of murdering Daiemon, but Reiko’s marriage was safe for the time being. Perhaps, Reiko hoped, Lady Yanagisawa would never return to plague her again. But this blessing didn’t compensate for the other repercussions that Lord Matsudaira’s victory and Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s downfall threatened for Sano.
“Lord Matsudaira has been meeting with the highest-ranking officials in the government,” Reiko said in a low voice that the doctor, priest, and sorceress couldn’t hear. “He’s been deciding who will stay and serve under his new regime and who will go. He has said nothing to my husband yet.”
Fear bit cold and hard within Reiko. “Rumors are flying, but nobody seems to know what will happen to us. Lord Matsudaira may not forgive my husband for refusing to bend to his wishes during the murder investigation. When his reorganization of the bakufu is done, my husband may no longer have a post.”
“But the shogun will want Sano-san to stay, won’t he?” Midori whispered anxiously. Reiko saw she’d realized that if Sano went, Hirata would also lose his station with the Tokugawa. He and Sano would both be ronin, their families’ home and livelihood gone, their honor destroyed after years of faithful service and much personal sacrifice. “Won’t the shogun keep Sano-san and his detective corps no matter what Lord Matsudaira thinks?”
“The shogun has secluded himself in the palace for the past three days,” Reiko said. “He’s just summoned my husband to an audience with him and Lord Matsudaira. I suppose we’ll soon find out whether we’re safe-or ruined.”
A cadence of doom reverberated through Sano as he walked up the length of the audience hall toward the dais on which the shogun sat. The shogun waited in impassive silence as he approached. Lord Matsudaira, kneeling in the position of honor to the shogun’s right, regarded Sano with a stern expression. The four members of the Council of Elders gravely watched him from their two rows on the upper floor level below the dais. Guards standing around the room and secretaries seated at desks along the walls avoided his gaze. This cool reception convinced Sano that his tenure as the shogun’s Most Honorable Investigator of Events, Situations, and People would end this very day.
As he knelt on the lower level of the floor and bowed to the assembly, he noticed the young man who knelt near the shogun’s left. What was Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s son Yoritomo doing here? Surprise almost eclipsed Sano’s dread. He’d heard that Yanagisawa’s whole family had been exiled. Why had Lord Matsudaira spared the boy? Sano could only guess that Yoritomo had seduced and charmed the shogun so thoroughly that the shogun had insisted on keeping the boy in Edo despite Lord Matsudaira’s opposition.
“Greetings, Sano-san,” the shogun said in a weary voice. He looked older and frailer than Sano had ever seen him. “It seems that, ahh, an eternity has passed since we last met.”
“Indeed it does, Your Excellency.” Sano had spent an agonizingly long three days suspended between his dread of losing his post and his honor, and his fear that Hirata would die. At least he could soon stop waiting for one blow to fall.
“I, ahh, have something important to tell you,” the shogun said.
He looked toward Lord Matsudaira, as if for permission to speak. Sano saw that even though Lord Matsudaira might not always have his way with the shogun, he now had their lord as firmly under his thumb as Chamberlain Yanagisawa ever had.
“All in due time, Honorable Cousin,” said Lord Matsudaira. “First we must hear Sano-san’s report on his investigation.”
His gaze commanded Sano. As everyone watched him and waited for him to speak, Sano felt as though he’d been granted a stay of execution that only made his doom more unbearable to anticipate. “Senior Elder Makino’s murder was an accident,” he said, then explained what had happened. “The actor Koheiji has been executed. Makino’s concubine Okitsu was sentenced to work as a courtesan in the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter.” Since she’d been an accomplice in covering up the murder but not directly responsible for it, she’d been given the usual punishment for female petty criminals.
“Makino’s wife Agemaki has been tried for the murder of his first wife,” Sano said, “but there was insufficient evidence to prove her guilt. She, too, has been sentenced to Yoshiwara.” She now lived in the same brothel as Okitsu, her rival. Sano had told its owner to keep a close watch on her, lest she inflict her murderous tendencies on her companions or clients.
“Have you also solved the murder of my nephew?” Lord Matsudaira said.
“I have,” Sano said. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s wife assassinated Daiemon, on orders from her husband.”
He could have mentioned that he’d finally accounted for Koheiji’s, Okitsu’s, and Tamura’s whereabouts on the night Daiemon had died. Koheiji had admitted leaving the rehearsal to dally with a lady love, and Okitsu had gone out looking for him at the Sign of Bedazzlement, among other places where he’d been known to conduct romances. Tamura had had a secret meeting with a retainer of Lord Matsudaira, during which he’d pledged to join Lord Matsudaira’s faction. But these details didn’t matter anymore.
Lord Matsudaira nodded, appearing satisfied with Sano’s report, especially since it cleared him of blame for the death of Senior Elder Makino and confirmed that Yanagisawa had been responsible for the murder of Daiemon. Yet Sano doubted that Lord Matsudaira had forgotten that Sano had offended him during the investigation. Sano thought surely his fate was already decided.
The shogun also nodded, like a puppet operated by Lord Matsudaira. “Well, I am glad that we, ahh, have dispensed with the matter,” he said as if the murders and the investigation had been a vexing but minor inconvenience to him. He seemed not to care anymore that his dear old friend and his onetime heir apparent were
