“Maybe ninety percent of the people along the Edo Bay coast died,” said Hazama.
“The death toll across the earthquake zone could be as high as a hundred thousand,” Elder Ohgami said.
The number was too vast for Sano’s mind to encompass. It approached the death toll from Edo’s Great Fire forty-six years ago. Sano had never imagined a comparable disaster occurring during his lifetime. Everyone was silent. Wet streaks glistened on the stoic faces of the men around him, tears impossible to restrain.
“Does the shogun know about this?” Sano asked
“No,” Ohgami said. “The Council has decided he shouldn’t be told.”
“We’re afraid he couldn’t stand the shock,” Kato said, for once in agreement with his rival.
Here was another secret for Sano to keep from the shogun.
Kato said to the assembly, “What you’ve heard in this room tonight is not to be repeated outside. Is that understood?”
Everyone murmured in assent.
“Good,” Ohgami said. “Now we must decide what to do about the provinces.”
Men sat silent, their heads bowed, already sagging under the weight of their duties. Although half dead from exhaustion himself, Sano had to accept the responsibility for organizing a relief effort.
“We’ll bring supplies to the survivors,” he said. “That means sending a team of men to buy food and building materials and hire workers from areas that weren’t affected by the earthquake. The team will have to include oxcart drivers, and troops to guard the money and shipments. And laborers to clear the roads along the way. And carpenters to build new bridges.” With each item he added, Sano realized anew how impossible the job sounded.
“We’ll have to provide food and tents and fuel for the men while they’re traveling,” Ohgami said. “They can’t count on finding enough to eat, or places to sleep, until they’re out of the earthquake zone.”
“The team needs competent men, and a leader,” Kato said. “Whom can we send that’s not needed here?”
No one answered. Every able-bodied, intelligent person had already been pressed into service. Ohgami said, “Each of you, come up with a list of names by tomorrow morning. We’ll reconvene then and start putting the team together.”
Sano had to find the money to provision the team, and he saw another problem. “The situation in the provinces can’t be kept a secret for much longer-not with that many other people having to be told what’s happening.”
“Maybe by the time the news has to come out, the shogun will be in better shape to receive it,” Ohgami said with scant optimism.
When Sano arrived home, the sentry told him, “Lord Hosokawa is here to see you.”
Sano’s heart sank even though he’d thought it had already hit bottom. He went to the makeshift reception chamber, which had once been an office. Lord Hosokawa knelt there. A tray beside him held empty dishes, a cup half filled with tea, and dirty chopsticks. Sano’s servants had fed him dinner. Lord Hosokawa regarded Sano with a mixture of anticipation and menace. He said, “I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon.”
“Thank you for your patience.” Sano got a firm grip on his own patience.
“Have you identified my daughters’ killer yet?”
“No. I’m sorry.” Sano had to remind himself once again that the man was a grieving father, single-minded in his need for vengeance.
The anticipation in Lord Hosokawa’s eyes winked out like a snuffed lamp flame to be replaced by anger. “Can you at least tell me who the suspects are?”
Sano had to tell him something, and he was under too much stress to be tactful. “One is Madam Usugumo. Another is her apprentice, a young man named Korin. There are also your daughters.”
“My daughters? What nonsense is this?”
“It’s not nonsense, it’s logic. Your daughters were at the incense game. One of them could have mixed the poison into the incense. I have to consider them suspects.”
“Why would they do such a thing?”
“They hated each other, didn’t they?” Sano said. “They’d been rivals all their life, just as their mothers are. Myobu married the man Kumoi loved, and adopted the child that Kumoi bore him out of wedlock. It seemed possible that one sister had tried to kill the other.”
Lord Hosokawa appeared mortified as well as furious. “You investigated my family.”
“My investigation wouldn’t be thorough if I hadn’t.”
“Who told you our private business?” Lord Hosokawa demanded.
“My sources are confidential.” Sano wasn’t going to throw the maid-or Reiko-into the fire of Lord Hosokawa’s wrath.
“You have to tell me. You’re working for me.”
Sano stood his ground even though it was thin ice. “You coerced me into solving the murder because I’m the expert, not you. I’m likelier to succeed if you let me do my job instead of criticizing the way I do it.”
Lord Hosokawa nodded reluctantly. “What other suspects are there?”
“Their identities are still confidential.” Sano wouldn’t throw Mizutani, Minister Ogyu, or Priest Ryuko into the fire, either, until he was sure whether one was guilty.
“I’m warning you, Honorable Chamberlain.” Anger tightened Lord Hosokawa’s lips.
Sano’s temper snapped. “And I’m warning you. Do you think I don’t know that your friends are gathering their troops in Edo? Do you think the metsuke, and the army, and the shogun don’t know?” He was gratified to see concern on Lord Hosokawa’s face. “I managed to keep General Isogai from going on the attack, but I don’t know how long I can hold him off. So make your friends be discreet. No more parading in battle formation. Or you’ll find yourself fighting in a civil war whether you really want to or not.”
Lord Hosokawa sagged a little, as if Sano’s words had punctured him and let out the hot wind of his rage. But he said, “I will fight in a civil war unless you keep your part of our bargain. You’d better have more progress to report when I come back tomorrow.”
Sano thought of everything he had to do tomorrow. “That’s too soon.” He wished he could tell Lord Hosokawa about the situation in the provinces and the necessity of a relief effort. “My investigation will have to be postponed for a few days.”
“No. I won’t allow it.” Lord Hosokawa rose.
“Be reasonable!” Sano’s voice was harsh with frustration.
Lord Hosokawa shook his head.
“You’ve forced me to compromise my honor and my duty to the shogun,” Sano said, his anger turning cold and deadly. “You won’t get away with it. There will come a day when you’ll be at my mercy.”
Lord Hosokawa gave a desolate chuckle. “So be it. But if you don’t solve the murder, that day will never come.”
A knock on his door woke Yanagisawa. He called through his quilt, “What is it?”
“There’s a woman here to see you,” his guard said.
“It’s late,” Yanagisawa said, groggy and vexed. “Find out who she is and what she wants and tell me in the morning.”
A shrill, furious voice shouted, “Come out, damn you!”
Yanagisawa sat up in surprise. “Someko?” His sons’ mothers never came to his house. They had strict orders to communicate with him only via messengers.
“Yes! I have to talk to you!”
Something was seriously wrong. She hated him so much that she would never, under ordinary circumstances, seek him out. He climbed out of bed, threw on his coat. The instant he emerged from the house, Someko flew at him like a rabid bat. Her face was stark white in the light of the lantern that his guard held, her beauty distorted by anger.
“This is all your fault!” She waved a scroll container at his face.
“Hey!” Yanagisawa ducked. “What’s my fault?”
