rooms had failed to uncover useful information or evidence either. Sano instructed the men to resume work the next day. He assigned a team to track the passage of the ink bottle and letter from the Miyagi estate to Lady Harume. Then the detectives filed out of the room, leaving Sano and Hirata to review their inquiries.
“Police headquarters gave me a possible lead on the drug peddler,” Hirata said, “an old man selling aphrodisiacs around town. And I’m using one of my informants-the Rat.”
Sano nodded his approval. The police’s drug dealer might have supplied the Indian arrow toxin that had killed Harume, and he was familiar with the Rat’s abilities. “Now, what about Lady Ichiteru?”
Hirata’s gaze slid away. “I spoke with her. But… I don’t have anything definite to report yet.”
He seemed uncharacteristically distracted, and his eyes shone with a peculiar intensity. Sano was troubled by Hirata’s evasiveness, as well as his failure to obtain information on an important suspect. Nonetheless, he hated to reprimand Hirata.
“I suppose tomorrow is soon enough to finish investigating Lady Ichiteru,” he said.
His voice must have conveyed doubt, because Hirata said defensively, “You know it’s not always possible to get the whole story from someone on the first try.” Squirming, he clasped and unclasped his hands. “Would you rather interrogate Lady Ichiteru yourself? Don’t you trust me? After Nagasaki?”
Sano recalled how his inclination to meet all challenges alone there had almost destroyed him, and how Hirata’s competence and loyalty had saved his life. “Of course I trust you,” Sano said. Changing the subject, he described the examination of Lady Harume’s corpse and his interviews with Lieutenant Kushida and the Miyagi. “We’ll keep the pregnancy a secret until I inform the shogun. Meanwhile, try to discreetly find out who knew or guessed that Harume was with child.”
“Do you think she knew herself?” Hirata asked.
Sano pondered. “It seems as though she must have at least suspected. My theory is that she didn’t report the pregnancy because she wasn’t sure who the father was, or whether the shogun would claim the child as his.” Sano noticed Hirata staring off into space instead of listening. “Hirata?”
Starting nervously, Hirata reddened. “Yes, sosakan-sama! Is there something else?”
If Hirata’s behavior didn’t return to normal soon, Sano thought, they must have a serious talk. But right now, Sano was eager to see Reiko. “No. There’s nothing else. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What do you mean, she’s not here?” Sano asked the manservant who’d greeted him in the mansion’s private living quarters with the news that Reiko had left the house that morning and not yet returned. “Where did she go?”
“She wouldn’t say, master. Her escorts sent word that they were taking her to various places in Nihonbashi and Ginza. But it’s not clear what she was doing there.”
An unpleasant suspicion formed in Sano’s mind. “When will she be back?”
“No one knows. I’m sorry, master.”
Annoyed by the postponement of a romantic evening, Sano realized that he was hungry-he hadn’t eaten since noon, a bowl of noodles at his mother’s house after the interview with Lieutenant Kushida. And he needed to wash away the taint of the illegal dissection. “Have my bath prepared and my evening meal brought,” he told the servant.
Once bathed, dressed in clean robes, and settled in the warm, lamp-lit sitting room, Sano tried to eat his dinner of rice, steamed fish, vegetables, and tea. But his irritation with Reiko soon turned to concern. Had something bad happened to her?
Had she left him?
His appetite lost, Sano paced the sitting room. It occurred to him that this was what marriage must be like for women: waiting at home for their spouses to return, wondering and fretting. Suddenly he understood Reiko’s rebellion against her lot in life. But anger precluded sympathy. He didn’t like this one bit. How dare she treat him so? For the next hour, his rage alternated with growing worry. He imagined Reiko caught in a burning building, or assaulted by outlaws. In his mind he rehearsed the scolding he would give her when she got home.
Then he heard hoofbeats outside. His heart jumped with simultaneous relief and fury. At last! Sano rushed to the front door. In walked Reiko, followed by her entourage. The cold wind had put a vivid sparkle in her eyes and loosened strands of long hair from her coiffure. She looked utterly lovely-and satisfied with herself.
“Where have you been?” Sano demanded. “You shouldn’t have gone without my permission, and without leaving word of your whereabouts. Explain what you were doing out so late!”
The servants, foreseeing a marital dispute, faded away. Reiko squared her shoulders, delicate chin jutting forward. “I was investigating Lady Harume’s murder.”
“After I ordered you not to?”
“Yes!”
Despite his anger, Sano admired Reiko’s nerve. A weaker woman might have lied to avoid censure instead of standing up to him. His attraction to her charged the air of the dim corridor with invisible sparks. And he could tell that she felt it, too. Self-consciousness broke her gaze; her hand went up to straighten her disheveled hair; her tongue touched the chipped tooth. He felt himself becoming aroused against his will. He forced a sarcastic laugh.
“Investigating how? What could you possibly do?”
Hands clasped, jaws set in rigid self-control, Reiko said, “Don’t be so quick to mock me, Honorable Husband.” Icy scorn frosted her voice.
“I went to Nihonbashi to see my cousin Eri. She’s a palace official in the Large Interior. She told me that Lieutenant Kushida was caught in Lady Harume’s room two days before the murder. Lady Ichiteru threatened to kill Harume during a fight they had at Kannei Temple.”
She laughed at Sano’s surprised look. “You didn’t know, did you? Without me, you never would have, because both incidents were hushed up. And Eri thinks someone threw a dagger at Harume and tried to poison her last summer.” Reiko described the events, then said, “How long might it have taken you to find out? You need my help. Admit it!”
This evidence placed Lieutenant Kushida in Lady Harume’s room on the day Lord and Lady Miyagi had sent the ink bottle. Kushida might have read the letter and seen the perfect opportunity to administer the poison with which he’d already planned to kill her. Reiko had also confirmed Lady Ichiteru’s hatred for Harume. Sano was impressed by Reiko’s ability, then furious at her lack of remorse.
“A few stray facts don’t solve a case,” he blustered, although he knew they sometimes did. “And how can I be sure your cousin is a reliable witness, or that her theories are correct? You defied me and risked danger for nothing.”
“Danger?” Reiko frowned in confusion. “What harm could come from just talking and listening?”
Further incensed by his wife’s challenge, Sano spared no mercy for her feminine sensibilities. “When I was a police commander, I had a secretary, a man even younger than you.” Sano’s voice hoarsened at the memory of Tsunehiko’s childlike innocence. “He died at a highway inn, his throat cut, in a pool of his own blood. He did nothing to deserve death. His only mistake was accompanying me on a murder investigation.”
Reiko’s eyes widened in shock. “But… you’re still all right.” Her bold voice became a tentative murmur.
“Only by the grace of the gods,” Sano retorted. “I’ve been attacked-cut, shot at, ambushed, beaten-more times than I care to think about. So believe me when I say that detective work is dangerous. It could get you killed!”
Reiko stared. “All those things happened while you were investigating crimes and catching murderers?’’ she said slowly. The scorn had left her voice. “You risked death to do what was right, even when you knew people would kill to stop you?”
The new admiration in her eyes left Sano more shaken than her defiance had. Speechless, he nodded.
“I didn’t know.” Reiko took a hesitant step toward him. “I’m sorry.”
Sano stood paralyzed, unable even to breathe. He sensed in this young woman a dedication to truth and justice that matched his own, a willingness to sacrifice herself for abstract principles, for honor. This similarity of spirit was an undeniable basis for love. The knowledge thrilled, and horrified, Sano.
But Reiko’s face shone with joyful recognition of the same fact. Eagerly she reached out a slim hand to him. “You understand how I feel,” she said, responding to their unspoken exchange. Passion heightened her beauty. “Let’s work and serve honor together. Together we can solve the mystery of Lady Harume’s murder!”
What would it be like, Sano wondered, to have that passion directed at me in the bedchamber? The thought
