dizzied him. The prospect of having a partner to share his mission was almost irresistible. He longed to take the hand she offered.
But he could not draw his wife into the perilous web of his profession. And he knew his own faults, which he didn’t want to encourage in her. How could he live with someone as stubborn, reckless, and single-minded as himself? He still cherished the dream of a submissive wife, a peaceful home.
Sano said, “You’ve heard my reasons for wanting you to stay out of business that doesn’t concern you. I’ve made my decision, and it’s final.”
Reiko’s hand dropped. Hurt extinguished her radiance like a shroud thrown over a lamp, but her resolve didn’t waver. “Why should my life not be mine to risk if I choose, or my honor mean less than yours because I’m a woman?” she demanded. “I, too, have samurai blood. In centuries past, I would have ridden into battle at your side. Why not now?”
“Because that’s just the way things are. Your duty is to me, and I expect you to serve it here at home.” Sano knew he sounded pompous, but he believed every word. “For you to do otherwise would be pure selfish, willful disregard of your family responsibilities.”
The irony of the situation struck him. That he, who had often jeopardized family duty for the sake of personal causes, should criticize Reiko for doing the same! Faltering, he grasped for the thread of the argument.”Now tell me why you went to Ginza. For more women’s gossip?”
“If you’re going to belittle my work, you don’t deserve to know.” Reiko’s melodic voice coated a core of steel; her expression was no less cold or hard. “And if you don’t want my help with the investigation, then it can hardly matter. Now please excuse me.”
As she swept past him, Sano felt an immediate sense of loss. And he couldn’t let her have the last word. “Reiko. Wait.” He grabbed her arm.
Glaring, she pulled away. Her sleeve tore with a loud, ripping sound. Then she was gone, leaving Sano holding a long piece of silk in his hand.
Sano stared after her for a moment. Then he hurled the fragment of sleeve to the floor. His marriage was going from bad to worse. Stalking to his own chamber, he dressed in outdoor wear, hung his swords at his waist, and summoned a servant. “Have my horse saddled,” he said.
He couldn’t solve his problems alone. Therefore, he would consult the one person who might be able to help him with Reiko-and who might also have vital information relating to the murder investigation.
“Good evening, Sano-san. Please come in.” Magistrate Ueda, seated in his office, did not seem surprised by Sano’s unannounced arrival. Lamps burned on his desk amid writing supplies, official documents, and scattered papers: evidently he was catching up on work. To the servant who had escorted Sano into the mansion, he said, “Bring tea for my honorable son-in-law.” Then he gestured for Sano to kneel opposite him.
As Sano complied, nervousness and shame tightened his stomach. He was unaccustomed to asking for help with personal problems. His trouble with Reiko signified a most embarrassing incompetence; a high-ranking samurai should be able to handle a mere woman. Seeking advice reflected a weakness that he didn’t want to reveal to his father-in-law, whom he respected but hardly knew at all. Now Sano sought the words to obtain assistance while saving face.
Magistrate Ueda spared him the effort. “It’s my daughter, isn’t it?” At Sano’s nod, an expression of grim sympathy came over his features. “I thought so. What’s she done now?”
Encouraged by the magistrate’s frankness, Sano poured out the entire story. “You’ve known Reiko all her life. Please tell me what to do.”
The servant brought tea. Magistrate Ueda frowned and said in the authoritative tone he used in the Court of Justice, “My daughter is too intelligent and strong-willed for everyone’s good. You must control her with a firm hand and show her who’s in charge, hmm?”
Then he sighed and lapsed back into his ordinary voice. “Who am I to talk? I, who have always given in to Reiko’s wishes. Sano-san, I fear you’ve come to the wrong person for advice.”
They gazed at each other in rueful understanding: magistrate of Edo and most honorable investigator, confounded by the woman who united them. Suddenly they were friends.
“By putting our heads together, we should be able to find an answer to the problem,” Magistrate Ueda said, sipping tea. “I’ve always compromised with Reiko because I didn’t want to break her spirit, which I admire in spite of myself.” A humorous twinkle lit his eyes when he saw Sano’s wry grin. “Ah, I see that you do, too. Perhaps it’s your turn to bend. Why not assign her an easy, safe part of your work, like keeping records?”
“That won’t satisfy her,” Sano said with conviction. “She wants to be a detective.” Grudgingly, he admitted, “And she’s not bad at it.”
As he related Reiko’s discoveries, Magistrate Ueda beamed with paternal pride. “Then there must be something else she can do. More covert inquiries, such as she carried out today, might prove very helpful, hmm?”
Every instinct in Sano clamored in rebellion against this alternative. “What if the killer thinks she’s a threat and attacks her when I’m not around to protect her?” Despite his anger at his wife, the thought of losing Reiko shot terror through him. He was falling in love with her, he realized unhappily, with little chance of reciprocation. Yet he refused to relinquish control over his household.
“Your stubborn nature is a barrier in the path to a happy marriage,” Magistrate Ueda said. “Reiko will have to submit if you force her obedience, but she would never love or respect you. Therefore I fear that a compromise on your part is necessary.”
Sano sighed. “All right. I’ll try to think of something for Reiko to do.”
Now he recalled the other reason he’d come to see his father-in-law. “I was hoping you might be able to give me some background information on the murder suspects.” Any crimes in their pasts or complaints against them would be recorded in the official court documents. Despite the problems in Sano’s marriage, it had brought him one clear benefit: a connection with Magistrate Ueda.”Have Lieutenant Kushida, Lady Ichiteru, or Lord and Lady Miyagi been in trouble before?”
“I checked the records on Kushida and Ichiteru this morning, when I heard they were suspects,” Magistrate Ueda replied. “There was nothing on them. The Miyagi, however, are a different matter. I recall an incident that occurred four years ago. The daughter of a guard disappeared from the estate next door to the Miyagi’s. The girl’s parents claimed that Lord Miyagi was responsible. He enticed her into his house and tried to seduce her, they said, then killed her when she resisted.”
A tingle of excitement began in Sano’s chest. Perhaps the daimyo did follow the ways of his cruel ancestors. Perhaps he’d poisoned the girl-and later Lady Harume, for refusing to perform acts he requested. “What happened?”
“The girl’s body was recovered from a canal a few days later. The police couldn’t tell how she died. No charge was brought against Lord Miyagi. The case remains unsolved.” Magistrate Ueda’s shrug conveyed a deep cynicism. “That is the way of the law.”
“Yes,” Sano said. “The word of a mere soldier wouldn’t stand a chance against Lord Miyagi’s influence.”
“Influence is a formidable threat, Sano-san.” The magistrate bent a penetrating gaze upon him. “Shortly after the daughter’s death, that guard was run out of town by Lord Miyagi’s retainers. He couldn’t get another post. He and his wife died paupers. The bakufu neither protected them nor punished Lord Miyagi.”
Sano made a decision. “There’s something I want to tell you about the murder-something very sensitive. Will you promise to keep it in the strictest confidence?” At Magistrate Ueda’s assent, Sano told him about the pregnancy.
Frowning in contemplation, Magistrate Ueda hesitated, then said, “Because of Lady Harume’s pregnancy, the murder case now potentially involves the succession of power. Your investigation could implicate powerful citizens who wish to weaken Tokugawa rule by breaking the hereditary line. The outside lords, for example. Or the man responsible for many of your past troubles, hmm?”
Chamberlain Yanagisawa. Recalling his odd behavior at their last meeting, Sano wondered uneasily whether it signified the chamberlain’s involvement in the murder. At first this case had seemed straightforward. Now the prospect of unraveling a high-reaching conspiracy daunted Sano.
“I respect your ability and your principles,” Magistrate Ueda said. “But beware of making serious accusations against influential suspects. If you anger the wrong people, even your rank may not protect you.” Another weighty
