supposed to return voluntarily to the jail, and most did.
“But Emiko stayed behind. After the fire was out and everyone came back to the jail… ” Naraya puffed deep, tremulous breaths, and tears trickled down his droopy cheeks. “The warden found Emiko lying dead in a horse trough full of water. She had drowned.”
Even while Sano pitied the man, excitement quickened his heartbeat. Naraya’s daughter had perished in the same manner as the unnamed woman in the poem in the ransom letter. Was her death the murder that had precipitated the demand for Hoshina’s execution?
“There was no official explanation given for what happened to my daughter.” Naraya spoke with extreme rancor. “Maybe she fell in the trough. Maybe someone pushed her. But I think she drowned herself because she couldn’t bear her disgrace.”
“And you think Police Commissioner Hoshina indirectly caused her suicide?” Sano asked, controlling his excitement.
“If not for that scoundrel, Emiko would be alive today,” Naraya said. Animosity burned his tears dry. “I wouldn’t have lost my only child. My wife wouldn’t have died of grief seven years ago. Every day Hoshina-san lives is a big, big insult to their memory. Every day I pray for him to suffer the same agony and humiliation that we did.”
Contrary reactions beset Sano. He had more sympathy for Naraya than respect for Hoshina, and he found himself wanting Naraya to be innocent almost as much as he wanted him to be the kidnapper. He would rather see Naraya win vengeance for his daughter than punished for the massacre and abduction.
Naraya abruptly donned a semblance of his normal good cheer. “But the past is water under the bridge,” he said. “We must accept what fate deals us and move forward into the future.” Naraya paused, then said carefully, “May I ask what my old grudge against Hoshina-san has to do with the kidnapping of the shogun’s mother?”
“His Excellency has received a letter from the kidnapper,” Sano said. “It demanded that Hoshina be denounced and executed as a murderer, in exchange for the return of Lady Keisho-in.”
Naraya’s eyes bulged and his mouth dropped. He looked as though he’d just swallowed a rock that had lodged in his throat. Obviously, he realized how his story had incriminated him. Then he threw back his head and burst into laughter.
“So Hoshina-san has finally reaped his comeuppance!” Naraya exulted. “There’s justice in this world after all.” He jumped up and down in glee. “When he’s executed, I’ll be there to watch.” Delight burbled from Naraya; he rubbed his hands together, then raised them skyward. “Praise the gods for answering my prayers. Someone has brought down that villain at last!”
“Was it you?” Doubt pierced Sano because Naraya appeared genuinely surprised by the news about the ransom demand. Could even an expert actor fake such a response? If Naraya had kidnapped the women, he should be alarmed that Sano had traced the letter to him, worried that his plot against Hoshina had failed, and afraid he would be punished for the crime, instead of rejoicing over Hoshina’s downfall.
“I almost wish it were me,” Naraya said. “Such a clever, clever retaliation for the wrongs Hoshina-san has done.” He pumped his fists and chortled; then belated prudence sobered him as he comprehended his dangerous position. “But I didn’t kidnap those women off the Tokaido. I haven’t even left Edo in months. Ask anyone here.” He gestured toward the factory.
But Sano knew that the workers owed Naraya their loyalty and would lie for him. “When did you learn that Lady Keisho-in was going on her trip?” Sano asked.
“Not until the news broadsheets announced that she’d been kidnapped,” Naraya said. “I couldn’t have done it.” Sudden thought narrowed his eyes. “Besides, didn’t I hear that Lady Keisho-in’s entourage was massacred? A hundred people killed?” Naraya shook his head, deploring the carnage. “I could never, never shed blood-not even to avenge my daughter’s death. And I’m not foolish enough to commit treason just to strike back at Hoshina- san.”
Sano thought of how Magistrate Ueda had compromised his professional honor and bent the law for Reiko’s sake. Sano knew that he himself would risk whatever danger and pay whatever price necessary to punish anyone who hurt Masahiro. Paternal devotion was stronger than prudence, and Naraya’s denials didn’t convince Sano.
“Maybe you wouldn’t kill or kidnap with your own hands,” Sano said. “But you wouldn’t have needed to leave Edo or do your own dirty work.”
Naraya snorted in disdain. “I don’t have the men or the money to carry off an ambush like that.”
Yet although Sano knew that hired muscle came cheap, and Naraya could afford it, he wondered whether Edo ruffians could have so easily slain Tokugawa troops. Sano’s misgivings about Naraya’s guilt increased. Shifting course, he said, “When did you move to Edo?”
The merchant blinked, disconcerted by the abrupt change of subject. “Two years ago,” he said.
“Your family ran the business in Miyako for many generations. Why did you relocate it here?”
“Competition was tougher every year,” Naraya said, and Sano watched him squint as he tried to figure out the point of the questions. “Business is much, much better in Edo.”
“Your decision had nothing to do with the fact that Hoshina-san had moved here the year before?” Sano said.
“No.” The merchant frowned in perplexity, then acquired an owlish look of wisdom. Pointing a finger at Sano, he said, “You think I followed Hoshina-san. You think I came to Edo to do him harm. But I didn’t. The day I heard he’d left Miyako, I celebrated because he wouldn’t foul the place anymore. If there were any other city as big as Edo, I’d have gone there instead, so I wouldn’t have to breathe the same air as him.”
Suddenly Sano lost all tolerance for restrained, deliberate interrogation. His urgent need to solve the case, save Reiko, and avoid execution flared up in him. He grabbed Naraya by the front of his kimono.
“No more denials!” he shouted at the merchant. “If you kidnapped the women, you’d better tell me!”
Startled, Naraya inhaled a loud gulp of breath. Fright widened his eyes. “I didn’t,” he protested.
If there was any chance that he was the Dragon King, Sano wasn’t going to let Naraya dupe him. He slammed the merchant against the building and yelled, “Don’t lie to me!”
“It’s the honest truth,” Naraya said. “I didn’t kidnap anybody. I swear on my ancestors’ honor.”
“What have you done with my wife?” Though Sano hated resorting to brute force, he had two choices: He could be nice to the merchant and leave empty-handed, or pressure Naraya and perhaps elicit the facts he sought. Sano shook Naraya back and forth. 'Where is she?”
“I don’t know!” Naraya’s head thumped on the wall. 'Please, let me go. You’re hurting me.”
“Talk, and I’ll stop.” Sano shook him harder and faster.
The merchant grabbed Sano’s hands and tried in vain to pry them off him. His feet kicked Sano’s shins. “Help! Help!” he screamed.
“Tell me!” Sano ordered.
Workers rushed out of the factory, armed with paddles, clubs, and iron shovels, ready to defend Naraya. The detectives drew their swords.
“I’m innocent,” Naraya cried. “Torture me until I confess, then kill me-but it won’t bring back the women, because I didn’t take them. I don’t know where they are!”
Sano saw Naraya’s terrified face, and a brawl impending. He realized he’d gone too far. Beating Naraya’s head to a pulp would do Reiko no good, even if Naraya was the Dragon King. Sano released his hold on Naraya. The merchant sat down hard on the filthy ground.
“Go back to your business,” Sano told the workmen.
They obeyed; the detectives sheathed their blades. Sano leaned against the wall, spent by his violent impulse and horrified that his life seemed a nightmare in which he must start and restart this investigation for all eternity, and never find Reiko. He looked at the suspect he’d almost killed. Naraya reclined with eyes closed and limbs splayed, moaning. Blood from his head smeared the wall.
“Are you all right?” Sano said, fearful that he’d beaten Naraya senseless.
Naraya opened his eyes. “No thanks to you,” he said, and cracked a weak smile. “But no hard feelings. I understand that you’re very, very upset, because I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. And I really want to help you.” With a pained grunt, he stood up and said timidly, “May I make a suggestion?”
Drained of energy for more verbal combat, Sano said, “Go ahead.” His hope that Naraya was the Dragon King had diminished so much that he needed all the advice he could get-even from a suspect.
“If you really want to find the kidnapper,” Naraya said, “you should forget me and look into other people Hoshina-san hurt. He made himself very, very unpopular around Miyako. Maybe his other old enemies came here
