know what’s happened to her.”

Neither he nor Hirata speculated aloud on the mishaps that might have befallen Reiko by now.

“What’s the next step in the investigation?” Hirata said, wondering if he even dared ask, now that it was none of his business.

Sano breathed, slowly and deliberately, as though to gird himself for an unpleasant task. “Much as I would like to avoid the factions, I can’t. I’ve already skirmished with Lord Matsudaira and his nephew.” Sano described what he’d discovered about Daiemon. “It’s time for a talk with Chamberlain Yanagisawa.”

And Hirata would be left out of it. More than ever he regretted his mistake. As Sano rose, Hirata said, “What shall I do?”

“Attend to your other duties as my chief retainer,” Sano said. “You can handle the business we’ve neglected since Makino’s murder.”

To occupy himself with mundane, everyday matters while the investigation went on without him seemed a sentence of doom to Hirata. “Yes, Sosakan-sama,” he said, bowing humbly.

Sano hesitated. The concern in his eyes worsened Hirata’s anguish. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sano said.

With bitter despair, Hirata watched Sano walk out of the room.

Sano, accompanied by Detectives Marume and Fukida, met Chamberlain Yanagisawa in the passage that led to the heart of Edo Castle. Yanagisawa walked amid his entourage. Lights from torches in the guard turrets and carried by soldiers patrolling atop the stone walls flickered in the black night. Dogs howled somewhere on the hill.

“Good evening, Sosakan-sama,” the chamberlain said with cool courtesy as their two parties met.

Sano bowed, returned the greeting, then said, “May I have a word with you, Honorable Chamberlain?”

Yanagisawa nodded. Sano fell into step with Yanagisawa; their escorts trailed them. Yanagisawa said, “Don’t tell me-let me guess: Your investigation into Senior Elder Makino’s murder has led you to me.”

“I suppose Ibe-san has reported to you what we discovered today,” Sano said.

“I haven’t yet heard from Ibe-san. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Sano described his talk with Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon, and their allegation that Makino had defected. “They claim that they therefore had no reason to want him dead, and you did,” Sano said.

“That’s a good one.” Yanagisawa gave Sano a sidelong, amused glance. “Was it Daiemon who introduced the idea that Makino had turned on me?” When Sano nodded, Yanagisawa chuckled. “I underestimated his talent for fabricating lies.”

“Then it’s untrue that Makino defected?” Sano’s skepticism extended to Yanagisawa as well as the Matsudaira.

“Makino and I were longtime allies. There wasn’t a chance that he would betray me at this stage,” Yanagisawa said. “What proof do my enemies offer that he did?”

“None,” Sano admitted. “That’s why I came to hear your side of the story.

“Before accusing me of murdering Makino, based on their story?” Yanagisawa interpreted Sano’s silence as assent. “That was wise of you.” Respect tinged his tone. “Five years in the bakufu have refined your judgment. I scarcely recognize you as the raw amateur who used to rush headlong into every dangerous situation. Tell me: Under what circumstances did Daiemon announce that Makino had joined the Matsudaira faction?”

“I was questioning him about a visit he paid to Makino the night of the murder.”

A cloud of vapor issued from Yanagisawa’s nostrils as he snorted. “How unsurprising. You placed Daiemon at the scene of the crime. He knew he was in a dangerous position. What better way for him to cast off your suspicion than by foisting it onto me? That was quick thinking on his part.”

“The same logic applies to you,” Sano said. “What better way for you to reflect my suspicion back at Daiemon than by pointing out that he had reason to mislead me?”

Yanagisawa shrugged. “It’s up to you to decide which of us is telling the truth.”

And unless Sano found evidence to support Daiemon’s story, he must give Yanagisawa the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes he could discern Yanagisawa’s thoughts, but not tonight. Sano couldn’t tell if Yanagisawa felt threatened by Daiemon’s accusation or as unworried as he appeared. Yet Sano guessed that Yanagisawa had some scheme underway. He always did.

“But I must warn you against jumping to the conclusion that I’m the liar and not Daiemon,” Yanagisawa said. “The fact remains that Daiemon was in Makino’s house the night of the murder. I was at a banquet in my own house, with officials who can attest to my presence there.”

Here was the alibi that Sano had expected Yanagisawa to offer. At least the chamberlain had spared him the trouble of asking his whereabouts the night of the murder.

“How am I supposed to have killed Makino while entertaining my guests?” Yanagisawa gave Sano a sly glance as they walked. “I presume you’ve investigated my spy whose name was given you by our mutual friend in the metsuke?”

Sano had stopped by Makino’s estate before returning home tonight and questioned the guard Yanagisawa had employed to spy on Makino. The interview had negated the theory that the spy had assassinated Makino on orders from Yanagisawa. “Luckily for you, your spy was locked in the barracks that night,” Sano said, “and the patrol guards confirmed that he was in his bed. He couldn’t have killed Makino.”

“What about Lord Matsudaira’s spy?” Yanagisawa said in a tone of mild curiosity.

“He was stationed outside the front gate,” said Sano. “According to his partner, he never left until their shift ended at dawn.”

Torches in a guard turret above Sano and Yanagisawa briefly illuminated a smug expression on the chamberlain’s face. “Then your only evidence that the murder was committed by either faction is Daiemon’s presence at the scene of the crime. Daiemon is therefore your best suspect among us.”

“Not necessarily,” Sano said. “If Makino did defect, you could have hired someone else in his estate to kill him. And your elite troops are known for their skill at stealth.” Those troops were assassins whom Yanagisawa employed to keep himself in power. “They’d have had no problem invading Makino’s house-or killing him under his guards’ noses.”

“If I had sent them to kill Makino. But I didn’t,” said Yanagisawa.

They’d reached his compound. As they halted outside the high stone wall, their escorts stopped behind them.

“Trace the movements of my troops that night if you like,” he told Sano, “but it will be a waste of your time. Any evidence you find that implicates them in the murder will have been planted by my enemies. You’ll exhaust yourself trying to separate fact from fraud.” Yanagisawa shunned the notion with a flick of his hand. “There’s a better solution to your problems. Go along with the evidence that says Daiemon is guilty. It’s enough to convict him in the Court of Justice. Lodge an official accusation against him. Consider your investigation finished.”

“And join your campaign against his uncle?” Sano said.

“Would that be such a bad idea?” Yanagisawa responded to Sano’s lack of enthusiasm. “Remember that you’ve prospered during my time as chamberlain. I promise that if you ruin Daiemon and help me defeat Lord Matsudaira, you’ll enjoy a larger income and more authority when my power is secure.”

“I remember what my life was like before you agreed to a truce,” Sano said, alluding to Yanagisawa’s attacks on his person and reputation. “I also remember that you can call off our truce anytime you choose. And with all due respect, I would be a fool to believe a promise from you.”

“You would be a fool to think that Lord Matsudaira can give you better terms than I can,” Yanagisawa said. “Lord Matsudaira is more vulnerable than he seems. He’s going to lose our battle. Join me and be on the winning side.”

Sano felt the potent combination of will, menace, and charm by which Yanagisawa won allies and compelled their obedience. The vast, fortified bulk of his estate silently proclaimed his power. But despite his intelligence and his skill at manipulating people, Yanagisawa had never understood what motivated Sano. He couldn’t offer Sano anything that would atone for years of torment or induce him to compromise his principles.

“Winning isn’t as important to me as honor,” Sano said, although Yanagisawa would never believe him. “And I’ll serve honor by standing by the shogun, not conniving behind his back for control of the regime. Not with you, or with Lord Matsudaira.”

“You’ll be answering to one of us eventually.” A cunning smile hovered around Yanagisawa’s mouth. “At least

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