Sano told Hirata and the other men his theory about the attack on him. “If Daigoro was with you then, he couldn’t have sneaked into the castle and attacked me.”
“Daigoro needn’t have thrown the knife himself,” Hirata said. “He admits having spies inside the castle. I suspect that some Matsumae retainers owe him money, and they repay him with information. And maybe other services, like getting rid of the man who’s investigating a murder that he committed.”
“My assassination ought to be a big enough service to get any debt excused.” Sano saw the arrow of suspicion point away from Lord Matsumae’s uncle to his troops, who’d had as good an opportunity to kill him.
“That’s not all I learned,” Hirata said. “According to the gold merchant, Tekare wasn’t exactly the most popular woman around.” He described her ambitions, how she’d used and discarded men, created jealousy among both the Japanese and the Ezo, and fomented trouble everywhere. “Not that I would believe everything that comes out of Daigoro’s mouth, but this could explain why someone wanted Tekare dead.”
Sano pondered the new information about the murder victim. “‘The Empress of Snow Country.” I wonder how she got to be a shamaness. If she really was a universal troublemaker, then she’d have made enemies in the castle.“
“Maybe she played the same game with Lord Matsumae’s retainers as she did with the miners, fishermen, and traders,” Fukida said.
“If she did, they wouldn’t have needed Daigoro the gold merchant’s orders to kill her,” Sano said.
“How many Matsumae retainers live in or near Fukuyama Castle?” Hirata asked.
“Too many,” Sano said as he saw the pool of potential suspects expand.
“We’ll have to interrogate them all,” Hirata said.
“Which won’t be easy while they’re our jailers.” Sano wondered how long the investigation would last. Would he solve the crime before Lord Matsumae’s patience gave way to his madness?
Servants brought dinner, and his men dug in with hearty appetites. “This isn’t bad,” Marume said. “What is it?”
“Lily root dumplings,” the Rat said as he gobbled his meal. “Salmon stew made with ferns, garlic, and butterbur. Wine brewed from millet. Traditional Ezo food. Even the highest-ranking Japanese here have to eat it at least some of the time, or starve. There’s not enough Japanese food.”
Sano ate to keep up his strength, but he wasn’t hungry. Another day was ending, and he had yet to find his son. Another night stretched before him, long and cold. And where was Reiko?
He heard the exterior door open down the passage, the guards’ voices, and a scuffle along the corridor. Okimoto marched Reiko into the room. Relief gladdened Sano, but her appearance shocked him. She wore a fur- lined deerskin coat, mittens, and boots that were too big for her. She was streaked with black grime, her hair disheveled, her eyes wild.
“We found her hiding in the coal shed,” Okimoto said. “Keep her in here from now on, I’m warning you.”
He shoved Reiko at Sano, then left. Sano gathered Reiko into his arms. She was shuddering with cold and fright. He seated her by a brazier, put a bowl of hot wine in her hands. They trembled so much that he had to help her drink. He wiped her soot-stained cheeks with a napkin. Gradually the wine warmed the color back into them.
“Where have you been?” Detective Marume asked.
“We were so worried about you,” Fukida said.
“I went looking for Masahiro,” she said, her teeth chattering.
That didn’t surprise Sano; but just the same, he was upset. “You shouldn’t have gone. Lord Matsumae threatened to blind his men if they didn’t capture you. They were so afraid of him that they went berserk. They might have killed you by accident.”
Reiko spoke over his words, which she seemed not to hear. I found out what happened to Masahiro.“ She poured out a disjointed tale of how their son had arrived in Fukuyama City and Lord Matsumae’s troops had put his escorts to death. ”The maid saw. But the Ezo concubine says he’s alive, in the keep.“
Sano was amazed that Reiko had apparently managed to locate their son. Even after nine years of marriage, her daring, her abilities, and her luck never failed to surprise Sano. And praise the gods, Masahiro was alive!
“But I couldn’t get to him,” Reiko said, her voice breaking. “There are guards at the keep. And then they started chasing me.” Eyes fever-bright, she tugged at Sano. “We have to go to Masahiro. Can’t you get us out of here?”
Sano himself was frantic to rescue their son now that he knew, at long last, where and how close Masahiro was. He wanted to fight his way to the keep with his bare hands. Instead he told Reiko how little freedom he had and explained the situation with Lord Matsumae. “One step out of line could push him over the edge. He could kill us all. And Masahiro would be an orphan alone in this hell.”
Reiko nodded unhappily; she knew he spoke the truth.
“The best thing to do is solve the crime,” Sano said. “Maybe then Lord Matsumae will come to his senses-or the spirit of Tekare will leave him, whatever the case may be-and he’ll set us all free, including Masahiro. Then we can all go home.”
Reiko didn’t ask when that might be; nor did she protest. She sat perfectly still, her knuckles pressed against her mouth, her eyes unfocused. Sano could feel her desperation and her struggle to contain it so that it wouldn’t burden him. Embarrassed in the presence of her grief, the other men slipped out of the room, leaving Sano and Reiko alone. He could see how close she was to breaking. He had to give her some hope, and something else to concentrate on besides the thought their son a prisoner, unreachable, and in who knew what condition. “Reiko-san, listen,” he said.
Dropping her hands, she turned on him a gaze so brimful of pain that he could barely stand to meet it.
“The faster I solve the crime, the sooner everything will be all right,” Sano said. “I need your help.”
“Help?” Reiko’s one word conveyed that she had none to give, and bewilderment that Sano should expect her to care about the investigation at a time like this.
“Yes,” Sano said. “You’ve always helped me with investigations. Do you remember when we were first married? And our wedding was disrupted by the murder of the shogun’s favorite concubine?”
Reiko stared as if she’d forgotten because her present-day woes had blotted out happy memories from the past.
“You wanted to help me find out who the killer was. I said no, because I didn’t think it was a woman’s place to investigate murders and you wouldn’t be any use.” Sano smiled, his heart warmed by the thought of a younger, willful, passionate Reiko. “Well, little did I know. You proved I was wrong.”
Did a ghost of a smile alter Reiko’s tragic expression? Encouraged by this real or imagined sign that he was reaching her, he said, “Without you, I wouldn’t have solved that case, or the others that followed. No matter the trouble or the danger, you were always brave, always ready to go anywhere and do anything. I could always count on you.”
Sano took her hands in his. They were clenched into fists, all hard, cold bone. “Can I count on you now?”
Reiko averted her gaze. Sano could feel in her exactly what he’d felt when he’d thought Lord Matsumae had killed his son-the temptation to give up, the lack of the strength to cope anymore. But he also felt the stubborn spirit in Reiko that refused to be beaten down. After a long moment passed, she said, “What do you want me to do?”
Relief broke through Sano. “Before you came in, Hirata and I were discussing what we’ve learned about the murder so far.” He summarized it for Reiko. “It appears that Tekare had many enemies. Some could be right here inside the castle. And there’s a group of possibilities that you should have better luck investigating than I would.”
Reiko lifted her eyes to him. He was gratified to see a glimmer of interest in them. “The women?”
“Yes,” Sano said. “They would have known Tekare, and they’ll probably be more willing to talk to you than to me.”
This was Reiko’s strength as a detective: the ability to get close to the women associated with crimes and elicit the most private facts from them. She said, “I already know that the Japanese ladies hate Ezo concubines. And maybe the Ezo concubines didn’t get along with one another.” Her natural curiosity revived. “If one of those women killed Tekare, I’m going to find out.”
“Good,” Sano said, knowing what a monumental effort she was making for his sake and their son’s.
“But how will I talk to them if I’m locked in here?” That seemed a minor obstacle compared to others they’d
