“Haru will be fine,” Sano said. “The two guards I stationed outside her cell will protect her, and Dr. Ito will tend her injuries. I’ve warned the warden that he’ll be demoted if he allows any more harm to come to her. The jailers have been flogged for beating Haru. They won’t bother her again.”
“But you haven’t found all the men responsible for the attack. “ Reiko described what Haru had told her. “Where’s the third one?”
“There were only two men,” Sano said as the procession slowed on its way through an outdoor marketplace.
Reiko heard firm conviction in Sano’s voice and braced herself for an argument. “Haru says there were three.”
“Hirata and I interrogated everyone at the prison, checked their whereabouts last night, and searched their quarters for clothes with fresh bloodstains,” Sano said. “We found no cause to think that anyone else besides those two jailers was involved in the attack.”
“Maybe not anyone else from the jail,” Reiko said, though troubled by the discrepancy between his version of the story and Haru’s. “The other man could have come from outside. I think he was a Black Lotus priest. He tried to threaten Haru into confessing to the arson and murders.”
“Or so she told you,” Sano said skeptically. “After the two jailers admitted beating Haru, I asked them what happened in that cell. They said they warned Haru to be quiet, but there was no other talk. The prisoners in the other cells heard nothing at all.”
“The jailers are probably Black Lotus followers, trying to protect their leader,” Reiko said. “The prisoners are probably lying because they’re afraid of the jailers and don’t want to get in trouble.”
Sano shook his head; Reiko saw irritation harden his profile. “If anyone is lying, it’s Haru. She’s obviously trying to use a random incident to manipulate her way out of jail. I won’t fall for that, even if you do.”
Reiko thought of Haru’s words about the murdered child, and lingering doubt resurfaced.
“What is it?” Sano said, peering suspiciously through the window at her.
“Nothing.” Reiko turned away so he couldn’t read her thoughts.
She should tell him that Haru had identified the boy as Chie’s son, but she didn’t want to invite questions about what else Haru had said. Reiko envisioned her relationship with Sano as a house they’d built together, and the secrets she hid as invisible flaws in the structure. Her decision to withhold a clue from him eroded its foundation. Every new development in the case further weakened the integrity of their marriage. Reiko experienced a powerful urge to surrender the battle over Haru, placate Sano, and try to restore the harmony between them, yet her crusade against the sect forced her to stand by Haru. And a part of her still believed she was right to defend the girl.
Frustrated by Sano’s refusal to change his mind, she said, “Maybe you’re eager to believe that the attack was random because if you’d left Haru at my father’s house, it wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t like to think that you arrested the wrong person and let the real killers get her.”
“What I like is not the issue. Evidence is.” Asperity edged Sano’s voice, and Reiko knew that her remark had pierced a sore spot in him. Clearly, he wasn’t as sure of Haru’s guilt as he wished to be, and the possibility that he’d caused undeserved harm to someone disturbed him. “The evidence says Haru is a criminal and that two jailers who enjoy molesting female prisoners attacked her.”
“Maybe you’ve overlooked evidence that proves Haru’s story,” Reiko said, desperate to prevent him from letting the Black Lotus dupe him.
Sano stared at her in shock. “Are you saying that I contrived the investigation at the jail to serve my personal aims? Can you really be so smitten with Haru that you think I would do such a dishonest, selfish thing?”
Now Reiko realized she’d again pushed him too far. She was appalled that her attempt to sway him had backfired. “No, I’m just asking you to be objective and reconsider-”
“You dare tell me to be objective?” Sano’s expression turned furious. “You’re the one who’s lost your objectivity where Haru is concerned. And you’ve forgotten where your loyalty belongs.” He was shouting, oblivious to the presence of the people around them. “Don’t you see that Haru has corrupted you? You’re becoming as deceitful and wayward as she is. Well, go ahead and choose her over your husband. Let her destroy our life, because I don’t care anymore-I’m sick of you both!”
His bitter fury seared Reiko. She was aghast to think he believed their trouble was solely due to her friendship with Haru, and that her reckless words had caused the final rupture between them. How could she explain that there was much more involved than a fight over the girl, and that his honor was at stake, without further angering him?
Sano gave her no chance to try. “I’ll have no more of your criticism or interference,” he said, his words cutting like a steel blade, his face taut with anger. “Either you come to your senses, treat me with respect, and stay out of this investigation, or-”
He seemed to notice that he was shouting in public for all to hear, and a look of mortification came over his face. He mounted his horse and galloped ahead, leaving Reiko sitting in her palanquin, amid the ruins of their life together. He was threatening to divorce her! Imagining consequences too terrible to contemplate, she suddenly realized how much she would hate to lose him.
As Sano rode beside Hirata, emotion contradicted his ultimatum. Reiko was his wife and the mother of his son. Though he hated her stubborn defense of Haru, they’d shared so many accomplishments, happy times, and dangers. He didn’t really want to end their marriage, yet he refused to tolerate her misbehavior any longer, and if she refused to yield, there seemed no alternative except divorce. Sano maintained a stoic countenance that hid his regret and bewilderment.
Hirata said, “Maybe it’s just coincidence, but every main road we’ve tried to follow has been blocked. We’ve been constantly having to take detours.”
Sano had been too preoccupied to pay attention. Now his memory recalled images subconsciously noted: a burning trash heap at one intersection and a big stack of wood at another; jugglers performing for a crowd. None of these things was unusual, but Hirata was right to bring the combination to Sano’s notice.
“I don’t like this,” he said, looking around suspiciously.
The detours had diverted them into a labyrinth of narrow lanes between houses whose balconies almost touched overhead. Sano and his men had to ride single file, and Reiko’s palanquin barely fit. The street they were on seemed oddly empty for such a populous district, with not a soul in sight.
“I smell a trap,” Hirata said.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sano said. Slapping the reins, he called to the palanquin bearers and the guards at the rear of the procession: “Hurry.”
The procession gathered speed. Ahead loomed the portals of a neighborhood gate. Through it rushed six men dressed in hooded cloaks, with cloths tied over the lower portions of their faces. They wore daggers at their waists and carried spears. They charged at the procession.
“It’s an ambush!” Sano yelled. His party of twelve men outnumbered the attackers, but he didn’t want to be stuck in this confined space. “Go back!”
He and Hirata and the detectives turned their horses, but the palanquin, with its long poles, was too big. The bearers hastily backed down the street. Eight more hooded, masked, armed men stormed in from the opposite direction. Now the attackers had the advantage, and Sano’s party was trapped.
“Fight!” Sano shouted.