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Remembering the young doshin’s performance at the temple gave Sano an idea for making better use of Hirata’s time. “Have you any good informants that you use in your work?”

“A few.” The gleam in Hirata’s eyes belied his modest disclaimer.

“Then have your men look for the dragon palanquin. You ask your contacts if they can identify the man who attacked me. You have his description. Leave a message for me at the castle gate if you learn anything. I’ll send word to the police compound if I need you for anything else.”

“Yes, sōsakan-sama”.

As Sano watched his assistant go, a rueful smile tugged at his mouth. Hirata rode like an expert now, his posture confident as he steered the horse down the crowded street. He wore his pride like a battle flag attached to a soldier’s back. Sano was glad that the investigation was bringing happiness to one of them.

He headed for the castle to see whether Noguchi had located General Fujiwara’s descendants and show the mystery witness’s kimonos to the tailors. So many paths to follow, any or none of which might lead to the killer before the four days were up. But one thing was certain: He would see Aoi tonight, and demand an explanation from her.

In the Edo Castle archives, Noguchi ushered Sano past the main study, where clerks and apprentices pored over documents, and down the corridor to his private office. Inside, chests, stacked shoulder-high and three deep, lined the walls, partially obscuring the windows. Piles of paper occupied every shelf and most of the floor. Noguchi’s desk, cluttered with writing materials, formed a small island in the middle. With foreboding, Sano wondered what Noguchi had to say that he couldn’t in one of the mansion’s more comfortable public areas.

Noguchi cleared a space on the floor, knelt, and motioned for Sano to do the same. “I hope you are well?”

Sano recognized the formality as a stalling tactic: Noguchi didn’t want to get down to business-either his, or Sano’s. A furtive wariness had shadowed the archivist’s open, friendly manner.

“As well as can be expected,” Sano replied, explaining about the murder at Zōjō Temple.

“Oh, my, oh, no,” Noguchi murmured. Then he cringed and said, “Sano-san, I regret to tell you that I can no longer associate myself with you professionally. I think you can understand why not?”

Sano looked away to hide his hurt. He could see that Noguchi had heard about the council meeting and wanted to sever their ties to avoid sharing Sano’s misfortunes. He was losing the only friend he had at Edo Castle, when he most needed sympathy and support.

“However,” Noguchi continued, “you need not fear that I mean to end our personal relationship before you can arrange for someone to take my place. I will act on your behalf on this day, which is so crucial to you.”

Sano could have argued that every one of the next four days was crucial to him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Today is your miai.” Noguchi’s forehead wrinkles began their ascent up his scalp. “Surely you’ve not forgotten?”

Sano had. Entirely. The event, to which he’d once looked forward so eagerly, couldn’t have come at a worse time. How could he interrupt his investigation to pursue a marriage that would never happen if he didn’t catch the killer by the shogun’s deadline?

“At the Kannei Temple this afternoon,” Noguchi reminded him anxiously. “Everything is arranged. The Ueda are coming. Castle palanquins will convey your mother and her maid to the temple. You will be there, won’t you?”

Sano longed to postpone the miai, but his father had wanted this marriage for him; it was an essential factor in their family’s rise to prominence. Sano couldn’t offend the Ueda by cancelling on such short notice.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

“Good.” Noguchi looked relieved. “Afterward you can engage a new go-between.”

Sano had no time to worry about finding someone to replace Noguchi. The miai would consume the afternoon. In more of a hurry than ever now, he turned the conversation to the reason for his visit. “Have you managed to locate General Fujiwara’s descendants?”

Noguchi dropped his gaze and suddenly became very busy fidgeting with an inkstone on his desk. Without looking at Sano, he said, “I am afraid you will have to discard your theory for lack of sufficient validity.”

“Discard it?” Sano echoed, bewildered. “But tonight’s murder confirmed my theory.” Then a disturbing thought struck him. “You couldn’t find the names.”

Now Noguchi met his gaze with one full of pity and chagrin. “I have the list here.” He removed a folded paper from his sash, then said with a sigh, “Oh, my. The role of harbinger of bad news is a thankless one. I hope you will not blame me for your disappointment.”

Sano snatched the list and eagerly unfolded it. As he read the names, disbelief and despair flooded him. Now he understood what Noguchi meant.

He recognized all four names, even without the descriptions Noguchi had included. All the suspects were prominent citizens- none of whom he could imagine as the Bundori Killer:

Matsui Minoru. Edo ’s foremost merchant; financial agent to the Tokugawa.

Chūgo Gichin. Captain of the Guard; one of Edo Castle ’s highest-ranking officers.

O-tama. Concubine to the commissioner of highways; subject of a famous scandal ten years ago.

To the last name, Noguchi hadn’t bothered to append a description. And he’d written it in smaller characters, as if reluctant to include it at alclass="underline"

Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu.

Chapter 19

In the seclusion of his private quarters, Chamberlain Yanagisawa held Aoi’s coded letter to the lamp flame and watched it burn. His shaking hands scattered ash onto the lacquer table. Shock and dread blurred his vision until he could no longer see the room’s carved chests and cabinets, painted murals, embroidered silk floor cushions, or the garden of boulders and raked sand outside his open window. As he absorbed the full import of his spy’s message, which he’d just received, prickly tendrils of fear spread from his heart into his throat and stomach.

He’d thought that his plan to thwart Sōsakan Sano’s investigation was working very well. From Aoi’s last report, he knew she had Sano looking all over Edo for a suspect who didn’t exist. He’d believed that Sano stood little chance of capturing the Bundori Killer.

True, Sano’s revelations at the council meeting had shaken him badly; he alone had recognized the merit of Sano’s theory, which he’d been unable to completely discredit. He’d failed to detach the shogun’s fancy from Sano, and therefore couldn’t simply banish or execute the troublesome sōsakan. Nor had he managed to relieve Sano of the murder case so that he could give it to the police, whom he controlled. But still he’d believed he would eventually prevail.

Until now.

In her message, Aoi reported the failure of her plan to sabotage Sano by sending him to an abandoned house in which her agents had planted fake evidence. Because of the priest’s murder, he must now know she’d misled him, and would cease to trust her guidance. And the witnesses from Zōjō Temple could bring Sano dangerously closer to identifying the killer.

Worse yet, according to Aoi’s informants in the castle archives, Sano’s pursuit of his theory had yielded suspects. Yanagisawa didn’t need to wait for her to collect and send the list of names to know it would include his own. In a haze of terror, he imagined his destruction at the hands of the most serious adversary he’d ever faced. The success of Sano’s investigation would mean his own ruin.

The paper burned away, obliterating Aoi’s words, but not Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s woes. He got to his feet and crossed the room. Opening the door, he shouted for his manservant, who appeared immediately.