“I agree,” Hoshina said.
Captain Torai nodded. Hirata started to protest in Sano’s defense. The shogun waved his hand, shushing Hirata. “All right,” he said with a sad sigh. “I suppose I, ahh, have no choice. Chamberlain Sano, I hereby sentence you and your wife to death by, ahh, decapitation.” He told the guards, “Take him and Lady Reiko.”
The guards moved toward Sano. Victorious smiles lit Hoshina’s and Torai’s faces. Lord Matsudaira nodded, content that he’d eliminated a challenger. Hirata leapt to his feet.
“You can’t do this!” he shouted, placing himself between Sano and the guards. “I won’t let you!”
“Sit down!” Lord Matsudaira ordered.
Sano was less afraid of dying than furious at the injustice. The three years he’d labored to keep the Tokugawa regime running, to quench insurrections! The previous years he’d spent risking his life to catch criminals! According to the samurai code of honor, his masters didn’t owe him a thing for his services; but neither did he deserve to be killed on the strength of such baseless accusations. He rose, swelling with indignation, and pushed Hirata aside.
“All right,” Sano shouted, “take me!” He spread his arms. As the guards seized them, he turned his fury on the shogun, “Execute me if you will. I’m ready to die at your pleasure. But who’ll help you run the government when I’m gone?”
“Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought of that.” The shogun looked aghast at the prospect of managing national affairs by himself.
“I will,” Hoshina said, almost salivating because the post of chamberlain was within his reach.
Sano said to Lord Matsudaira, “Whoever killed Lord Mori is still out there, free as a bird. Can you take the chance that he won’t kill again? What if Lord Mori’s murder was only the first of many? Can you risk another campaign of terror?”
The spirit of the assassin dubbed the Ghost seemed to poison the atmosphere. Indecision flickered in Lord Matsudaira’s eyes. Fortunately Sano knew Lord Matsudaira and the shogun well enough to play upon their fears. He said, “History could repeat itself. I caught the Ghost for you. When I’m gone, who will catch the next renegade?”
He swept a scornful gaze over Hoshina. “Certainly not you. Remember that you let the Ghost kill five times before I stopped him.” Hoshina and Torai glared. Sano turned back to Lord Matsudaira and the shogun. “If Lord Mori’s death is part of a plot to seize power, then whoever is responsible will continue it after I’m dead and laugh at you for punishing the wrong man.” He finished with a passion born of his outrage and his will to survive: “Killing me would be a ridiculous waste. You need me alive, to find out the truth about Lord Mori’s murder and protect the regime.”
There was silence while Hoshina opened his mouth to speak, Lord Matsudaira stopped him with a glance, and the shogun tried to figure out what Sano had said. Sano stood immobilized by the guards. Then Lord Matsudaira heaved a breath of resignation.
“All right,” he said grudgingly. “Your Excellency, we must spare Chamberlain Sano’s life so that he can help us get to the bottom of this.”
The shogun nodded, happy to have a decision made for him. Lord Matsudaira gestured for the guards to release Sano. Even as they did, Sano felt less relief than a sense that he stood on a narrow line between freedom and the funeral pyre.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll continue my investigation into the murder,” he said.
Hoshina burst out, “But Chamberlain Sano and his wife are suspects. He can’t be trusted to conduct a fair investigation!”
Lord Matsudaira bent a speculative, antagonistic look on Hoshina. “Everyone is a suspect. Come to think of it, I’ve noticed that Chamberlain Sano’s personal army isn’t the only one that’s grown. How many troops do you command now? How ambitious are you?”
Hoshina subsided in dismay that Lord Matsudaira’s distrust now included him. Captain Torai said anxiously, “But don’t forget that Lady Reiko was caught at the scene. No matter what Chamberlain Sano says, she’s the most likely culprit. We can’t just let her loose as if nothing happened.”
“I’ll keep her under guard at home,” Sano said quickly.
“Fine,” the shogun said before Lord Matsudaira could speak. “Go. You’re dismissed.”
Sano bowed. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”
“But if you fail to catch the killer-or if I find out that you and your wife are guilty-be assured that I’ll show you no mercy,” Lord Matsudaira warned Sano. He turned to Hirata. “Nor you either.”
As Sano and Hirata walked out of the room, they passed Hoshina, who muttered, “Good luck, Chamberlain Sano. By the way, I hear that Lady Reiko is pregnant. It’s too bad that when you’re both executed, your new child will die, too.”
11
Sano returned to his compound with Hirata and their detectives. It was a warm, cloudy, dreary evening. Smoke from cooking fires hung in a pall over Edo Castle, which reeked of decay and brimming drains. A hush and pressure swelled the air, as if it were gathering breath for another storm. Sano received silent, respectful bows from the sentries stationed at the gates: Bad news traveled fast.
At the door of the mansion, Reiko greeted him. “What happened?” Her face was pale and wan, strained with anxiety.
“I’m glad to say that you won’t be arrested for Lord Mori’s murder,” Sano said as he and Hirata removed their shoes and swords in the entryway.
Reiko looked relieved for an instant before she read on Sano’s face that there was more to the story, and none of it good. “But…?”
“Let’s sit down,” Sano said.
She allowed Sano and Hirata to escort her to the private chambers. Her steps were heavy, burdened by fear as well as her unborn child. As they knelt, Sano thought she’d never looked so small or vulnerable.
“The shogun has allowed you to stay home, in my custody, instead of going to jail.” Sano wished he could shield her from the worst news, but he couldn’t withhold it from her. “But Lord Matsudaira and Police Commissioner Hoshina are too ready to accept that you killed Lord Mori.”
“But I didn’t! How can they even think it?” Reiko said, aghast. “Didn’t you tell them what really happened?”
“I told them what you said, but unfortunately, there are other, conflicting versions of events.”
As Sano related Lady Mori’s story, Reiko crumpled, her eyes wide with shock, her hands over her mouth. She shook her head in disbelief until he was done. Then she dropped her hands and bunched them into fists.
“Lady Mori is lying!” Anger burned away her fright. “I never even met Lord Mori.” Her distraught gaze searched Sano’s face. “Surely you don’t believe her instead of me. You can’t think that I…?”
“Of course not.” Yet even as Sano spoke, his years as a detective pressured him to remain objective, to postpone judgment until he had more evidence, just as he would during any other case.
She must have sensed his reservations, for hurt crept across her gaze, like fissures through crystal. “Lady Mori didn’t see me do any of those things with her husband because I didn’t. I told you the truth this morning.” She clasped her hands over her belly and spoke with passionate emphasis: “This is your child, not his.”
Sano avoided thinking otherwise. He was disturbed that his ingrained habit of doubting the veracity of crime suspects hadn’t gone away just because this one happened to be his wife. Even worse, he sensed Reiko hadn’t told him everything.
“Can you think of any reason why Lady Mori would incriminate you?” he asked.
“No. I thought she thought I was her friend.” Sudden inspiration altered Reiko’s expression. “Unless she found out I was investigating her husband for kidnapping and murdering boys. But I don’t see how she could have.”