Then Sano caught a whiff of Detective Ota’s breath. Instead of liquor he smelled a peculiar sweetness, like spoiled apricots. He grabbed Ota’s cup and sniffed. A trace of the odor lingered there. “It must be sleeping potion.” His fears for Reiko coalesced into the awful certainty that Lady Miyagi planned to kill her. Why else disable the men? “Come on, we’ll search the house.”
They did, and found no one.
“Lord and Lady Miyagi must have taken Reiko outside to view the moon,” Sano said, running out the back door.
The garden was deserted, but on top of the forested slope, the moonlight silhouetted a small building against the night sky. A light glowed within this. “They’re up there,” Sano said.
Carrying the lanterns, he and Hirata plunged into the woods, toiling up an elusive, overgrown path. They thrashed through low boughs, slid on pine needles and fallen leaves, clambered over rocks and fallen branches.
“I think someone’s following us,” Hirata said.
Sano ignored the warning. Breathless, he emerged from the forest and saw, above him on the grassy hilltop, a pavilion with a thatched roof. A lantern glowed behind lattice walls. Voices came from beyond the pavilion, where land met a great expanse of star-studded sky.
“Please, Cousin. Killing her will only make things worse.” It was Lord Miyagi, his voice ragged with despair.
“We have no choice,” Lady Miyagi said.
As Sano and Hirata staggered the remaining short distance up the incline, Lord Miyagi began to sob. “You can’t get away with this. And it won’t do for you to be executed for murder. How would I get along without you?”
“You couldn’t.” Bitter triumph rang in Lady Miyagi’s voice. “For thirty-three years I’ve served you, always fulfilling your wishes, protecting you from the consequences. I killed that girl from next door because she caught you spying on her in the privy when we invited her over. I was afraid she would make trouble, so I poisoned her tea. This is just one more thing I must do, so that no one ever separates us.”
Then Lady Miyagi had committed the unsolved murder that Magistrate Ueda had mentioned. Even as fear licked at Sano’s heart, wild hope surged within him. It sounded as if Reiko was still alive. Panting, he rounded the pavilion and skidded to a stop. His lantern shone upon three figures, defining them in flickering highlights and deep shadow. Lord Miyagi knelt on the path, which bordered a precipice and ended at a sheer drop into a dark abyss. From far below this came the rush of water. Some ten paces away, Lady Miyagi stood near the edge, holding Reiko by the hair. Wind swirled their brilliant robes.
“Reiko!” cried Sano.
The daimyo turned a tear-stained face to Sano. Lady Miyagi spun around. She held a dagger to Reiko’s throat. Reiko’s face was a mask of terror. When she saw Sano, gladness filled her eyes. She started to speak, but Lady Miyagi jabbed her with the tip of the blade, rasping, “Quiet!”
“Drop the dagger,” Sano ordered Lady Miyagi, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. Dread assailed him. “You’re under arrest for the murders of Lady Harume and Choyei.” He guessed that Reiko must have somehow discovered the truth, provoking Lady Miyagi’s attack. “Killing my wife won’t help you.” Setting down his lantern, Sano beckoned. “Let her come to me.”
“Do as he says, Cousin,” begged Lord Miyagi.
The weapon wavered in Lady Miyagi’s unsteady hand, but she still gripped Reiko tightly. Desperation glazed her eyes. Her long hair whipped in the wind. Sano barely recognized the prim matron he’d met two days ago. Cheeks flushed, chin bloodstained, and teeth bared in a grotesque rictus, she looked like a madwoman. And Reiko’s life depended on his ability to reason with her.
“Sōsakan-sama, my wife is not really a bad person,” said Lord Miyagi. “It’s Lady Harume who was evil. She was blackmailing me. My wife only wants to protect me.”
Sano said to Lady Miyagi, “If you let Reiko go, I’ll advise the shogun to take the special circumstances into account. I’ll recommend a lighter sentence.” His spirit recoiled from the thought of letting a murderer escape justice, but he would say anything, do anything, to save Reiko. “Just come away from the precipice, and let’s talk.”
Lady Miyagi didn’t move. Sano saw Reiko’s throat contract, heard her breathing accelerate, and saw the glassiness of her eyes. “Relax, Reiko,” he called, fearing she would die of terror. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Listen to the sōsakan-sama,” Lord Miyagi beseeched his wife. “He can help us.”
But Lady Miyagi’s red-eyed gaze bypassed Sano as if he didn’t exist, fixing on her husband. “Yes, Harume was evil.” Replete with sincerity, the words issued from some dark, secret place inside her. “She had the audacity to conceive your child.”
“My child?” Confusion lifted Lord Miyagi’s voice. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“The child Harume was carrying when she died,” Lady Miyagi said. “I saw her at the shrine of Awashima Myōjin.” This Shinto goddess was the patron deity of women. “She hung a prayer tablet beside the altar, asking for a safe delivery of the child. I poisoned the ink-to kill them both.”
“But I never even touched Harume!” The daimyo crawled past Sano to kneel near his wife. “Cousin, you know what I am. How can you think I fathered a child on her?”
“If it wasn’t you, then who else?” Lady Miyagi demanded. “Not the shogun, that impotent weakling.” Glaring down at her husband, she lowered the dagger. “All these years, I’ve tolerated your affairs with other women and never complained, because I didn’t think you would touch them; didn’t think you could. I believed that in your heart you were true to me.”
Dividing his attention among Lady Miyagi, the dagger, and Reiko, Sano eased closer, sending his wife a silent message: Just a moment more, and I’ll save you!
“I thought we were spiritual lovers. Mated forever, like the swans on our family crest. Sharing everything.” Lady Miyagi’s mouth turned down; tears spilled over her face. “But now I know better. You sneaked away and bedded Lady Harume without telling me. You betrayed me!”
“Cousin, I never-”
“I know how much you want a son. I couldn’t let Harume’s child be born. That would have encouraged you to beget another, from one of your ladies. She would become your new wife, and the child your heir. You would have cast me aside. How could I survive without your protection?”
At last Sano understood the true reason for Lady Harume’s murder. A misunderstanding had fostered jealousy. The unborn child, not the mother, had been the intended victim of the poison. Quietly Sano crept up on Lady Miyagi and Reiko.
“You killed Wren and Snowflake so they couldn’t have sons by me.” Dumbfounded, Lord Miyagi shook his head. “But why kill a drug peddler?”
Conviction hardened Lady Miyagi’s teary gaze. “I did it so he couldn’t identify me as the person who bought the poison. I was going to kill that odious freak-show proprietor who found out and tried to blackmail me, but I lost the chance. Don’t you understand that I did it all so everything would stay the same between us?”
“Cousin, I would never cast you off,” Lord Miyagi wailed. “I need you. Maybe I’ve never said so before, but I love you.” He extended his clasped hands. “Please, give the sōsakan-sama his wife, and come to me!”
“I can’t.” Lady Miyagi took a step closer to the edge of the precipice. Sano’s heart banged against his rib cage; he halted in his tracks, throwing out an arm to keep Hirata back. Any movement might goad Lady Miyagi into hurting Reiko. “I’ve watched you look at her. I know you want her. The only way I can make sure she never bears you a son is by killing her.”
She yanked the dagger up, poking the tip into the soft flesh under Reiko’s jaw. Terror shot through Sano. “Listen. Your husband wasn’t the father of Harume’s child,” he said, fighting to keep calm. “He didn’t betray you. Harume had another lover. And Reiko is mine. She’s not available for Lord Miyagi’s use. So give her to me, now.”