“Such beliefs are not of my culture.”
“So you don’t support women’s suffrage, women’s emancipation.”
“I did not say that. Amity-san is much wiser than I. I would not presume to dispute her principles.”
“Do you know of any other enemies who might wish to do her harm?”
“...I do not.” The hesitation was longer this time.
“Someone not connected with the suffrage movement with whom she’s had trouble of any kind?”
“It is not my place to pry into the affairs of my elders.”
Evasions and circumlocutions. Sabina felt as Amity did: Kamiko, for whatever reason, was keeping some sort of secret to herself.
“You are a detective, Mrs. Carpenter,” the girl said. “May I ask if Amity-san has engaged you professionally?”
“We’ve discussed it. If I do investigate, I’ll need as much information as possible. You will cooperate, won’t you?”
“Hai. Of course.”
“Tell me everything you know, no matter how little it might be. And above all, tell me no lies.”
“I do not lie.”
“Withholding important information is a form of lying and lying is a sin. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes. I understand.”
Sabina sharpened her voice, darkened her expression. “By committing such a sin, Kamiko, you are doing a serious disservice to the woman you love and respect. Why? What is it you know or suspect that you’re afraid to tell?”
“I am not afraid. I—”
From outside there was a sudden terrified outcry. An instant later a second noise erupted, this one the unmistakable report of a pistol.
As swiftly as Sabina grabbed her bag and surged to her feet, Kamiko reached the louvered doors and plunged out into the garden ahead of her. Small oil lanterns lit the side terrace; thin shafts of pallid moonlight slanted through the cloud cover overhead to illuminate portions of the garden. The Japanese girl must have had the night vision of a cat; crying her guardian’s name, she raced straight ahead toward where an indistinct figure — Amity, judging by the bulk and light color of her coat — was struggling to rise from one of the cinder paths. In the next moment Sabina caught a glimpse of a shadow-shape outfitted in dark clothing running away among the tall Australian cypress. Her automatic reaction was to pursue; without hesitation she plunged ahead in that direction, yanking her Remington derringer from her bag as she ran.
The unfamiliar grounds hampered her; shrubbery branches caught at her shirtwaist and skirt, and twice in patches of grass untouched by moonlight she stumbled, the second time into a cypress trunk that fetched her a glancing blow on the left shoulder. Somewhere in the clotted dark ahead she heard thrashing movements, then a flat clanking sound, then nothing but her own accelerated breathing.
By the time she emerged into the front yard, the fleeing intruder had vanished. The gate in the iron picket fence stood open — the clanking sound she’d heard as he ran through. She raced ahead to the gate, stood swiveling her head in both directions along the street. No conveyance was parked or moving in this block, and the tree-shadowed sidewalks appeared empty.
Turning, she slipped the Remington back into her bag. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness for her to make out a cinder path that closely paralleled the house; she followed it to the side terrace, hurrying as much as could. Amity and Kamiko stood together at its edge, their faces illuminated by parlor and lantern light, the girl’s arm wrapped protectively around her guardian’s waist.
“I’m not hurt,” Amity said shakily when Sabina joined them. “The shot missed me. The assailant—?”
“Gone before I could catch up. Did you have a clear look at whoever it was?”
“No. Too dark. Just the shape of him when he appeared from behind one of the trees. That’s when I screamed and he fired at me.”
“It was a man, then.”
“I’m not sure. Dressed all in black, a cap pulled down low... it could have been a woman. My God, yes, it could.”
There was something about the way Amity spoke that last sentence that captured Sabina’s attention. But Kamiko was saying, “We must go inside, Amity-san,” in worried tones. “You must have the fire and hot tea to warm you.”
“The fire, yes, but no tea. A large glass of brandy instead.”
The girl insisted on escorting her into the house, though Amity was clearly able to walk without aid. Inside, Kamiko helped her off with her coat, saw to it that she was settled in front of the fire, then hurried out.
When Sabina sat down next to her, Amity said, her voice still a trifle tremulous, “I expect we know now that those threatening notes were genuine. Someone wants me dead.”
“You’re certain the shot was fired straight at you?”
“Yes. Why would you think— Oh. Another, harsher warning?”
“It’s possible.”
“I doubt it. That pistol was aimed straight at me. The bullet came so close I felt the wind of its passage.”
Kamiko returned just then, bearing a large snifter of brandy on the silver tray. She seemed reluctant to leave after serving it. She hovered, adding a log to the fire and then stoking the blaze, until Amity said, “That will be all for now, Kamiko. I’d like to speak to Sabina in private.”
“As you wish, Amity-san.” A bow, and the girl was gone.
“I know you didn’t have much time alone with her,” Amity said, “but were you able to find out anything?”
“Nothing definite. Only enough to agree with you that she is keeping something to herself.”
“I just don’t see how it can be important. Kamiko is devoted to me. If she knows or suspects who is behind all this devilment, she would have said so by now.”
Sabina said, “Kamiko isn’t the only one with secrets.”
Amity had been staring into the fire. Now she turned her head to look at Sabina. “You think I am?”
“I do. I had that impression in the park, and again outside just now when you said your assailant might well be a woman. You made no mention this afternoon of trouble with anyone of our sex.”
Amity started to speak, then once more shifted her gaze to the fire.
“Are you going to confide in me or not?”
“Very well.” The response came after several seconds of silence and then after a heavy sigh. “One person, yes. Possibly two.”
“Who and why?”
Instead of answering the questions directly, Amity said, “This is difficult for me to admit, but... three weeks ago I made a very foolish mistake. Burton travels so much, and I was feeling lonely and neglected. In a moment of weakness... well, to my everlasting regret I allowed myself to briefly become involved with another man, a married man.”
Sabina managed to conceal the mild surprise she felt. “I see.”
“Please don’t think too harshly of me, Sabina.”
“I don’t. I’m not judgmental. The affair is over now, I take it.”
Amity faced her again. “As of last week.”
“Does Kamiko know?”
“Of course not. I pray neither she nor Burton finds out. You’re the first person I’ve told.”
“Who is the man?”
“Fenton Egan. One of the partners in Egan and Bradford, the tea and spice importers. A customer of Burton’s, which is how I met him. Very good-looking, very superficially charming. And very unpleasant when things don’t go his way.” Amity’s mouth quirked sardonically. “Or when he finds himself caught between Scylla and Charybdis.”
“He was upset when you ended the affair?”
“I wasn’t the one who ended it. At least not on my own initiative, though I soon would have.”
“He did, then.”
“No, his wife, Prudence, found out about us — I don’t know how; she wouldn’t say. She also knew about a letter, an indiscreet letter, Fenton wrote me at the height of our... well, passion.”