Priest Ryuko chuckled, seeing through Yanagisawa’s evasion. “There’s little danger of that, because you obviously have no suspects at all. You can’t name them because they don’t exist.”
He couldn’t name them-nor defend his competence-because casting aspersion upon his Tokugawa enemies would impugn his loyalty to the shogun, Sano understood. A muscle twitched in the chamberlain’s jaw, and anger roiled like lava in his dark eyes. The rare experience of watching someone outmaneuver Yanagisawa gave no pleasure to Sano, because this time they were on the same side.
Yanagisawa said cautiously, “Your Excellency-”
“Be quiet!” the shogun shrieked.
Amazed silence paralyzed the assembly. Yanagisawa looked dumbfounded that the shogun would speak to him thus. Hoshina sat with his jaw dropped and his gaze disbelieving. Sano knew his own expression must appear similar. A smug smile crept over Priest Ryuko’s lips.
“Not another word from you!” The shogun pointed at Yanagisawa; his voice and hand trembled with ire. He jabbed his finger at Sano and Hoshina. “Nor you, either. You have all, ahh, disappointed me. You do not deserve to be heard!”
Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina sat speechless, afraid to move. The shogun held the power of life and death over everyone, and years of faithful service or even sexual companionship wouldn’t excuse a retainer who angered him. He’d executed men for minor offenses, and in his current bad mood, he might condemn his chamberlain, police commissioner, and sōsakan-sama for talking out of turn. Sano experienced deep distress and a terrible urge to laugh. None of Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s expertise at manipulating the shogun would do them any good if he wasn’t allowed to speak.
The shogun turned to Priest Ryuko. “The men I counted on have let me down,” he lamented. “Will you help me?”
Ryuko’s dignified, somber mien didn’t hide his satisfaction. “I’ll try my humble best, Your Excellency.” He slid a sly glance at Yanagisawa, whose countenance was livid with suppressed, murderous rage.
“Then tell me how I can save my mother,” the shogun said, ready to place in Ryuko the faith he’d lost in Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hosh-ina.
“With your permission, I shall divine the answer from the oracle bones,” said Priest Ryuko.
He summoned three monks and murmured orders to them. They fetched a brazier filled with hot coals, and a black lacquer table that held incense burners, candles, sake in a cup, fruit, a bowl of cooked rice, cherry-wood sticks, and the cleaned, polished undersides of five turtle shells. The monks lit the incense and candles. One placed a turtle shell in Ryuko’s hands; the others heated sticks in the coals.
“Oh, deities of fortune, I respectfully entreat you to tell us, where is the honorable Lady Keisho-in?” Ryuko said.
A monk handed him a stick whose tip glowed fiery red. Priest Ryuko pressed the tip into a hollow bored on the turtle shell’s inner side. The shogun watched in avid anticipation, and Sano with the same disapproval that marked the faces of Yanagisawa and Hoshina. Although fortune-tellers had performed such rites on turtle shells or animal bones since ancient times, and oracles had revealed secret truths and governed the actions of emperors and generals, divination could be used by charlatans to trick the gullible.
“What must His Excellency do to bring his mother safely home?” Priest Ryuko intoned.
His assistants fanned his stick, which flamed against the turtle shell. The stench of burnt bone mingled with the sweet incense.
Sharp cracking noises erupted as the heat fissured the shell. Priest Ryuko repeated the process until the sticks had burned down to stubs, smoke hazed the chamber, and all five shells bore multiple cracks.
“What does the, ahh, oracle say?” the shogun asked eagerly.
Priest Ryuko aligned the shells on the table. As he studied the cracks through which the gods communicated the answers to queries, his expression turned grave. “The gods decline to reveal where Lady Keisho-in is,” he said.
Of course, Sano thought, while disappointment clouded the shogun’s face and Hoshina and Yanagisawa grimaced in disgust. Ryuko was too smart to name Keisho-in’s whereabouts and risk that events would prove him wrong.
“They say you must earn the knowledge,” he told the shogun.
“How? What must I do?” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi leaned toward Ryuko, hands clasped with anxious hope.
“Your regime is out of harmony with the cosmos,” Ryuko said. "Evil influences surround you and threaten your clan’s future. You must purge your court of those evil influences. Restore its spiritual balance, and the path for Lady Keisho-in’s return shall be cleared.”
“Ahh, that advice eases my mind.” Immediately the shogun’s relief turned to confusion. “But how can I, ahh, know who around me is evil?” he asked.
Sano felt a pang of dismay as he guessed what Ryuko would answer.
“I will divine names of the evil persons you must expel from the court,” Priest Ryuko said.
He flashed a triumphant gaze at the chamberlain and police commissioner. Sano watched their horror and panic at realizing that Ryuko had gained much control over the shogun and could depose them via false oracles. But Sano burned with an outrage that exceeded his fear of losing his own post. He felt a consuming hatred for Priest Ryuko that extended to everyone else in the room. Ryuko, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina all sought to use the kidnapping to advance themselves. All they cared about was their own political careers. And all the shogun cared about was his mother. None of them spared a thought for Reiko, Midori, or the hundred people who’d died during the massacre.
Sano’s anger swelled against the barrier of his self-control. He had to leave before he killed someone. He rose, and the other men stared, surprised that he would stand before the shogun dismissed him. Sano bowed to everyone. Then, for the first time ever, he walked from the chamber without permission from his lord. The anger roaring in his head drowned out the sound of the shogun’s voice calling to him.
Once outside the palace, he ran through the twilight, along the walled passages. He ignored checkpoint guards who shouted at him to stop for inspection. He arrived, breathless and sweating, at his own estate. The sentries opened the gate for him, and he halted in the courtyard. He bent over, panting, as cold realization quenched his anger.
Walking out on the shogun had only worsened the danger to Reiko. The shogun might order him off the kidnapping investigation-if Priest Ryuko hadn’t already persuaded their lord to banish or execute him. Then who would rescue his wife? Sano thought of Hirata. The chance that he and Marume and Fukida would find the women seemed poor, and Sano cursed his own rashness. The darkening heavens and the cool evening air reverberated with his fear that Reiko was lost forever and the world was crumbling around him.
He felt a need to do something, anything, to forestall despair, and remembered that he had a jail full of Black Lotus prisoners to interrogate. As he started toward the barracks to fetch a squad of detectives, Sano fought qualms that the Black Lotus hadn’t abducted the women and he was wasting time. A new fear for Reiko took root in him.
His wife was not inclined to sit passively enduring whatever happened to her. Sano knew Reiko would try to strike back at her kidnappers and escape. Would she succeed? Or would her daring be the death of her?
Reiko raised her hands high and stretched them toward the rafters that crisscrossed the ceiling of the prison. Her skirts were tied around her hips, her sock-clad feet planted on Lady Yanagisawa’s shoulders. Lady Yanagisawa clutched Reiko’s ankles and staggered beneath her weight. As she swayed dangerously, Reiko flailed her arms, trying to keep her balance.