“Your father was wrong. He sees everything through his own warped vision. Don’t always trust his judgment. Don’t be like him.”
As Sano spoke, it occurred to him that Masahiro had inherited many of Sano’s own traits-his individuality, his willingness to take dangerous risks-and maybe Yoritomo wasn’t the only son who would be better off for not imitating his father.
“Don’t you criticize my father!” Yoritomo was so angry that spittle frothed out of his mouth. “He’s the only person who cares about me. You’re the one who’s untrustworthy! You betrayed me! And now you’re trying to turn me against my father!”
“That would be the best thing that could happen, for your sake, not mine. If you continue to follow your father’s example, you’re heading for serious trouble.”
“I won’t listen to any more of this! I don’t care what you think!” Yoritomo thrust his face close to Sano’s, shook his fist, and spoke through gritted teeth. “You are my enemy. The fight between us won’t end until one of us is dead!”
* * *
Hirata met detectives Marume and Fukida outside Sano’s office. “Well, hello,” Marume said. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time, I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Where have you been?” Fukida asked.
Hirata didn’t answer. He felt their antagonism and fear as they brushed past him. Waiting in the cold, dim passage, he dreaded his talk with Sano. His nerves were still on edge from his encounter with Tahara, Deguchi, and Kitano. Could they really influence fate through magic rituals? Hirata had begun to doubt it, even though he wanted to believe it. Were they the most accomplished martial artists in history, or were they mad? And what did they expect to happen as a result of a thrown branch?
Sano arrived. His face was somber; his aura glinted with strain and frustration beneath a haze of fatigue. Sometimes when two people had an exchange that produced strong emotions, each transferred energy to the other. Hirata sensed a tinge of Yoritomo’s malevolent energy on Sano. Whatever had occurred between Sano and Yoritomo hadn’t been good.
“Come in,” Sano said, and walked past Hirata into his office.
His brusqueness told Hirata that nothing good was going to happen during this exchange, either. They knelt, Sano behind his desk on the dais and Hirata opposite on the floor.
“Have you identified Magistrate Ueda’s attacker?” Sano asked.
“Not yet, but I found a clue at the scene.” Hirata explained about the arrow. “I followed the man’s trail, but I haven’t been able to pick up his aura.”
“Did you look for witnesses?”
Hirata could see that Sano knew he hadn’t. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Never mind. I saved you the trouble. There aren’t any witnesses.” Sano leaned his elbows on his desk and studied Hirata. “What have you been doing all day?”
Hirata owed Sano the truth. “I found out who’s been stalking me.” But he didn’t want to reveal the details until he’d had time to think them over. He merely named Tahara, Deguchi, and Kitano. “I went looking for them.”
“Did you find them?”
Hirata especially didn’t want to tell Sano about the secret society. Sano wouldn’t believe its claims. And despite the fact that Hirata was skeptical himself, he felt strangely protective toward the three men.
“No,” Hirata said. It was technically the truth: They’d found him. “But before I knew it, the day was gone.” The disappointment in Sano’s eyes hurt Hirata more than anger would have. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry that you’re having this trouble. I know it’s serious, and I’ve tried to be patient, but-” Sano’s breath gusted out. He said with a mixture of concern and vexation, “This isn’t a good time for you to be going off on personal business. If I can’t count on you, then tell me. I can have Detectives Marume and Fukida take over your duties.”
They would like that, Hirata thought. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, although he appreciated Sano’s offer. Most masters expected unstinting service, no excuses or exceptions; but Sano wasn’t that sort of master. He never forgot that Hirata had saved his life, at great cost to himself, and he was always ready to repay the debt. That made Hirata reluctant to take advantage of Sano’s generosity. “I won’t take off again.”
“Good.” Sano seemed glad to consider the air cleared and the issue settled. “Because I have a new task for you.” He took a folded paper from beneath his sash. “These are suspects in the attack on Magistrate Ueda.” He explained how Reiko had identified them from the tattoo her father had described and a search through the Court of Justice records. “Track them down.”
Hirata took the list. “I’ll start first thing in the morning.” As he walked down the passage toward his quarters, he vowed to atone for neglecting his duty. He wouldn’t let the secret society override his loyalty to Sano.
* * *
By mutual agreement Sano and Reiko didn’t talk about Magistrate Ueda, the forty-seven ronin, or anything else disturbing while they ate dinner with Chiyo and the children. Later, when they went to bed, Reiko fell asleep at once, but Sano lay awake beside her in the gray glow of moonlight on snow. Troubling thoughts made his body restless despite a long, difficult day and the previous night with little sleep. He couldn’t find a comfortable position.
Reiko stirred. “Can’t you sleep?”
“No.” Sano flopped onto his back.
Reiko curled against him, warm and drowsy. “What are you thinking about?”
“The attack on your father. Maybe I’ve been approaching the investigation in the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” Reiko was fully awake now.
“I assumed that the judges or Yanagisawa were behind the attack, because they were the only ones besides myself who knew what was going on in the supreme court. But maybe the person who’s responsible is someone who doesn’t know where the judges stand. Someone who has a personal stake in the outcome of the case nonetheless.”
He felt a jolt of surprise run through Reiko. “Are you talking about Oishi?”
“All the forty-seven ronin,” Sano said.
Reiko propped herself on her elbow to look at him. “Do you think they’re behind the attack on my father? But they’re locked up.”
“There are ways to get around that. And who else would care as much about the court’s verdict?”
Reiko turned over on her back. Gazing at the ceiling, she said, “The verdict will mean life or death for them. That’s more serious than politics or principles, which are the reasons that other people are interested in the case.”
“Killing judges would certainly delay the verdict.”
“Every day it’s delayed is another day that the forty-seven ronin get to stay alive.”
“They wouldn’t have known that your father is leading the faction that wants to save them.” Sano added, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
They pondered in silence. Then Sano said, “There are other people besides the forty-seven ronin who have a personal interest in the verdict. Oishi’s wife. And Lord Asano’s.”
Reiko protested, “I can’t believe it’s one of them! They’re just…”
“Just women?” Sano chuckled. “There are other women besides you who are capable of killing or sending someone else to do it.” During past investigations he’d met several.
“I don’t believe Ukihashi and Lady Asano are capable,” Reiko said.
“If we want to get to the truth about this, we should keep our minds open.”
“You’re right. I’ll go and see them tomorrow.”
“I’ll question Oishi and his men.” A thought struck Sano. “There’s somebody we’re forgetting.”
“Who?”
The sound of weeping drifted down the corridor. Their guest was having a sleepless night, too. Reiko said, “Okaru?” in a tone of disbelief.
“Okaru also has a stake in the case. And remember, we’re keeping our minds open.”
Reiko sighed. “Very well. I’ll talk to her, too.”