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“Yes, I think we went by the tent camps. In fact, I’m sure we did.”

Sano thought the guard would probably swear that Tsuruhime had wallowed in the cesspools. He dismissed the man. As the interrogation continued in this fashion, Lord Tsunanori’s retainers wandered out of the room, probably to tell the other household members the questions Sano was asking and the answers Lord Tsunanori wanted them to give. Then came the woman with the white head drape. Her brown-and-lavender flowered kimono was made of cotton but finer than the usual indigo garb worn by servants. Walking up to the dais, she carried her slim, curved figure with a dignity unusual for a commoner.

“What is your name?” Sano asked.

“Namiji.” The woman bowed.

Sano saw what the shadow cast by the white drape partially hid. Round scars stippled with pits marred her complexion. They disfigured the visible half of her mouth and nose, although the eye on that side of her face was clear and well shaped, its expression intelligent. This was the woman who’d had smallpox during her youth, who’d been Tsuruhime’s nurse. Instinct told Sano that she was the most important witness here and he must not let Lord Tsunanori meddle during her interrogation.

He rose and said, “I’m arresting this woman.”

Lord Tsunanori’s loose mouth dropped. “Why?” The woman shrank from Sano, pulling the drape tighter around her face.

“She’s wanted by the law, for suspicion of thievery,” Sano improvised. “I recognized her name and description.”

He stepped off the dais, seized her arm. She recoiled, protesting, “I’ve done nothing wrong!” Her voice was husky, as though the smallpox had scarred her throat.

“You’re making that up.” Caught between disbelief and offense, Lord Tsunanori said, “You can’t go around taking people’s servants.”

“Watch me,” Sano said.

Marume took the nurse’s other arm and helped Sano pull her toward the door. Lord Tsunanori and his retainers hurried after them. Sano was afraid they would use force to stop him and then would come the fight he wanted to avoid, that could provoke the entire daimyo class into rebellion. But he had to secure his witness.

Lord Tsunanori pushed past Sano and Marume in the corridor, flung out his arms to block their passage, and sputtered, “I won’t let you do this!”

“Why are you so afraid?” Sano countered. “What is it you think she’ll say when she’s not under your control?”

Lord Tsunanori rolled his tongue under his lips. His gaze moved from Sano to the nurse. Then he spoke with his usual arrogant confidence. “Go ahead, take her. See if I care.”

Sano and Marume escorted the nurse from the mansion. She went without resisting. Lord Tsunanori didn’t follow them outside. His sentries watched Sano and Marume join their troops in the street. Sano saw two bearers carrying a palanquin for hire. He waved them over. When they set the black wooden sedan chair on the ground, he told Namiji, “Get in.”

Still holding the drape over her face, she settled herself in the shadowed interior of the palanquin. Sano spoke to his two troops, in a low voice that she wouldn’t hear. “Take her to my estate. Tell my wife that she’s Namiji, the nurse who took care of the shogun’s daughter. My wife will know what to do with her.” Reiko would be happy to question her and find out what she knew about the murder. “Don’t tell her where you’re taking her or why.”

The troops rode off, escorting the bearers and palanquin toward the castle. Sano and Marume mounted their horses.

“Where are we going?” Marume asked.

“To begin my work as Chief Rebuilding Magistrate. Better to let Yanagisawa think I’m bowing to his authority than let him suspect I’m working against him behind his back.”

As they rode around a team of oxcarts laden with stones, Marume said, “A fat lot we learned from that disgusting Lord Tsunanori.”

“On the contrary,” Sano said. “He told us that he had reason to kill his wife. And who would have had better opportunity than him, the lord of the estate?”

“But we came up empty as far as Yanagisawa is concerned.”

Sano nodded with regret. “I would have liked to ask Lord Tsunanori if Yanagisawa or any of his people had been in the estate shortly before Tsuruhime took ill. But Lord Tsunanori would have guessed that I’m trying to connect Yanagisawa with her death.”

“He would have run straight to Yanagisawa and told him,” Marume agreed. “Then the investigation wouldn’t be a secret any longer.”

“And Lord Tsunanori wouldn’t have to worry that it might hurt him, because I would be too busy fighting Yanagisawa for my life.” Sano mulled over his encounter with Lord Tsunanori. “We also learned that Lord Tsunanori is hiding something. Why else would he have interfered while I questioned his people?”

“Yes, and he was pretty quick to jump to the conclusion that his wife had been murdered and he’s a suspect,” Marume said. “That looked like a guilty conscience. When Lady Nobuko came to see you, did she mention that he hated his wife and wanted to be rid of her?”

“No.” Sano felt a surge of anger toward Lady Nobuko. Not only did he not have evidence against Yanagisawa; he had an accomplice who lied to him.

“Why didn’t she?”

“That’s a good question,” Sano said.

9

“There’s a visitor here for you, Lady Reiko,” the maid said.

“Who is it?” Reiko knelt in the bath chamber, washing her daughter Akiko’s hair.

Bent over a basin of water, Akiko wriggled as Reiko scrubbed her scalp. “Mama, you’re getting soap in my eyes!”

“Hold still!” Reiko said.

Akiko shrieked and flailed her arms. “I don’t like my hair washed!”

“It’s a woman named Namiji.” The maid backed out of the doorway to avoid splashes.

“You wouldn’t need it washed if you hadn’t been playing in the stables. How many times have I told you not to?” Reiko struggled to hold onto her daughter and her temper. She asked the maid, “Who is this Namiji?”

“But I like the horses,” Akiko protested.

Reiko had liked them, too, when she’d been a child and her grandmother had told her to stay away from them because they were dangerous. Akiko was a young version of herself-brave, adventuresome, rebellious.

“The horses could bite you or trample you,” Reiko said. “You’re lucky that you only fell in manure and got it in your hair. Now stop fighting me!”

“She’s a nurse,” the maid said.

“We don’t need a nurse,” Reiko said. “Nobody is sick.” Akiko’s fist hit her stomach. “Ouch! Stop! Don’t do that! You’re going to hurt your baby brother or sister!”

“I don’t want a baby brother or sister.” Akiko began to cry.

Reiko realized that Akiko was already jealous of the new child. She and Akiko had a difficult relationship, and not only because they were so much alike. Akiko seemed to crave Reiko’s love while spurning it and doing her best to anger Reiko. She’d refused to let the maids wash her hair; she’d insisted that Reiko do the dirty work. She must sense that a baby would steal attention from her mother, which she wanted for herself.

“The nurse took care of Tsuruhime, the shogun’s daughter,” the maid said. “Your husband sent her. He said you would know what to do.”

Now Reiko understood that Sano had sent a witness for her to question. Elated because she now had a chance to help save her family, she wrapped a towel around Akiko’s clean, wet head and rose.

“Don’t go!” Akiko wailed.

“I’ll be back soon.” Reiko pulled away from Akiko’s clinging hands. It seemed she was always leaving Akiko, and Akiko always felt abandoned. Reiko recalled the time when Masahiro had been kidnapped and Reiko and Sano had left home to rescue him. Akiko had been too young to remember; yet on some level she knew her mother had deserted her and she’d not forgotten. But there was nothing to do about it now. Reiko hurried to the reception room.