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One side of Emi’s lovely face was white in the moonlight, the other dark with the bruise where the mean woman had hit her. “I’m glad to see you, but why did you come back? You’re going to be beaten for running away.”

“You helped me once,” Taeko said. “I need you to help me again.”

Emi drew a sharp, frightened breath. Taeko hated to press Emi, but she was desperate. She said, “I know you didn’t tell me everything last time. What else do you know about Lord Tsunanori’s wife?”

“I can’t tell you,” Emi whispered. “I’ll get in trouble.”

“Please.” Taeko grabbed Emi’s hand. “It’s important. If you don’t tell me, my family and friends will die!”

Emi’s eyes, immense and black in the moonlight, filled with confusion. “You’re not really a poor orphan, are you? Who are you really? What do you want?”

“No, I’m not,” Taeko confessed, sorry she’d deceived Emi. “My father is a samurai. His master is in trouble. I have to find out who killed Lord Tsunanori’s wife.”

“Why?”

Aware that she wasn’t making much sense, Taeko said, “Because.” She gripped Emi’s hand tighter. “Now tell me!”

Emi’s hand wilted as she gave in to the habit of following orders. “I saw Namiji.”

“Who is Namiji?”

“She took care of Lady Tsuruhime when Lady Tsuruhime got smallpox,” Emi explained. “But this was maybe six or seven days before then.”

Taeko struggled to be patient. “What was Namiji doing when you saw her?”

“She was in Lady Tsuruhime’s room,” Emi said. “She was scrubbing the bed.”

Puzzled, Taeko said, “Scrubbing, how?” Beds weren’t usually scrubbed. The mattresses were hung outside to air, and the linens washed.

“With a dirty sheet. It looked like there was blood on it. And yellow stains. She rubbed it all over the mattress and the quilts and the pillow.”

“Why?” Using a dirty sheet to scrub a bed made no sense to Taeko.

“I don’t know. I was afraid to ask. She stuffed it in the cabinet.”

Taeko felt sick with disappointment. She’d disobeyed her mother and come back to this scary place to hear about a servant acting strangely?

Emi chewed her lip, then said, “I just thought of something else.”

“What?” Taeko’s hope resurged.

“I saw Namiji with that sheet again later,” Emi said. “She was in the back courtyard. It was the night after Lady Tsuruhime got smallpox.”

Taeko pretended to be interested because she didn’t want Emi to think her information was worthless. “What was Namiji doing?”

“She was burning the sheet.”

Quick footsteps approached. The girls looked at each other in fright. Emi rose and said, “You’d better go.”

Angry voices called, “Emi! Taeko!” It was Kiku and the housekeeper.

Emi seized Taeko’s hand. “Come with me!”

They ran past buildings, through grounds and passages. It was so dark that Taeko couldn’t see where she was going. She blindly trusted Emi. They came to a compound that was under construction, deserted. Piles of lumber and roof tiles waited by the wall. Taeko spied a gate and started toward it, but Emi held her back.

“No! There’s a guard outside.” Emi pointed to a lumber pile. “Climb on that. Jump on top of the wall and go over the side.”

The pile seemed as tall as the sky. Taeko gulped. She was afraid of high places.

“Hurry!” Emi whispered as the footsteps and voices came closer.

Taeko began to climb. Her heart beat so hard, it felt like it would jump out her throat. She crawled on top of the pile and stood on the uneven planks. The short distance to the wall looked as wide as the Sumida River, the gap bottomless. Taeko breathed so fast, she felt dizzy. With a wordless prayer on her lips, she jumped.

She flew through the air for an instant that lasted forever. Landing on the wall, she teetered, waving her arms. She crumpled, clutched the rough surface, and gasped.

“Go!” hissed Emi.

Taeko sat with her legs dangling over the wall. She shut her eyes and dropped far, far down to the street.

34

“The court will now hear the evidence against Sano.” Yanagisawa spoke from the dais. “I call the first witness.”

The three judges sat silently in their row, Sano on his knees on the mat on the shirasu.

“Aoki Kenzan, step forward,” Yanagisawa said.

Sano frowned, recognizing the gray-haired samurai who rose from the audience, walked up the aisle, and knelt near him to his left.

“State your position,” Yanagisawa ordered.

“I’m a retainer to Sano-san,” Aoki said. “I’m captain of the night watch at his estate.”

Sano stared at Aoki in disbelief. The man had served him for fourteen years. “You’re testifying against me?”

“You’ll have a chance to speak later,” Yanagisawa said coldly. “Until then, be quiet or forfeit your chance to defend yourself.”

Captain Aoki cast a miserable, pleading gaze at Sano. “I’m sorry, master.”

Sano supposed Yanagisawa had threatened Aoki into betraying him, but the betrayal still hurt. Yanagisawa said, “Captain, please describe what happened last night.”

“I was at my post in the barracks. It was about half an hour before midnight.” Aoki’s voice quavered. “Sano-san came and asked me to fetch a smoking basket with hot coals, a jar of kerosene, and some rags.”

“Aoki-san, you know I never did that!” Sano burst out.

“I’m warning you,” Yanagisawa said. “Continue, Captain Aoki.”

Tears of shame glistened on Aoki’s face. “I put the things in a bag and gave them to Sano-san. He took the bag and left the estate.”

Sano realized that although Yanagisawa truly believed him to be guilty, Yanagisawa hadn’t enough evidence, so he’d fabricated some.

“That will be all, Captain Aoki,” Yanagisawa said.

Captain Aoki’s shoulders sagged as he left the room, a broken man who’d committed the worst violation of Bushido.

“I call the next witness,” Yanagisawa said.

This was a man wearing the armor tunic and metal helmet of a castle guard. He had a square jaw, a nervous pucker between thick eyebrows, and a thick neck. He knelt without looking at Sano. He identified himself as Lieutenant Hayashi.

“Where were you on duty last night?” Yanagisawa asked.

“In the watchtower outside the heir’s residence.”

He was one of the guards who, according to Marume’s friend among them, had left their posts to respond to a fake message, Sano realized. Hayashi had told the others to keep quiet about it.

“What happened?” Yanagisawa asked.

“Sano-san went to the heir’s residence,” Lieutenant Hayashi said in a small voice.

“Was he carrying anything?”

“Yes. A bag.”

Yanagisawa aimed a significant look at the judges. “The bag that held the items Sano had obtained from Captain Aoki.” His gaze dared Sano to say the lieutenant was lying, to forfeit his right to defend himself. Lieutenant Hayashi raised his shoulder, as if warding off heat from Sano’s outraged stare.

“What happened next?” Yanagisawa said.

“I didn’t see Sano-san go inside the building-it was too dark.” Hayashi’s speech sounded wooden, rehearsed. “A little while later, he came hurrying back down the passage.”

“Did he still have the bag?”

“No.” Without further prompting, Hayashi said, “Then the fire started.”

The judges nodded at one another. Sano was furious because they were accepting the evidence without question, but he hadn’t expected otherwise of Yanagisawa’s cronies.

Yanagisawa dismissed the lieutenant. “Now I will present the physical proof of Sano’s guilt.” He beckoned a guard stationed along the wall.

The guard brought the metal smoking basket, the jar, and the rags. He set them on the dais by Yanagisawa, who held them up one by one. “This jar contained the kerosene Sano-san poured under the heir’s residence. This is the basket in which he carried the burning coals he used to start the fire. The rags are leftover kindling. When I arrived at the scene, after the fire, I caught Sano trying to remove them. But that’s not the most conclusive proof.”