Bowing, he said, “Good day, Honorable Magistrate. Hayashi-san. Yamaga-san. “ And to the broad man with bold features who sat by himself on Ogyu’s left, the last person in the world he wanted to see right now: ”Good day, Katsuragawa-san.”

What did the presence of the two yoriki mean? And, more important, what was his patron doing here? He hadn’t seen Katsuragawa Shundai since the visit he’d paid with his father.

The men returned his greeting with solemn formality. Ogyu motioned for Sano to kneel. Sano did, trying to read the four carefully expressionless faces.

“After much consideration,” Ogyu said, “I have decided that you were correct about Niu Yukiko and Noriyoshi.”

Sano blinked in surprise. “You have?”

“Yes. They did not commit shinjū. They were murdered.”

In his relief and elation, Sano didn’t think to ask why Ogyu had changed his mind. He thought only of the ease and joy of conducting an official investigation instead of an unofficial one. He imagined all the city’s doors opening to him. With Ogyu’s capitulation, the largest obstacle in his path to the truth had vanished. Already bursting with plans, he started to thank his superior.

“Honorable Magistrate, I-”

Ogyu raised a hand, silencing him. “Because you were absent from your post, I had no choice but to turn the investigation over to Yamaga-san and Hayashi-san. They will explain to you what has transpired.”

It was all Sano could do to keep his composure as he turned to face his colleagues. The investigation for which he’d risked and suffered so much, turned over to someone else! A terrible sense of loss burgeoned inside him.

“After making the appropriate inquiries, we had the wrestler, Raiden, arrested,” Yamaga said. “Yesterday he was convicted of murdering Niu Yukiko and Noriyoshi. Early this morning, he was executed.”

“No.” Horrified, Sano turned an incredulous stare on Ogyu and Katsuragawa. Ogyu’s expression remained impassive;

Katsuragawa’s watchful. “This can’t be. What inquiries? What makes you think Raiden killed them? What’s going on here?”

Hayashi cleared his throat. “Raiden confessed,” he said.

Sano laughed, a loud, harsh sound that made his colleague flinch. “Well, of course he did!” he shouted, remembering the tortured prisoner he’d seen at Edo Jail. “But I want to know what proof you had that he murdered anyone. Come, tell me about these so-called inquiries!”

“You dare insult me?” Hayashi’s face reddened. He started to rise, reaching for his sword.

Sano rose, too. Much as he abhorred useless violence, he would gladly have taken out his anger on Hayashi if Ogyu hadn’t interceded.

“Please, please.” The magistrate shook his head. “Let us not squabble like children.” To Sano he said, “Did you yourself not identify Raiden as a suspect?”

Sano, sinking to his knees again, understood now. Ogyu was still protecting the Nius; he’d merely switched tactics. How better to close the investigation than by arresting, convicting, and executing a scapegoat? And Sano had delivered that scapegoat straight into Ogyu’s hands. Yamaga and Hayashi had probably chosen Raiden over Kikunojo out of reluctance to offend the actor’s high-ranking patrons. The lowly Raiden had had no such protection. With growing despair, Sano felt the blood of another death upon his hands.

“I never believed Raiden was the killer,” he protested. His defense could no longer help the wrestler, except to clear his name, but he couldn’t let Ogyu close the investigation with the real killer still at large.

“Raiden told his jailers he didn’t remember committing the murders,” Hayashi said coolly, his anger under control now. “Which only means that the madness that prompted his crime also allowed him to conveniently forget it.”

The words gave Sano pause. Maybe Raiden’s “demon” had made Raiden kill, then forget. Could he have been so wrong? Had Tsunehiko died because he’d failed to see Raiden’s guilt and arrest him before the fatal trip?

“Raiden wasn’t the only one Noriyoshi blackmailed,” Sano said, fighting doubt and guilt by stubbornly sticking to his theory. “He had no reason to kill Niu Yukiko. And I think I know who did.”

“Mere supposition,” Yamaga scoffed. Hayashi murmured in agreement.

Although Sano was reluctant to reveal more of his findings after seeing how they’d just used his earlier ones, he needed the magistrate’s official sanction. Quickly he explained what he’d learned in Hakone. “I believe young Lord Niu merits scrutiny,” he finished. “And I should start by determining whether he or one of his men followed me to Totsuka and killed my secretary.”

Prudence kept Sano from accusing Ogyu outright of covering up for the Nius. To give in to the angry urge to demand explanations, to vent his fury in an outburst, would only offend his superior. He would have to be satisfied with laying out his guilty secrets and dangerous theory. With forced resignation, he waited for the reprimand he knew would come.

But Ogyu just sighed and shook his head. “The fantasies of a girl-child. And I am not sure that you are any less prone to fantasy yourself, if you attribute your secretary’s unfortunate demise to anything but a common highway murder. As to inflicting any more trouble on the Nius, that is out of the question. The true murderer has been… dealt with.”

“But-”

“The matter is closed.” As if to underscore his statement, Ogyu nodded to Yamaga and Hayashi. “You may go now.”

With a swish of silk robes, the two yoriki rose and made their bows. Sano could feel their contemptuous stares on him as they left the room.

“I wish to continue the investigation,” Sano said, although he knew that such open defiance could only worsen his position.

Ogyu exchanged an oblique glance with Katsuragawa before replying. “I am afraid you will not be investigating this or any other matter any longer, Sano-san. As of this moment, you are relieved of your post as yoriki of the city of Edo, and all its attendant duties and privileges.”

The words hit Sano like a physical blow. He actually swayed under its impact. Such a disgrace, both for him and his family! Ogyu’s face wavered before him. Sounds echoed; the room dimmed. Of the magistrate’s words he registered only a few-disjointed phrases.

“… insubordination… incompetence… disloyalty… mistake to appoint you in the first place… character unsuitable… If you would please vacate your office and your quarters at once… ”

He almost forgot the investigation that had seemed so important a moment ago. How would this affect his father?

“Sano-san. Do you understand why I am dismissing you?” Ogyu asked.

Sano opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Ogyu must have thought he intended to argue or plead, because he said, “My decision is final. There will be no appeals. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Honorable Magistrate,” Sano managed to whisper.

“And, if you would be so good as to leave Hamada Tsunehiko’s ashes with my clerk, an official representative will deliver them to his parents and offer condolences on behalf of the city.”

Sano felt no relief at being spared the task. How could Ogyu deprive him of the chance to fulfill even this responsibility? But the numbing paralysis of shock kept him from speaking. He nodded, obedient when it no longer mattered.

“Then you may go.” Ogyu paused, then added, “I hope you will find success in your future endeavors.”

Like a sleepwalker, Sano rose.

Katsuragawa spoke for the first time. “I’ll go with you.”

Sano looked at his patron in dismay. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted to clear out his office and rooms in the barracks and leave as quickly as possible. He needed time to plan what he would say to his father. But Katsuragawa stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder.