The warden’s face assumed a blank expression that hid whatever he thought about the unconventional behavior of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama. He said, “Please come with me.”
As the whole party moved toward the fortress, Reiko listened to the conversation between Sano and the warden, who walked with Hirata several paces ahead of her.
“Have you found out who hurt Haru, or why?” Sano said.
“Not yet,” the warden said.
“What is Haru’s condition?”
“She’s very shaken and still won’t talk.”
They reached the prison fortress, and sentries opened the heavy door. A cacophony of screams and moans burst upon Reiko. As she followed Sano and the other men down a labyrinthine corridor, the stink of feces, urine, vomit, and rotting garbage engulfed her; flies swarmed. She held her sleeve over her nose. In the meager sunlight that shone through high windows, she saw dirty water leaking from under the closed doors of the cells that lined the corridor. Within these Reiko heard women muttering, pacing, thumping the walls. She lifted the hem of her kimono out of the filth and trudged on.
The warden opened the door of a cell, then stood aside to let Sano and Hirata enter. Reiko slipped in after them. She saw Haru lying on a pile of straw on the floor, facing away from the door. There were raw welts on her bare legs and bloodstains on her gray robe. Her body shook in continuous tremors. Appalled, Reiko forgot her own discomfort.
“Haru-san!” she exclaimed, moved by pity.
The girl turned her head. Reddish-purple bruises ringed both eyes. Her nose and lips were swollen and caked with blood. At the sight of Sano and Hirata, she recoiled in terror. Then she saw Reiko. A weak, plaintive cry issued from her. Heedless of the dirty floor, Reiko knelt and gathered Haru in her arms. Haru sobbed and clung to her, while Reiko angrily eyed the warden, who’d let this happen.
“I want a basin of hot water and cloths so I can clean her,” Reiko said to him.
The warden looked surprised that she’d spoken, then affronted. He turned to Sano.
“You found her like this?” Sano asked him.
“Yes.”
“And you’ve not treated her injuries?” Disapproval cooled Sano’s voice.
“It’s not our practice to pamper criminals,” the warden said defensively.
“Get the bath supplies,” Sano ordered, “and fetch Dr. Ito.”
The warden left to obey. Reiko’s anger extended to Sano. He didn’t really care about Haru; he just wanted to keep her alive for her trial. Having arrested her, he was partly responsible for her suffering. Reiko averted her eyes from him and soothed Haru until the girl quieted.
“What happened, Haru-san?” Reiko said gently.
Haru pressed her damp, feverish face against Reiko’s shoulder. She mumbled, “There were three men. They hurt me.”
She began weeping again. Reiko patted her back. “It’s all right, you’re safe now.” She would have liked to give Haru more time to tell the story at her own pace, but Sano and Hirata were waiting for information, and Reiko feared they would intercede if she delayed too long. “Who were the men?”
“I don’t know. They wore masks.” Huge sobs convulsed Haru. “I tried to fight back, but they-they-”
Her hand moved down over her pubis. Now Reiko noticed how much blood there was on the lower portion of Haru’s robe, and understood what else the gang had done. She whispered, “Oh, no.” Glancing up, she saw her own comprehension and pity reflected on Sano’s face, but his reaction didn’t ease her ire toward him.
“We need to question all the jail personnel,” Sano said to Hirata. “Assemble them outside.”
Hirata departed. Two prison guards brought in clean rags and a basin of steaming water. An elderly man with a stern face and white hair accompanied them. He wore the dark blue coat of a physician and carried a wooden chest.
“Good morning, Sano-san,” he said.
“Thank you for coming, Ito-san,” said Sano. “Please allow me to introduce my wife.”
Reiko and Dr. Ito exchanged bows, regarding each other with mutual interest. “It’s an honor to meet you,” Reiko said.
“The honor is mine,” Ito replied sincerely. He saw Haru, and concern deepened the creases in his forehead. “This is my patient? Perhaps you would be kind enough to assist while I treat her?”
Haru shrank away from him, whimpered, and clung to Reiko.
“Don’t be afraid,” Reiko said. “We’re going to make you feel better.”
She leveled a cool gaze at Sano, hinting that Haru needed privacy and he should remove himself. He gave her a warning look, bade farewell to Dr. Ito, then left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
In the prison’s main courtyard, Sano found Hirata with the hundred men who staffed Edo Jail. The few samurai officials stood together. Forty guards had lined up in rows nearby. These were petty criminals-thieves, gangsters, brawlers, confidence men-sentenced to work in the jail. They sported cropped haircuts, cotton kimonos and leggings, and various clubs, daggers, and spears. Apart from the rest knelt the eta. Everyone bowed to Sano.
“Who was on duty in the women’s wing last night?” Sano asked them.
Three men stepped forward from the ranks of the guards.
“You found Haru after she was attacked?” Sano said.
“Yes, master,” chorused the guards.
“Do you know who attacked her?”
They shook their heads, but Sano saw their feet shift uneasily. He didn’t think they had beaten Haru, but he guessed whom they would want to protect. He walked along the rows of guards, scrutinizing them, until one caught his attention. This guard was in his twenties, with slitty eyes under a low brow. While the other men wore old, faded, patched kimonos, the indigo fabric of his garment was dark and new.
“Where were you last night?” Sano asked him.
“Asleep in the barracks.” The guard stood with his hands clasped behind him.
Sano grabbed the guard’s hands, yanked them around, and inspected them. Raw, red scratches marked the wrists. “How did you get these?”
“I was playing with a cat,” the guard muttered, pulling out of Sano’s grasp.
“A cat named Haru?”
On a hunch, Sano lifted the guard’s kimono. He saw a dingy loincloth covered with brownish bloodstains: The man had changed his outer clothes after assaulting Haru, but not his underwear. Disgust filled Sano. His belief that Haru was a killer limited his sympathy for her, but he abhorred people who preyed on the helpless.
“Who were your accomplices?” he demanded.
Down the row, another guard started running toward the gate. Hirata and two other detectives chased and caught him. They forced him to the ground. Sano walked over to the captive; who lay facedown while the detectives held him.
“He’s one of the attackers,” Hirata said, pointing to the scratches on the guard’s arms.
The warden joined them. “These two men are known for sporting with female prisoners,” he said.
Then the attack on Haru was an ordinary incident of violence at Edo Jail and unrelated to the murder case, Sano thought. Still, he needed to be certain. He addressed the guard: “Why did you torture Haru?”
“We just wanted a little fun,” the man whined.
“Who was the third accomplice?”
“We didn’t do anything that doesn’t happen here all the time,” the man said.
“Never mind the excuses,” Sano said. “Answer me.”
“There wasn’t anyone else. Just the two of us.”
While her guards stood watch outside the cell, Reiko had helped Dr. Ito undress Haru and bathe her. Dr. Ito had applied healing salve to her wounds, bandaged them, and fed her a potion containing herbs to strengthen her system and opium to relieve pain. He’d promised to check on Haru later, then left. Now Haru lay on fresh straw, wearing a clean robe, covered by a blanket. Reiko sat beside her.