“The honorable Lord Matsudaira has no experience with investigations,” said Yanagisawa, “whereas I solved the murder case of the imperial minister three years ago.” He and Sano had solved the case together, but Yanagisawa had stolen all the credit. “Amateurs should stand aside and let professionals do the job.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” the shogun said, wavering.

Lord Matsudaira glowered at Yanagisawa’s slight against him. “Tokugawa interests are at stake,” he said. “Only a Tokugawa is qualified to protect them.”

“Indeed,” the shogun said meekly.

“Excuse me, Honorable Lord Matsudaira, but I’ve been protecting Tokugawa interests very well for years,” Yanagisawa retorted. “And my friendship with Senior Elder Makino qualifies me to ensure that his wish is fulfilled. You, on the other hand, have no reason to care about avenging his death.”

“Your emotions toward Makino will interfere with your judgment,” Lord Matsudaira argued, his voice harsh and his complexion red with anger. “You can’t supervise the investigation in a fair, objective manner. I can.”

Torn between his chamberlain and cousin, loath to offend either, the shogun flung up his hands and turned to Sano. “You decide who will supervise you!”

Sano was appalled that the shogun had passed the decision to him. Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira wore expressions of displeasure that they’d failed to coax the shogun and he’d put their fate in the hands of an inferior. They fixed ominous glares upon Sano.

Once more, Sano sensed their antagonism rising toward the danger point. He pictured armies poised to charge. Again he saw the moment depending on himself.

He said, “Your Excellency, I would be honored to have both Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira supervise my investigation.”

“You asked for them both?” Reiko spoke as if she thought Sano had lost his mind.

“My only alternative would have been to choose one of them,” Sano said, “and provoke the wrath of the other.”

He and Reiko lay in bed in their chamber. He’d told her about his meeting with the shogun, as well as what he’d discovered about the death of Senior Elder Makino. A lantern on the table illuminated their somber faces as they listened to Edo Castle’s nighttime sounds of mounted troops and foot soldiers patrolling the streets and grounds, horses neighing and stomping in stables, and dogs barking somewhere on the hill. Sano ached with exhaustion from his busy day and previous night without sleep, but the meeting had left him tense and wakeful.

“I see,” Reiko said. “Choosing one would have forced you to join his faction. I think you were wise to avoid that. And whichever you didn’t choose would have interfered with your investigation nonetheless.”

“This way, perhaps they’ll counteract each other’s interference,” Sano said without much hope.

“But now you’ll have both Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira on your back, each demanding that you implicate the other in Makino’s murder and each certain to punish you if you don’t.”

“Refusing to serve either one exclusively is my only hope of conducting a thorough, impartial investigation,” Sano said, though he feared the consequences as much as Reiko did.

She turned to Sano. He took her in his arms and drew comfort from their closeness. “What happens next?” Reiko asked.

“Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa have both assigned men to observe and report to them on my investigation,” Sano said.

Reiko lay stiff in his arms, and Sano perceived that she had other worries besides the murder case. “Is something else wrong?” he said.

She emitted a tense sigh. “I went for a ride today.”

“That’s good.” Sano was glad that she’d recovered enough spirit to go outside.

“I ran into Lady Yanagisawa. Or, I should say, she ran into me.”

Sano was alarmed. The last thing they needed was that madwoman plotting more mischief against Reiko.

“Please don’t worry,” Reiko said, clearly anxious to spare Sano more problems. “I can handle Lady Yanagisawa.” She changed the subject: “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’ll go back to Senior Elder Makino’s estate and start looking for suspects. His wife, concubine, chief retainer, and houseguest are likely possibilities.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Reiko asked.

“You can make inquiries about the wife and concubine,” Sano said. Reiko moved in social circles that were closed to Sano, and she often brought him inside information about the women in a case. “And you can pray that the killer is unconnected with either Lord Matsudaira or Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and the final result of my investigation will please them both.”

6

Shortly after daybreak the next morning, Sano and Hirata arrived at Senior Elder Makino’s estate with a team of detectives and two men sent by Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa to observe the investigation. A chill rain puddled the pavements, dripped from eaves, and soaked the black mourning drapery that hung over the portals. A sign posted on the gate announced the funeral procession tomorrow. In spite of the early hour, news of Makino’s death had spread; despite the bad weather, numerous officials converged on the estate to pay their respects to Makino-or gloat over his death. Servants ushered them and Sano’s party through the courtyard, which was rapidly filling with sodden umbrellas, and into an entry way crammed with swords and wet shoes. As Sano and his party followed the crowd along the corridor, they passed a banquet room, where maids bustled, setting out food and drink for the guests.

“Detectives Marume-san and Fukida-san, you’ll cover the banquet room,” Sano said. From a reception hall down the corridor came the hum of chanting and subdued conversation. “Inoue-san, you and Arai-san take the reception hall. The rest of you, patrol the rest of the house.”

As the detectives went off to obey, Lord Matsudaira’s man said, “Wait.” He halted in the corridor, forcing Sano and Hirata to stop. He was a heavyset samurai named Otani, in his late thirties, with a puffy face. His shrewd eyes regarded Sano with suspicion. “What are your men going to do?”

“They’re going to spy on the funeral guests,” Sano said in a low voice that passersby wouldn’t hear.

“Why?” demanded Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s man, Ibe. He was a slight, nervous fellow whose nostrils twitched frequently, as if scenting trouble.

Sano realized that his two watchdogs knew nothing about investigating crimes. He said, “Senior Elder Makino’s enemies as well as his friends will be here. My men will be on the alert for any behavior or conversations that implicate anyone in the murder.”

“But I’m supposed to watch your investigation,” Ibe said, his nasal voice rising to a whine. “You can’t send your men off to do things for you in different places, because I can’t see what they’re up to and stay with you at the same time.”

“He’s right.” Otani gave his grudging support to Ibe, whom he obviously detested as a member of the enemy faction. “Lord Matsudaira said nothing should happen in this investigation without my knowledge. Call back your men.”

Sano realized with dismay that not only did Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira each want him to incriminate the other, but their representatives might keep him from accomplishing anything.

“I need my detectives to split up because I can’t be everywhere and do everything at once,” Sano explained patiently. “If we stick together, just so you can keep an eye on us, we may miss important clues.”

“Is that what your masters want?” Hirata challenged Otani and Ibe.

They exchanged uneasy glances, then shook their heads.

“Then let me conduct this investigation as I see fit,” Sano said. “When my men report their discoveries to me, you can listen. I promise we won’t hide anything from you.”