“This is Emi, a new maid I’ve just hired for the ladies,” he said to Yasue. “Put her to work.”

He departed, and Reiko felt as though she’d lost her last link with her ordinary world. She knew she wasn’t alone, because Sano had stationed two detectives inside the estate in case she needed help, but she had no idea where they were. She belatedly realized how little she knew about the lives of maids. The recollection that not all employers treated their servants as well as she and Sano did increased her terror.

“Don’t look so frightened,” Yasue said. Amusement glittered in her sharp eyes, which had yellowish whites. Her mouth, filled with large, protruding yellow teeth, grinned at Reiko. “I won’t bite you.”

She took Reiko to a cold, dank room in the servants’ quarters. On the bare earth floor lay rows of wooden pallets topped by straw-filled mattresses. Yasue opened a cupboard and said, “Leave your things here.”

Reiko stowed her bundle and cloak in one of many compartments that held clothes and other personal items belonging to the maids. She smelled the pungent reek of urine and feces from privies outside. The thought of sleeping in such crowded, squalid conditions made her physically ill.

Yasue led her through various buildings, named their functions, and laid out the household rules: “Maids should be as invisible and quiet as possible. Don’t go near Senior Elder Makino’s family, retainers, or guests unless you’re ordered to serve them. Don’t speak to them unless they speak to you.”

There went her hope of initiating conversations with the suspects and attempting to establish their guilt or innocence, Reiko thought. She and Yasue followed a path to a garden of rocks, white sand, and shrubs. In it stood a half-timbered building with wooden shutters and a broad veranda.

“Those are the private chambers,” Yasue said.

As Reiko gazed with interest at the scene of the murder, a woman glided across a covered walkway toward the building. Slim, elegant, and in her forties, she fit Sano’s description of Agemaki, widow of Senior Elder Makino. Then came a young, pretty girl accompanied by a strikingly handsome young man. Reiko surmised that they must be the concubine Okitsu and the actor Koheiji. She craned her neck, avid for a closer look at the murder suspects she’d come to observe. But they quickly disappeared into the private chambers.

“You’re not to go in there without permission,” Yasue said. “Come along now.”

Reiko had no choice but to let the woman hurry her away. They went to the kitchen, a vast den where hearths blazed and smoke and steam filled the air. Male cooks labored over boiling pots and sliced raw fish. They shouted orders to boys who stoked the fires and maids who flung dishes onto trays and ladled food into the dishes.

“There’s a banquet for the important people in Senior Elder Makino’s funeral procession,” Yasue said. “You can help out.”

She sat Reiko at a table where maids furiously chopped vegetables. She handed Reiko a knife, then left. Reiko was dismayed, for she’d not expected to do kitchen labor. A manservant hurled a bunch of huge white radishes at her. Never having learned much about cooking, she clumsily sliced a radish. The knife slipped and cut her finger; her blood stained the radish. The maids working beside Reiko ignored her. They were both older women, their faces hardened by toil.

“I heard that the master of this house was murdered,” Reiko said. “Did you see or hear anything?”

They frowned, skillfully wielding their knives. One woman said, “We’ve been ordered not to talk about that. Don’t mention it again-you’ll get somebody in trouble.”

More rules to thwart her aims! Reiko sighed in frustration. She wiped sweat off her face and grimly hacked the radishes. After what seemed like hours, Yasue reappeared.

“The ladies have ordered meals,” she told Reiko. “You can help serve them.”

Reiko was delighted to leave the kitchen with two other maids also assigned to the task. Carrying trays laden with covered dishes, they filed across the walkway to the private chambers. The guards let them inside. Excitement tingled through Reiko. Here she might discover the truth about Senior Elder Makino’s death.

“You go to Lady Agemaki,” one of the other maids told Reiko. “Her room is that way.”

They turned a corner, vanishing from sight. Reiko carried her tray along the corridor and came to an open door. Through it she saw the widow sitting alone. Reiko started to walk in, but suddenly a hand seized her arm in a fierce, startling grip.

“Kneel when you enter a room!” Yasue hissed in her ear.

She cuffed Reiko’s head, then withdrew. Reiko stood, her ears ringing from the blow, shaken because she’d forgotten the protocol for maids and she’d not known Yasue had followed her. The old woman moved as stealthily as a cat. Reiko knelt and hobbled across the threshold of the chamber. Agemaki stared into space, absorbed in her own musings. Thrilled to get close to the object of her interest, Reiko rose, crept toward Agemaki, and set the tray beside her.

Agemaki remained silent; she didn’t look at Reiko or the food. Reiko wondered if she should dare initiate an acquaintance. Was Yasue loitering about, watching to make sure she obeyed the rules? Reiko began removing the covers from the dishes on the tray while she awaited some cue from Agemaki.

“You can go now,” Agemaki said in a remote voice.

Reiko’s hands faltered.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Agemaki said. “Get out.”

Although Reiko hated losing a chance to spy, she meekly obeyed. She hesitated outside the door, reluctant to leave without accomplishing anything. From somewhere came the sound of samisen music, a man’s voice singing, and women giggling. Reiko crept down the corridor and peeked into a room where the actor Koheiji was entertaining the concubine Okitsu and the maids. Reiko told herself that no one would miss her if she took a moment to examine the scene of the murder. Maybe she would find something that Sano and his detectives had overlooked.

She hurried down the corridor to the room she identified as Senior Elder Makino’s. She eased open the door, slipped inside, then slid the door shut and appraised her surroundings. Cold and bare of furniture, they had the eerie atmosphere of a place in which death has recently occurred. A shiver passed over Reiko as she gazed at the platform where Makino’s body had lain. She opened the cabinets along the wall only to find empty compartments: Someone had cleared out the dead man’s possessions. Then she noticed a narrow, vertical gap between two sections of shelves.

Alerted by quickening instinct, Reiko inserted her finger into the gap. She found an indentation on the side of one section of shelves. She pressed, and the section pivoted, one half swinging outward, the other into a dim space beyond the room. She’d found a secret chamber! Eagerly she peered inside.

Human figures stared back at her. Reiko stifled a scream. But the figures didn’t move or make a sound. A second look showed her that their heads lolled at unnatural angles, and their limbs dangled inside their robes. They were life-sized dolls, suspended from hooks. Puzzled, Reiko ventured into the chamber, which smelled of sweat and stale breath. Now she counted ten dolls, all female. They had beautiful faces made of skillfully carved and painted wood; they all wore elaborate wigs and expensive patterned silk kimonos. Reiko noticed characters written on the wall above each figure. She read, “Takao of the Great Miura,” “Otowa of the Matsuba”… They represented courtesans from the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter.

Comprehension banished Reiko’s puzzlement. She’d heard stories about men who owned “shapes”-effigies of women with whom they’d enjoyed sexual relations. They relived their pleasures by making love to the shapes. A rolled futon in the corner, and a look under the robes of one doll, confirmed Reiko’s belief that Senior Elder Makino had practiced this strange habit. The doll’s body, fashioned from stuffed leather, had an opening at the crotch that was filled with boiled, mashed radish used to simulate the texture of female genitalia.