“Makino’s wife Agemaki has been tried for the murder of his first wife,” Sano said, “but there was insufficient evidence to prove her guilt. She, too, has been sentenced to Yoshiwara.” She now lived in the same brothel as Okitsu, her rival. Sano had told its owner to keep a close watch on her, lest she inflict her murderous tendencies on her companions or clients.

“Have you also solved the murder of my nephew?” Lord Matsudaira said.

“I have,” Sano said. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s wife assassinated Daiemon, on orders from her husband.”

He could have mentioned that he’d finally accounted for Koheiji’s, Okitsu’s, and Tamura’s whereabouts on the night Daiemon had died. Koheiji had admitted leaving the rehearsal to dally with a lady love, and Okitsu had gone out looking for him at the Sign of Bedazzlement, among other places where he’d been known to conduct romances. Tamura had had a secret meeting with a retainer of Lord Matsudaira, during which he’d pledged to join Lord Matsudaira’s faction. But these details didn’t matter anymore.

Lord Matsudaira nodded, appearing satisfied with Sano’s report, especially since it cleared him of blame for the death of Senior Elder Makino and confirmed that Yanagisawa had been responsible for the murder of Daiemon. Yet Sano doubted that Lord Matsudaira had forgotten that Sano had offended him during the investigation. Sano thought surely his fate was already decided.

The shogun also nodded, like a puppet operated by Lord Matsudaira. “Well, I am glad that we, ahh, have dispensed with the matter,” he said as if the murders and the investigation had been a vexing but minor inconvenience to him. He seemed not to care anymore that his dear old friend and his onetime heir apparent were dead. “But one problem remains.”

He turned to Sano. “I have, ahh, lost my chamberlain.” The shogun sighed in fleeting regret that Yanagisawa was gone. Sano realized that Tokugawa Tsunayoshi didn’t understand exactly why; he still didn’t know about the war between the factions or the circumstances that had led to Yanagisawa’s exile. “I need a new chamberlain. After, ahh, much deliberation, I have, ahh decided that it will be you.”

Sano’s jaw dropped. At first he thought he’d not heard correctly. He had to repeat the shogun’s words in his mind before he could believe them. Shock rendered him speechless. Instead of losing his post, he’d gained a promotion to the highest office in the bakufu! The forces that had plunged Chamberlain Yanagisawa to his downfall had propelled Sano in the opposite direction. Now Sano saw the shogun, and the assembly, waiting expectantly for his reply.

“Your Excellency, this is a most unprecedented honor,” Sano said, breathless and dizzy from his sudden, inexplicable, and rapid ascent. “A thousand thanks.” He was aware that the post represented the pinnacle of a samurai’s career but was too stunned to think what the job entailed or how he felt about it. “May I ask… what made you choose to grant me the privilege of serving as your chamberlain?”

“You’ve never done me wrong as far as I know,” the shogun said. “And your, ahh, company is tolerable to me. Therefore, you are, ahh, as good a choice as any.”

This was faint praise and inadequate reason. Sano looked to Lord Matsudaira for an explanation.

“All of us have agreed that you are the right man for the post,” Lord Matsudaira said, indicating himself and the elders. He gave Sano a sardonic smile. The elders nodded in approval that seemed grudging yet resigned. Yoritomo gazed upon Sano with an expression that combined fear with hope. “Your conduct during the investigation was the deciding factor.”

Belatedly, Sano noticed the seating arrangement occupied by Lord Matsudaira, the elders, and Yoritomo. Elders Uemori and Ohgami, allies of Lord Matsudaira, sat nearest him. Elders Kato and Ihara, once beholden to Chamberlain Yanagisawa, sat nearest his son. Although the battle had ended, the war had not. The remnants of Yanagisawa’s faction had regrouped around Yoritomo, proxy for his absent father. They were using him-and his position close to the shogun-as a means to challenge Lord Matsudaira for control over Japan. Already they’d gained a foothold in the new order. And at last Sano understood why both sides had chosen him as chief administrator of the bakufu.

His skills, accomplishments, loyalty to the Tokugawa, and wisdom had nothing to do with the decision. During his investigation, he’d proved that he could work with both factions while letting neither control him.

His independent mind and his imperviousness to coercion had made him the only man whom both sides found acceptable. Neither side would choose someone connected with the other. He’d won the post of chamberlain by default.

“Congratulations, Honorable Chamberlain Sano,” said Lord Matsudaira. “I wish you the best of luck in managing the affairs of the nation.” He added in a warning tone: “May you use your authority wisely.”

Sano suddenly realized what a burden had landed on him. As chamberlain, he must oversee the government’s numerous departments, although he was woefully unfamiliar with their operations. He, who had only ever been responsible for the hundred men of his detectives corps, must now supervise countless feuding bureaucrats. He must keep the huge, unwieldy, and corrupt Tokugawa machine running. He must make important decisions for the shogun and keep him happy. And as if that weren’t enough, Sano must also navigate the narrow, dangerous zone between the two rival factions, trying to please both while offending neither.

This was Sano’s glorious reward for maintaining his impartiality during the murder investigation.

“Come, Chamberlain Sano.” The shogun beckoned. “Sit here.” He pointed to a place on the floor below the dais, between Yoritomo and Lord Matsudaira.

Sano rose. He knew he couldn’t refuse the position; he couldn’t go back to what he now realized had been a comfortable existence as the shogun’s sōsakan-sama. Duty and honor propelled him up the room. Sano took his seat at the helm of the bakufu.

Twilight descended upon Edo. Throughout the castle, lanterns and torches burned in watchtowers, atop the walls, along streets, and outside gates. The misty drizzle formed glowing haloes around the lights. Hoofbeats echoed through the passages as troops patrolled and officials headed homeward. Temple bells pealed across the city, where more lights flickered. But Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s compound was dark and silent as a tomb. The sentries were gone from the gate, the archers from the roofs, the guards from the towers. Rain dripped from the trees nto shadows that filled the labyrinth of vacant buildings.

Up the road toward the compound came a procession composed of a palanquin, eight mounted samurai bearing lanterns, and a few servants carrying trunks. The procession halted outside the gate. Sano leaped off his horse. Reiko climbed from the palanquin. They stood together and gazed up at the compound’s stone walls that rose before them.

“Welcome to our new home,” Sano said.

When Sano had told her that he was the new chamberlain, Reiko had almost fainted from shock. But now her mind began to accept the reality of Sano’s amazing promotion-and the changes it would bring to their lives.

“How generous the shogun was to give you Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s compound,” she said.

Yet she hated to leave the estate where she and Sano had lived the entire four years of their marriage, where she’d borne their son. The compound seemed inhospitable, forbidding, and tainted by the evil spirits of Yanagisawa and his wife. Reiko was reluctant to begin moving her household into the place.

“This is one gift I wish I could refuse,” Sano said, echoing Reiko’s thoughts.

“I can still hardly believe that an accidental murder could have such huge consequences,” Reiko mused.