Hoshina tore loose from Marume’s grasp. As he scrambled across the floor, Sano jumped on him. Marume grabbed his ankles. Hoshina had formidable strength, muscles like flexible steel, and fast reflexes. He fought savagely, bludgeoning Sano and Marume with his fists, knees, elbows, and head, but he didn’t try to use the swords at his waist: Only escape would save him; killing two bakufu officials would get him in deeper trouble. Sano caught a stunning blow to the jaw, and Marume a kick in the stomach, but they both held on to Hoshina. They stifled cries of pain and exertion, because noise might bring people who would see Sano. Hoshina didn’t call for help, probably because he didn’t want to explain why he was fighting with his two superiors. The only sounds in the room were harsh gasps, the thump of blows to flesh and bone, scabbards clattering, and the crash of bodies against floor and walls.
Then Marume and Sano pinned Hoshina facedown under them. He heaved and bucked, but when Sano twisted his arm sharply, he went stiff. Marume stripped off his own sash and cut it in half with his sword. He and Sano used the lengths of fabric to bind Hoshina’s ankles together and wrists behind him, then knotted the loose ends of the restraints so that Hoshina’s knees doubled backward. The yoriki writhed on the floor, muscles straining to break his bonds. Sweat gleamed on his face; blood trickled from his nose. With his hair in wild disarray and his teeth bared, he looked more animal than human.
Sano stood, mopping his own perspiring face on his sleeve. Sore spots on his chest and limbs marked the places where bruises would soon appear. Marume leaned against the wall, his left eye red and swelling.
“You have two choices,” Sano told the yoriki. “One: You can stick to your lies. I don’t recommend this, because if you do it, I’ll destroy you.”
Hoshina struggled harder and spat curses at Sano.
“Two: You can cooperate with me, and I’ll let you off,” Sano continued. “All you have to do is tell me everything you know that relates to the murder of Left Minister Konoe, what Yanagisawa is planning, and where he is. I’ll place you under protection so he can’t punish you for betraying him.”
Hoshina gave Sano a look of contempt. “That’s not two choices, but one: certain death!” A strangled laugh burst from him.
Sano knew that a promise of protection against the most powerful man in Japan was of questionable value, and that he might be exacting cooperation at the cost of Hoshina’s life, but he couldn’t relent. “Choose now,” he ordered.
The yoriki heaved sideways, gasping and grunting, in a futile effort to escape. His head tossed; the tendons of his neck bulged. Then, with a shuddering moan, he went limp. He closed his eyes and nodded in defeat, just as Sano had anticipated he would. Hoshina was no noble samurai who would sacrifice himself out of loyalty to Yanagisawa.
“Thank you.” Sano exchanged a satisfied glance with Marume. “Now, what information did you withhold from me? What lies did you tell?”
His expression sullen, Hoshina spoke in a quiet monotone, confirming notions Sano had already entertained.
“Tell me about Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s plot against me.”
Hoshina revealed disturbing details of the plot, but Sano sensed major gaps in his knowledge. “Where is Yanagisawa?” Sano asked.
“I don’t know where he is right now; he didn’t tell me all his plans for tonight. But I’m supposed to meet him at a villa in the hills in the morning.” At Sano’s request, Hoshina gave directions.
Sano stood, beckoned Marume to follow him to the back door, and said quietly, “Lock Hoshina up and guard him so he can’t run to Yanagisawa or spread the news that I’m not dead. You can send Lady Asagao home and put Hoshina in the special cell here in police headquarters. Order his colleagues not to tell anyone he’s there.” Sano added, “Tell Fukida-san to look after Reiko.”
The thought of his wife awakened guilt and longing in Sano. She must have heard the news of his murder by now. He wished he could go to her so that she wouldn’t have to suffer needlessly, but the most critical part of his task still lay ahead of him. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“You’re going after Yanagisawa alone?” Marume said, frowning in concern.
“I’ll have to risk it,” Sano said. “Gathering our troops will take too much time and increase the chances that the Miyako spies will see me and report my resurrection to Yanagisawa.”
Sano and Marume bowed to each other, their glances conveying wishes for mutual good luck. Then Sano opened the door and stole away into the night.
After an empty, timeless interval, Reiko stirred awake. The windows framed pale squares of dawn light; her maids lay asleep on a futon beside hers. At first she didn’t know where she was. Heavy lassitude filled her body; her head throbbed; her eyes burned. She had a vague sense that something awful had happened. Then she remembered. She was in Miyako and Sano was dead. Reiko closed her eyes; more tears leaked through the swollen lids. She wanted to go back to sleep. She wanted to die.
Yet something deep within Reiko would not let her give up so easily.
Her husband had been murdered. This was an intolerable outrage. Now fury cut through Reiko’s pain like a blade lancing a wound. She must avenge Sano’s death. Until she did, she would neither rest nor succumb to grief. She hoped more than ever that she was pregnant, because then a part of Sano would survive him. And she could not let their child grow up knowing that its father’s murderer had gone free.
Determination gave Reiko strength, and she sat up. Vertigo spun the room around her. Breathing deeply, she waited for the after-effects of the sleeping potion to pass. She began planning what to do. Before she could avenge Sano’s death, she had to solve the murder case in order to learn who had killed him. But serious obstacles loomed ahead of her.
She had no authority to investigate crimes; hence, the Imperial Palace was off-limits to her. She couldn’t expect help from Marume and Fukida because they were under no obligation to obey her orders. They’d accepted her participation in Sano’s work out of duty to him, but they didn’t really approve of her. In fact, they might decide to take the responsibility of solving the case and avenging Sano’s death upon themselves and send her home.
Then a plan sprang into Reiko’s mind. It involved great potential danger and depended on the cooperation of someone with little reason to cooperate, but there seemed no other way.
Reiko rose on shaky legs. One of the maids awakened, saw her, and said, “Mistress, what are you doing?”
“I’m going out,” Reiko said.
“But you need rest. You must come back to bed. Please-”
Reiko silenced the maid with a glance that threatened unspeakable punishment to anyone who tried to stop her. “I’m going out,” she repeated. “Help me wash and dress.”