“Oh. I see.” Although Kozeri kept smiling, disappointment and caution extinguished the light in her face. She inclined her head. “All right.”

“Is there someplace we can talk?” Sano asked, surveying the busy temple grounds.

Without meeting his gaze, Kozeri nodded. She said to her companions, “Please excuse me.”

“Perhaps we should stay with you,” said the older of the two nuns, eyeing Sano shrewdly.

Perhaps you should, thought Sano as his heart jumped at the chance to be alone with Kozeri. But when she told the nuns, “It’s all right, I’ll be back soon,” he let them go. He and Kozeri left the temple and strolled down an avenue bordered by the villas of imperial nobles who could afford second homes outside the palace. Past them moved palanquins carrying courtiers and ladies. Trees swayed, dappling the street with shadows. Kozeri walked with arms clasped around her begging bowl and her head bowed beneath her hat.

“I need to know about the last time you saw Left Minister Konoe,” Sano said. "What did he say?”

“Nothing… That is, nothing except the same kind of things he said in his letters.” Kozeri’s voice was low but steady; perhaps she, too, felt more at ease with an impersonal subject between them. “I haven’t had a real conversation with my former husband in years.”

Sano sympathized with her unwillingness to discuss a painful subject, but instinct told him that the encounter was important to the case. “Let’s go over everything that happened,” he said. “Start with the left minister’s arrival at Kodai Temple.”

The brim of her hat bobbed as Kozeri reluctantly nodded. She kept her eyes on the ground as they walked, perhaps embarrassed by the curiosity of passersby who stared at the rare sight of a nun and a samurai walking together. In spite of himself, Sano wished she would look at him.

“It was early morning,” Kozeri said. “Another nun and I were sweeping the veranda when he came. He said, ‘Kozeri, you’re as beautiful as you were when we married fifteen years ago. You never seem to age.’ I dropped my broom and backed away, but he came up the steps toward me. He was smiling. I told the other nun to go get help.

“He said, ‘I’m so glad to see you. Can’t you at least act glad to see me?’ ” The memory of fear echoed in Kozeri’s voice. “Then he started getting angry. He said he knew my heart better than I did, and I should realize that I loved him. He began talking about… things he wanted to do to me.” Kozeri lifted a pleading gaze to Sano; her ivory complexion turned pink with shame. “Must I repeat them?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Sano said hastily. “What happened next?”

Kozeri sighed. “This is very difficult…”

“I understand,” Sano said. “Take your time.”

Too late he noticed that they’d left the busy streets and were nearing the river. Willows lined the bank. Their arching boughs formed caves of shadow. Between the gnarled tree trunks, sunlight glinted on the water, but the foliage hid the far bank. The slope of the ground blocked Sano’s view of the houses behind him; the ripple of the water drowned out traffic sounds. It seemed as though the city and everyone else in the world had vanished. Sano was about to suggest that they return to Sanjūsangendō when Kozeri descended the riverbank and set down her begging bowl.

“The left minister trapped me against the wall. He grabbed my shoulders.” She stood with her back pressed to a willow, hands clenched at her sides, pantomiming her story. “Then some priests came and took him away.” A sigh of relief cased from her; she ran her hands down her breasts and hips, as if to assure herself that Konoe hadn’t hurt her.

Watching, Sano felt a shameful burgeoning of desire, and an unwelcome understanding of the left minister’s obsession with Kozeri. She seemed so innocent, yet overwhelmingly seductive. Sano tasted danger and excitement. His heart was racing, his breathing quick. He smelled decaying vegetation and the river’s marshy scent; mossy ground yielded beneath his feet as he went to stand by Kozeri. He felt the vague, uneasy confusion that he’d experienced during his first interview with her. What was he forgetting to ask?

Kozeri turned toward him. A nervous smile hovered upon her lips. Sano wondered whether she’d brought him here deliberately. Were her feelings as mixed as his own? Her eyes shone fever-bright, and under the loose robe, her breasts rose and fell with rapid breaths. She looked scared; she also looked like a woman erotically aroused. Sano felt his own body respond.

To hide his distress, he said, “What else happened?”

“That was all.” Then a thoughtful look came into Kozeri’s eyes. “Wait…I’d forgotten. When the left minister was forced to leave the temple, he shouted at me. I don’t remember his exact words, but they went like this: ‘Soon you’ll realize that you made a terrible mistake by leaving me. I’m on the verge of the greatest accomplishment of my life. Soon every man shall do my bidding, every woman desire my favor. You shall be so impressed that you’ll return to me at last!’

“What do you think he meant?” Sano asked, intrigued.

“He always wanted to be imperial prime minister,” Kozeri said. “I assumed that he was finally going to get the post.”

A promotion would have given him greater prestige at court, but Sano believed Konoe had learned the murderer’s secret and planned to apply it toward a different sort of ‘accomplishment’ that would win him power, wealth, and Kozeri’s esteem. Yet once again, the sense of a gap in the case bothered Sano, although Chamberlain Yanagisawa had supplied much of the missing information.

Kozeri stood watching him. Her hand wandered up to pat her lips, then clasp her throat. Her sensual habit of caressing herself provoked in Sano an almost irresistible urge to touch her. “The other nuns will be wondering what happened to me,” she said.

Sano noticed that the afternoon sun had descended in the sky, sheening the river with bronze. The shadows under the willows had deepened. Above the water’s incessant rush hummed a prenocturnal chorus of insects. Sano had the evidence he’d come for; he should go back to the Imperial Palace and finish his inquiries, or find out what had come of Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s raid on Lord Ibe’s estate.

“Yes,” he said, “we should go.”

Yet neither he nor Kozeri moved. Her eyes filled with panicky anticipation. Go on and have her, whispered a demon inside Sano. Other men do this all the time; there’s no need to feel guilty. Reiko doesn’t have to know. Sano walked slowly toward Kozeri. She gave a frightened whimper, but made no effort to stop him. Now he stood close enough to hear her breathing in sharp hisses and see the saliva gleam on her quivering lips. His hands lifted. This was wrong. He loved Reiko, whom he’d already hurt badly by faking his death. He ached with his need for Kozeri.

Hands poised above her shoulders and their faces almost touching, Sano saw his inner turmoil reflected in her eyes. As a nun, she would have taken a vow of celibacy, but she was a sensual woman who’d lived fifteen years without a man. Sano could see her trembling with repressed hunger. Forcing himself to think of Reiko, he only realized a disturbing truth about his nature. A part of him was drawn to women with an aura of tragedy, whose spirits carried the same veins of darkness as his own.

Women like Aoi, the ninja spy he’d fallen in love with during his first case as the shogun’s investigator.

And Sano knew that Reiko, with her bright personality, could never quite satisfy the dark part of him, no matter how much they loved each other.

Suddenly Kozeri moaned, a sound of utter, passionate submission. Tilting her head, she laid her cheek on Sano’s hand, eyes closed and lips parted. The feel of her hot, moist skin thrilled Sano. With his other hand he stroked the nape of her neck, that most erotic visible part of a woman’s body. Lefting his fingers trail slowly down Kozeri’s back, he drew her closer to him.