Reiko felt a pang of sympathy for the nun who’d suffered so long and witnessed a terrible murder. “Please forgive me for upsetting you,” she said, taking Kozeri’s soft, smooth hands in hers. “I’ll tell my husband what you said. Attempted murder is a crime, but under the circumstances, surely he’ll pardon you.”

Tears of gratitude streamed from Kozeri’s eyes. “A thousand thanks,” she murmured, smiling gladly. “You’re so understanding and kind.”

Although Reiko had never been attracted to women, touching Kozeri gave her a sensuous pleasure. Her anger dissolved in hazy confusion. She couldn’t remember why she’d hated Kozeri just a moment ago. Sexual arousal burgeoned inside her. Then realization jolted Reiko alert.

“You’re doing to me what you did to my husband!” she cried, recoiling from Kozeri.

“What?” The nun gaped in surprise.

“You used mental energy to keep him from asking where you were during the murders. I didn’t believe him when he told me, but I do now, because you’re confusing me the same way!” Now Reiko regretted accusing Sano of lying to her.

Fear shimmered in Kozeri’s eyes, but she said bravely, “Yes, but I meant you no harm. I just wanted you to believe me. I needed to make you like me so you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“And you made him want you.” As enlightenment dawned, Reiko cursed herself for doubting Sano’s love for her.

Whatever had happened between Sano and Kozeri hadn’t been entirely his fault. If she could entice a woman, then what a strong effect her magic must have on men!

Reiko lashed out at Kozeri: “Liar! You didn’t try to poison the left minister. You didn’t just watch him die. You murdered him, and Aisu too!”

“I didn’t!” Hurt indignation welled in Kozeri’s eves. “I wouldn’t wish such an awful death on anyone.”

“Not even the man who murdered your first husband?”

The blood drained from Kozeri’s face, leaving her lips so white that Reiko could see red marks where she’d bitten them. “How-how did you know?”

“You were once married to Konoe’s secretary. Konoe stabbed him to death. Then he married you. Somehow you discovered what Konoe had done. You plotted revenge.”

Kozeri drew herself up; angry color blotched her checks. “All right. I knew. I hated the left minister for killing Ryōzen. I blamed him for the loss of the child I miscarried after the murder. But it all happened years ago. If I had wanted revenge against the left minister, I had plenty of opportunity when we lived together. Why would I wait so long?”

“Because you didn’t have the ability to murder him back then,” Reiko retorted. “Instead, you ran away. At Kodai Temple, the nuns taught you how to channel your mental energy through your voice. You acquired the power of kiai.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Kozeri laughed, a shrill, hysterical sound. “We do exercises that bring tranquility and enhance our prayers. We can influence people’s thoughts, but we don’t believe in violence.”

“I don’t believe you.” Determined to implicate Kozeri in another crime, Reiko said, “Have you ever been to Lord Ibe’s house in the cloth dyers’ district? Do you know the outlaws who’ve been living there? Where are they now? Where have they taken the weapons?”

While her mouth soundlessly formed the words outlaws and weapons, Kozeri looked at Reiko as if she’d gone mad. But Reiko conjectured that she’d befriended the outlaws during her travels through the city and joined their cause as a way to gain power against her former husband. What if she’d learned that Konoe had discovered the plot and decided to kill him before he could report it to the bakufu? She could have contacted Konoe, pretended she wanted a reconciliation, and arranged the secret meeting in the Pond Garden.

“Don’t pretend you don’t understand.” Fists clenched, Reiko shouted into Kozeri’s terrified face, “Where are the weapons? What are the outlaws planning?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Kozeri cried. Her eyes darted; she leaned away from Reiko, then blurted, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell your husband. Something that will help his investigation.” When Reiko only stared at her in speechless fury, she said, “As I was leaving the Pond Garden after the left minister died, I saw a man hiding in the shadows. It was Right Minister Ichijo.”

Did Kozeri think her gullible enough to fall for another trick? Reiko felt angry blood suffuse her face.

Obviously daunted by Reiko’s expression, Kozeri began to babble: “He didn’t see me, but I recognized him from when I lived in the palace.” Her eager smile didn’t erase the fear in her eyes. “Don’t you see what that means? There was somebody else in the garden besides me. Ichijo must have killed my former husband.”

Reiko’s emotions exploded. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies!” she shouted. “Ichijo wasn’t there. Only you.”

“I’m not lying,” Kozeri protested.

Reiko grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her; Kozeri’s head snapped back and forth. “You’re part of the rebel conspiracy. You killed Konoe. Admit it!”

“Stop. You’re hurting me.”

Limp and unresisting, Kozeri began to sob. Reiko understood how Konoe’s love for her had turned to murderous rage. So meek yet so contrary, she was weak despite her magic powers, pitiful but exasperating.

Was this what Sano wanted in a woman?

Reiko had an impulse to strike Kozeri until she confessed and begged for mercy. So much did she want Kozeri to be guilty and die for the crimes, she didn’t care whether Kozeri could kill her with a scream.

The drums ceased with a burst of applause: The Obon dance had ended. Reiko heard Sano calling, “Reiko-san! Where are you?” She froze, immobilized by contrary urges. She wanted to run to her husband, but she dreaded facing him after what had just happened. She couldn’t bear for Sano to find her and Kozeri like this, and she longed to flee, but not if that meant leaving him alone with Kozeri.

Then Kozeri said in a plaintive voice, “I can see why you think I’m guilty, but why do you hate me so much? Is it because you think your husband loves me?”

That her jealousy was so obvious humiliated Reiko. She turned and stumbled away, not wanting to hear more.

“I tried to get him to make love to me because I wanted him, not just to trick him,” Kozeri called after her. “But he wouldn’t. Now that I’ve met you, I understand why. He loves you. He wanted me, but he couldn’t betray you.”

Reiko halted in her tracks. How she longed to believe that! But many men did commit adultery; while she’d thought Sano was different from other husbands, perhaps her trust in him had been naïve. Besides, Kozeri had lied and deceived too often. Didn’t her claim that she and Sano hadn’t coupled indicate that in fact they had?

Then Reiko was running blindly. The speed of her flight chilled the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to think or do. Nor did she know whether to believe Kozeri’s story about seeing Ichijo at the scene of Konoe’s murder.