“… took you long enough to get here,” Ichijo was saying. “You were supposed to be waiting for me.”

“We came as soon as we could,” said Gruff Voice.

“With the trouble we’ve had, you should be glad we made it at all,” whined the other man.

“I hired you to handle trouble,” Ichijo said coldly. “I hired you to obey my orders, and I expect to get the service you promised.”

“Well, we expect to be treated better than slaves.” Belligerence harshened Gruff Voice’s tone. “After all, we’re risking our lives to do your dirty work.”

“You knew the duties the job entailed. You knew the danger,” Ichijo retorted. “If you’re too lazy and cowardly to go on, then I’ve no use for you. I can’t afford to leave such important matters in the hands of unreliable men. Unless you fulfill your part of the bargain, you won’t reap the rewards.”

Yanagisawa’s heart began to race. The two samurai were rōnin, possibly the ones from Lord Ibe’s house. If “trouble” meant the hasty relocation of troops and weapons, then “important matters” referred to the imperial restoration, and “rewards” to the spoils of war.

“All right, all right; we’re sorry we were late,” the Whiner said quickly.

Gruff Voice said, “This place makes me nervous. Let’s hurry up so we can get out of here.”

There was a brief silence. Then Ichijo said, “How are they?”

“Safe and well,” said Gruff Voice.

Ichijo’s allies, Yanagisawa thought; secure in their positions, waiting for the command to march.

“Has my merchandise arrived?”

“Yes. The last of it came twelve days ago.”

The guns and ammunition, manufactured illegally and smuggled into Miyako a little at a time?

“Well, then.” An odd sadness tinged Ichijo’s tone. “I suppose you’d best be on your way.”

There was a clink of gold coins.

“Is this all?” Gruff Voice said with disapproval.

Ichijo said, “You’ll get more later.”

When the emperor rules Japan and the Imperial Court commandeers the nation’s wealth? A thrill shot through Yanagisawa. He was sure he’d just witnessed Ichijo advancing payment for mounting a war against the Tokugawa. With great relish Yanagisawa looked forward to arresting Ichijo. He could hardly wait to see the look on Sano’s face when he…

A familiar sensation, like invisible hands on his skin, disturbed Yanagisawa: Someone was watching him. Instinctively he crouched, scanning the alleys and rooftops. In the darkness, he couldn’t see anyone, but the menacing hidden presence revived the terror of the attack in the Imperial Palace. Was the killer stalking him again?

But that was impossible, with the killer sitting just around the curve of the Ear Mound. Yanagisawa heard Ichijo and the samurai talking, although his panic reduced their words to gibberish. Could there be more than one killer? Was it Hoshina? Yanagisawa wanted to learn more about the conspirators’ plans, but he had to get away, fast.

Then he heard Ichijo say, “Farewell. We shall meet again soon. Until then, I place my faith in you.”

Footsteps tapped across the bridge. The horses’ bridles clanked as the samurai untied them. Yanagisawa guessed that Ichijo’s parting words to the mercenaries meant that he planned to launch the revolt in the near future. He was entrusting them to deploy the troops and weapons, while he carried on his normal existence until the battle. Yanagisawa’s samurai instinct, for so long buried beneath personal ambitions and torments, now challenged his fear for his own safety. A forgotten sense of duty spurred his determination to catch the traitors. Peering around the Ear Mound, he saw the two samurai ride off down an alley. He sprang up to follow.

But old habit persisted. Yanagisawa thought of the hidden watcher. Only a fool tracks outlaws to their den alone! warned his inner voice.

Hesitation cost him his chance. By the time he raced after the two samurai, there was no sign of them. He could hear their horses’ hoofbeats receding into the distance, but although he spent hours looking for the outlaws, they’d vanished into the night.

32

I’m going out now,” Sano said to Reiko the next morning. When they’d returned to Nijō Manor last night, he’d found a message from Detective Fukida, alerting him to a matter that required action today. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes.” Seated by the window of their room in Nijō Manor, Reiko was immaculately dressed and groomed, her face pale and drawn but composed. She did not look at Sano.

“Are you sure?”

Last night he’d caught her as she ran from Gion Shrine, wild-eyed and breathless. He hurried her back to Nijō Manor, where she’d calmed down enough to tell him that Kozeri had admitted being in the Pond Garden during Left Minister Konoe’s murder, but claimed that she’d seen Right Minister Ichijo afterward. Sano didn’t know whether to believe it, but he guessed that more had transpired than Reiko would say. In bed, she’d lain rigid and silent beside him, and this morning he’d awakened to find her brooding by the window. He desperately wanted to know what had happened between her and Kozeri, yet he was afraid to ask.

Now Reiko said, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“What will you do today?”

“I thought I’d finish examining the papers from Left Minister Konoe’s office. Maybe there are clues somewhere.”

Sano welcomed her interest in the case as a sign that they still had common ground. Always eager for the truth, he longed to break through her reticence. “Reiko-san,” he began.

“Yes?”

He heard apprehension in her voice; she still wouldn’t look at him. Forcing her to talk now would only make things worse. He said, “Marume has been questioning the associates of Yoriki Hoshina to find out where he might have gone, with no luck. Hoshina seems to have vanished completely. But Fukida had interesting news. He thinks Chamberlain Yanagisawa is on to something important that he doesn’t want us to know about.”

Rising, Reiko moved to the boxes of papers, knelt, and bent her head over them. “I hope you find out what it is.”

“Thank you.” Sano paused, then said, “Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.”

Things couldn’t continue like this, Sano thought as he left the inn. Something had to break, and he hoped that when the air cleared, they would find happiness again.

Sano, Marume, and Fukida strode into the private quarters of Nijō Castle, where Chamberlain Yanagisawa was finishing his morning meal. Outside the open rain doors, the shady garden looked deceptively cool, but the glaring, hazy sky visible above the rooftops heralded another sultry day. And Sano’s temper was as hot as the weather.

Without preliminary greetings, he said to Yanagisawa, “When were you going to tell me about Right Minister Ichijo?” He paused, then added accusingly, “Or weren’t you?”

“Whatever are you talking about?” The picture of innocence, Yanagisawa wiped his lips on a napkin. The bruises on his face had darkened to a lurid bluish purple, but the swelling had gone down. “I’ve already told you all I know.”

“Don’t bother with denials,” Sano said, furious. He heard Yanagisawa’s bodyguards stir behind the sliding walls. “You followed Ichijo to the Ear Mound and listened to his conversation with two samurai he met there.”

Lifting his tea bowl, the chamberlain’s hand gave an involuntary jerk.

“I followed you,” said Fukida.

Yanagisawa surged to his feet and glared at Sano. “Of all the low, silly tricks. With a killer on the loose and an insurrection brewing, you squander effort by sending a flunky to spy on me, as if I were the criminal! We’re working together, remember?”

“I haven’t forgotten, but obviously you have.” Sano faced down Yanagisawa. “Don’t try to confuse the issue. Putting surveillance on you turned out to be a good idea, didn’t it? You wouldn’t spy on Ichijo unless it was important to the case. I want to know why you followed him and what you learned.”