“I still have to find Tomoe’s children.” He got to his feet and bowed. “Thank you for taking care of things in my absence.”

She rose also and bowed back. “It was my duty. I’m sorry I did not perform it better.”

“Not at all. You do everything very well.”

But he knew that her efficiency as the mistress of his household mattered little when they no longer shared each other’s lives.

Seimei had food and tea waiting for him in his room, and Tora was waiting also.

“What happened to Mr. Chikamatsu?” Akitada asked.

Tora gave a snort. “He’s back home, supervising the building of a higher wall between him and his nosy neighbor. And he wants Kinjiro to come live with him when he gets better.”

Akitada nodded and, finding that he was very hungry after all, ate and drank while he filled them in on what had happened in Tsuzuki. When he was done, Tora said, “So she did it for her children. And you think Yasugi was behind all of it, don’t you? You think he’s going to kill Tomoe’s children too.”

Akitada hesitated. He hated Yasugi, wanted to believe the worst of him, but he really had no proof. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Perhaps.”

“Tomoe was afraid of him,” persisted Tora, “and Yasugi’s own wife thinks he had her son killed. I’m going to find those children.” He got to his feet.

Seimei murmured, “A hasty hand bungles.”

Akitada was nearly sober, but his head had started to ache. He should have been exhausted, but the same nervous energy that had pushed him since Yori’s death was still with him. He frowned at the tangle of problems and wished he had not drunk so much of Kobe’s wine. “We have no proof that Yasugi is killing Haseo’s sons to prevent future claims on the estate,” he said, “but there are other reasons for finding the children quickly. The trouble is, unless we know where to look, it could take weeks. Tomoe was too protective to mention their whereabouts to anyone. She trusted no one.” He rubbed his temples and thought about it. “We know that she paid for their keep and went to visit them regularly. The boy, who is the heir, was probably getting some sort of schooling. It isn’t much, but it’s suggestive. I think the children are staying with a peasant family just outside the city. It won’t be far because she walked there. If her son receives instruction, it may be near a temple or district school. She certainly did not earn enough money for a private tutor.”

Tora said eagerly, “I’ll scour the countryside around the capital.”

“A blind woman would stay on well-traveled roads in case she got lost. I think you must look south of the city,” Akitada said. “I wonder if her parents owned property there. She would choose a place she knew from her childhood.” He stood up abruptly. “Seimei, my good robe and hat. We’re going to see Kunyoshi again, and then I’ll report at the ministry.”

Kunyoshi was well and seemed to have grown even more efficient. The disease had spared the old and struck the young. When Akitada asked his question, he plunged eagerly into his dusty documents and reported that the Atsumis owned two farms. One was too far away, but the other lay just south of the capital and near a minor temple.

“That must be it,” said Akitada with a sigh of satisfaction.

Tora said, “I can be there in less than an hour. Are you sure she wouldn’t have gone farther away?”

“Remember, she was blind. Go home and saddle a horse. No, two. The boy is twelve and will have learned to ride. Get the children and put them in my wife’s care. She will know what to do.”

With Tora dispatched, Akitada walked to the ministry. To his amazement, all seemed business as usual. The anteroom held a modest number of petitioners, and Sakae bustled about with papers under his arm. When he saw Akitada, his complacent manner gave way to dismay. “Oh, you’re back,” he cried.

Akitada raised his brows at this rudeness. “I trust you and Nakatoshi have managed in my absence?”

Sakae averted his eyes. “Yes . . . er . . . perhaps you should report to His Excellency. The, er, provisional minister.” He nodded toward Soga’s office.

“The provisional . . . someone has been appointed already?” Such efficiency during a state of emergency was nothing short of stunning. Akitada was still staring at Sakae, his mind in turmoil, when the door opened and the cheerful face of a short and chubby individual peered out.

“Hah! Thought I recognized your voice, Akitada,” he cried warmly. “Come in, come in.”

Akitada barely managed to hide his astonishment. In a reasonably steady voice he said, “Kosehira. What a very pleasant surprise!”

Fujiwara Kosehira embraced him, then pulled him into the office and closed the door on Sakae’s avid interest. He immediately became serious. “My poor fellow! I heard the news about your little son. I am so sorry for you. You look terrible and shouldn’t have hurried back to work so soon.”

“Thank you, but work is a distraction.” Akitada did not want to dwell on the black abyss of his grief. “Is all well with you and yours?”

Kosehira nodded. “I sent them away after all. Now I’m the only one staying in my big house, except for one servant. It’s an eerie feeling, being all alone. I keep hearing ghosts. Perhaps you will come to keep me company some evening?”

Akitada looked at his friend gratefully. “Of course. I shall need your cheerful and practical advice. But is it true? You’re taking Soga’s position?”

Kosehira flushed. “A temporary appointment. I rely on you totally. Know nothing of this stuff. You were gone and I was available, and well, it’s always a matter of rank, isn’t it? I know very well that you should be running the ministry. I hope you don’t mind.”

He looked so nervous that Akitada smiled. The smile felt strange after so many days of sadness. “Nonsense,” he said, “I could not be more pleased. Frankly, Soga hated me. I fully expected to be dismissed with a bad report.” He glanced around the office. “But where is Nakatoshi?”

Kosehira’s face had lit up at Akitada’s first words. Now it fell. “Under arrest.”

“In jail? Why? What happened?”

“I found a treasonable letter written by him. Yesterday. I walked into the office and saw him slipping some paper away before leaving the room. He looked so guilty that I decided to take a look. And there it was, right on top of one of the document boxes. I was deeply shocked, my dear Akitada. The letter was addressed to Ito Mitsutaka, that notorious renegade in Mutsu Province. Nakatoshi suggested to Ito that this would be a very good time for an uprising, the capital and surrounding countryside being decimated by smallpox, and the government no longer functional with so many officials dead. Dreadful. I had him placed under arrest immediately.”

Akitada stared at his friend. “I don’t believe it,” he said flatly. “Are you sure that poisonous snake Sakae wasn’t behind this?”

Kosehira frowned. “Sakae? Why should he do such a shocking thing?”

Akitada sighed. “Because he’s Sakae and he hates Nakatoshi. Who has the letter now?”

“I do. The court is not in session, so I kept all the evidence.”

“What evidence? The letter is all you have, isn’t it?”

“Just about. Except for Sakae’s signed statement that he heard Nakatoshi make critical remarks about the government.”

Akitada gave a snort. “Of course. Let me see the letter, please.”

Kosehira got a locked box, fished a key from his sash and opened it. “You don’t think Nakatoshi wrote this?” he asked uneasily, extending a folded piece of the kind of paper used for government documents. “I tell you, I saw him hide it with my own eyes. He got very red in the face when he saw me looking at him.”

Akitada scanned the fairly long document and studied the signature at the end. “I don’t doubt that you saw him hide something,” he said. “But this is not in Nakatoshi’s handwriting.”