“I won’t forbid you,” he said. “Go ahead with your investigation if you insist. But be careful. Try not to attract attention or do anything that could hurt us.”

Reiko smiled. “I will. I promise to be discreet. Thank you.”

Sano saw that she was glad he’d given her his permission, if not his blessing; he could also tell she wasn’t surprised by his decision. Somehow she’d maneuvered him into a position where he couldn’t say no without compromising himself. He felt a grudging yet fond admiration for her cleverness. Reiko could certainly handle him better than he could her. But tonight had shown him that he needed someone to help him stay true to his ideals, and he was glad he could count on Reiko.

“How do you propose to begin your investigation?” he said.

“I thought that tomorrow I would examine the place where Yugao’s parents and sister were murdered, then talk to people who knew the family,” Reiko said. “Maybe I can turn up evidence that will prove whether she’s innocent or guilty.”

“That sounds like a good approach.” Sano hoped he wouldn’t come to regret his decision.

“What’s the next step in your investigation?” Reiko sparkled with vivacity, as she always did when looking forward to an adventure.

“I need to reconstruct the murder of Chief Ejima.” Sano mused. “Your investigation is ahead of mine in some respects. At least you have a primary suspect, and you know where the crime occurred. My first task is to find the actual crime scene where the death-touch was delivered to Ejima. Maybe then I can learn who did it.”

Sano rose the next morning before the sun ascended over the hills east of Edo and the night guards went off duty at the castle. Before he resumed investigating the murder, he ate a hasty meal in his office while his staff briefed him on news dispatches from the provinces. The anteroom was already crowded with officials, but today he couldn’t let his daily routine steal all his time; he couldn’t shuffle paper while a killer was at large and the balance of power depended on him. It was high time to close his open door.

He dismissed his staff and told his principal aide, “I’m going out.”

“People are waiting to see you, Honorable Chamberlain,” the aide politely reminded Sano. He was a clever, capable, honest man named Kozawa, of scholarly appearance and deferential manner. “And here is more correspondence for you to read and answer.” Kozawa indicated an open chest full of scrolls that had materialized beside Sano’s desk.

There was no time like the present to start anew. Sano took a deep breath, then said, “Sort out everything and everybody. Save the important matters for me. Handle the minor ones yourself.”

“Yes, Honorable Chamberlain,” Kozawa said, taking the order in stride.

“I want any case of sudden death among the bakufu officials reported to me, directly and at once,” Sano said. If there was another murder in a plot against Lord Matsudaira, he wanted to know as soon as possible. “The body is not to be touched. No one leaves or enters the scene of death before I arrive.”

“As you wish, Honorable Chamberlain. Where can I reach you if need be?”

“I’ll be at Chief Ejima’s estate for a while,” Sano said. “After that, I don’t know.”

As Sano left his office, Detectives Marume and Fukida and his other attendants fell into step with him. He fought the feeling that he’d just let go the reins and disaster lay ahead whether he solved the murder case or not.

Chief Ejima’s estate in the Hibiya administrative district was large and imposing, as suited his high rank. A two-story mansion enclosed by a high wall dwarfed other nearby houses; the gate had double portals and two tiers of roofs. When Sano arrived there with his entourage, he found that a strange vacuum surrounded the estate. Officials, clerks, and soldiers thronged the streets of the district, but the ones outside Ejima’s house were deserted, as if everybody was shunning the place in which the master lay recently dead, avoiding contamination by the evil spirits. Sano and his men stopped at the gate as servants hung mourning drapery over it. The black cloth flapped in the breeze; funereal incense smoke tainted the bright spring day.

Detective Marume addressed the two guards in the booth; “The honorable chamberlain wants to speak with your master’s family. Take us to them.”

One advantage Sano enjoyed as chamberlain was that his rank commanded instant respect and unquestioning obedience. The guards quickly summoned servants who escorted Sano, Marume, Fukida, and the rest of their party into the house. They removed their shoes and swords in the entryway, then walked down a corridor that smelled of incense smoke that drifted from the reception room. As Sano approached this, he heard voices inside. Through a lattice-and-paper partition he saw the glow of lanterns and the blurry shadows of two human figures.

“You have no claim to his estate,” said a man’s voice, raised in anger.

“Oh, yes, I do,” shrilled a defiant female voice. “I was his wife.”

“His wife.” The male voice dripped scorn. “You’re nothing but a whore who took advantage of a lonely man.”

A shriek of laughter came from the woman. “I’m not the only one who took advantage of my husband. You’re just a poor relation that he adopted as his son. He never would have if you hadn’t played up to him so that you could get your hands on his money.”

“Be that as it may, I am his legal son and heir. I control his fortune now.

“But he promised me a share of it,” the woman said, her anger now tinged with desperation.

“Too bad for you that he never wrote his promise into his will. I don’t have to give you a single copper. It’s all mine,” the man said triumphantly.

“You filthy bastard!”

The servant who’d escorted Sano into the house knocked on the door frame and called in a polite voice, “Excuse me, but you have visitors.”

The man cursed under his breath. His shadow moved close to the partition. He slid the door open, revealing himself as a thickset young samurai in his late twenties. He gaped at Sano.

“Honorable Chamberlain,” he said. “What-why-?”

Chief Ejima’s adopted son had thick eyebrows and a low, heavy forehead that gave him a primitive appearance despite the black silk ceremonial robes he wore. He was obviously upset to realize that Sano had overheard the quarrel.

“Forgive me for the intrusion,” Sano said, “but I must talk to you about your father’s death.”

The woman appeared beside the son. She was near his age-and perhaps two decades younger than her husband had been. Glossy black hair hung in a plait over her shoulder. She had pretty features sharpened by cunning. She wore a modest but expensive gray satin kimono.

“Of course. A thousand apologies for my poor manners,” said the son, bowing to Sano. “My name is Ejima Jozan.”

Lady Ejima also bowed. Her tilted black eyes sparked with wariness as they regarded Sano.

“Please come in.” Apparently mystified as to the reason for this visit from the shogun’s second-in-command, Jozan backed into the room to let Sano and his men enter.

The room’s shutters were closed against the sunshine. The sealed oblong wooden coffin lay on a dais. Smoking incense burners adorned a table that also held a vase of Chinese anise branches, offerings of food, and a sword to avert evil spirits. Jozan and Lady Ejima had been quarreling over Ejima’s estate while holding a vigil over his corpse, like scavengers fighting over carrion.

“My condolences on your loss,” Sano said.

Jozan thanked him. Lady Ejima said, “May I offer you some refreshments?”

Her manner was more forward than usual for a high-ranking woman. Sano recalled hearing that Ejima had married a courtesan from the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter. After Sano had politely declined her offer, he said, “Are there any family members in this house besides the two of you?”