In the Hibiya administrative district, located south of Edo Castle, Reiko and Haru disembarked from the palanquin into thin, cold rain. An attendant held an umbrella over them while they hurried to the roofed gate of one of the walled estates that lined the street. Reiko exchanged friendly greetings with the sentries, but Haru eyed them fearfully and hung back.

“Don’t be afraid.” Reiko put a reassuring arm around the girl. “You’re among friends here.”

Accompanied by the attendant with the umbrella, she propelled Haru through the wet courtyard. There a crowd of police and shackled prisoners huddled under the eaves of the guardhouse. Haru shrank against Reiko. They entered the low, half-timbered mansion. A maid greeted them in the entryway and helped them remove their cloaks and shoes.

“Where is my father?” Reiko asked the maid.

“In his private office, Honorable Lady.”

Reiko led Haru down the angled corridor, past chambers where clerks worked at writing desks. She knocked on a door.

A deep, masculine voice called, “Enter!”

Sliding open the door, Reiko stepped inside a chamber lined with shelves and cabinets full of books, ledgers, and scrolls, pulling Haru after her. They knelt and bowed to the man seated behind a desk on a low platform.

“Good afternoon, Honorable Father,” Reiko said. “Please excuse me for interrupting your work, but I’ve brought you a visitor. We have urgent business to discuss with you.”

Magistrate Ueda, one of two officials responsible for settling disputes among citizens, conducting trials of criminals, overseeing the police force, and maintaining order in Edo, laid down his writing brush. He was a stout, middle-aged samurai with heavy-lidded eyes and a ruddy complexion, dressed in formal black silk kimono.

“What a pleasant surprise to see you, Daughter,” he said, regarding Reiko with affection. “I’m eager to make your friend’s acquaintance.”

Reiko introduced Haru. The girl kept her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She whispered,”It’s a privilege to meet you, Honorable Magistrate.”

When Reiko explained who Haru was, a slight frown marred Magistrate Ueda’s genial expression. Undaunted, Reiko said, “Haru needs a safe place to stay, so I brought her here. I hope you’ll agree to take her in.”

For a moment Magistrate Ueda contemplated Reiko in thoughtful silence. Then he turned to Haru. “Certainly you must accept my hospitality while you rest after your journey.” His voice, while gentle, lacked warmth. “May I offer you refreshment?”

“Thank you, Honorable Magistrate, but I’ve already eaten.” Haru mumbled the polite, conventional reply.

“But I insist.” The magistrate summoned a maid, to whom he said, “Take my guest into the parlor and serve her some tea.”

Haru shot a terrified glance at Reiko.

“Go on,” Reiko said with an encouraging smile.

After Haru and the maid had left, Magistrate Ueda folded his hands atop a stack of papers on his desk. His grave expression heralded a scolding, and Reiko felt a stab of anxiety. He said, “Why did you bring Haru here?”

“She can’t stay at Zōjō Temple any longer,” Reiko said, describing Kumashiro’s attack on Haru. “She’s alone in the world, with nowhere to go and no friends except me. And I can’t bring a guest into Edo Castle without official permission, which would take forever to get. This is the only place I could put her.”

“You should have at least consulted me in advance instead of putting me on the spot,” said the magistrate.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Reiko said contritely, “but there wasn’t time.”

“So you want me to take into my house the prime suspect in a case of arson and triple murder, hmm?” Ueda said. When Reiko nodded, disapproval drew his thick eyebrows together. “How can you ask such an outrageous favor? What can you be thinking, Daughter?”

“Haru hasn’t been proven guilty and may very well be innocent,” Reiko said, disconcerted by her father’s reaction. Although she hadn’t expected him to rejoice at the prospect of sheltering Haru, she hadn’t foreseen opposition because he rarely refused her anything. “And I know she’s in danger.”

Magistrate Ueda shook his head. “If she did commit those crimes, then she’s a danger to other people. I can’t risk the safety of my household by bringing her under my roof. And what makes you think she’s innocent?”

Reiko described her theory that Haru had been an intended victim of the fire and was now being framed as a scapegoat. She related her suspicions about the Black Lotus sect’s practices. “I believe that the sect may be behind the murders and arson.” Reiko added, “Does Haru look capable of smashing a man’s head and strangling a woman and child?”

“We’ve both seen many criminals who look as harmless as Haru,” Magistrate Ueda said, alluding to the numerous trials he’d conducted while Reiko watched through a screen in a room next to the Court of Justice. “You know better than to judge a person by appearance. And you offer proof of neither your theory about Haru’s role in the crimes nor your accusations against the Black Lotus.”

“At the moment, the sect seems as likely to be guilty as Haru does, and my intuition tells me I’m right,” Reiko said. “I can remember times when it guided you.” She’d often told him when defendants were guilty and to push for a confession, and when they were innocent and he should look elsewhere for the culprit. She’d whispered her advice through the screen, and her father had followed it with good results. “Do you doubt me now?”

Magistrate Ueda fixed a stern gaze on Reiko. “Intuition without reason can lead to serious mistakes. I taught you that. Please do not forget that it’s dangerous to focus solely on the side of a story that pleases you. I presume there is evidence against Haru, because otherwise, the sōsakan-sama would have already exonerated her. Now, let’s hear it.”

Reluctantly, Reiko disclosed Haru’s troubled past, her relationship with Commander Oyama, and the lies Haru had admitted telling.

“That’s more than enough reason for me to eject Haru from my house immediately and send her to Edo Jail.” Anger kindled in the magistrate’s eyes. “Even if you’ve no concern for the welfare of my household, you should at least respect my position. My authority as magistrate would be much diminished if it became known that I harbored a murder suspect.”

Unable to think of a good reply to his legitimate concern, Reiko felt her cause losing ground. Already at odds with Sano, she hated the thought of a rift between herself and the other most important man in her life. Yet Reiko couldn’t let him turn Haru out.

“If I were in Haru’s position, would you want people to decide I was guilty before the investigation was finished?” Reiko said. “Would you want me sent to jail?”

Magistrate Ueda gave her an affronted look. “That’s hardly a plausible scenario, and I recognize your attempt to coax me by playing upon my paternal feelings.”

However, Reiko sensed him relenting behind his severe façade. She said, “All I ask is that you treat Haru fairly. You needn’t take my word for her innocence. Question her yourself. Get to know her; decide whether you think she’s guilty. Please, do it for my sake.”

“Does your husband know about your plan to protect Haru?”

“No,” Reiko admitted, “but he expects me to help Haru regain her memory, and it’ll be easier for me to work with her if she’s here, close to Edo Castle. He wouldn’t want her to get hurt or killed, because then he might never learn the truth about the crimes. And I don’t want the sect to misdirect him. Should he condemn the wrong person, his honor and reputation will suffer.”