“I said, ‘How did you get here? What do you think you’re doing?’ Wisteria said, ‘I’ve been freed. And I’m paying you back for what you did to me.’ Then she urinated on my ruined clothes. I shouted, ‘Get out of here!’ She laughed and said, ‘May you be reborn into the life of degradation that I suffered.’ And she swept out of the house. That was the last I’ve seen of her. And good riddance!” Madam Yue snorted; fury glinted in her eyes.

Though Wisteria’s violence and crudity disgusted Reiko, she could sympathize with the courtesan’s need for revenge. And the story offered a possible clue.

“Who was it that freed Wisteria?” Reiko asked.

“She didn’t say. Later I heard he was a wealthy, high-ranking official.”

One aspect of the story perplexed Reiko. She said, “If this man freed Wisteria, why did she return to Yoshiwara?”

“I don’t know.” An unpleasant smile twisted Madam Yue’s lips. “But I’m glad she did.”

Reiko decided she must find out the identity of the man. Perhaps he and Wisteria had kept in contact, and he knew where she was. “Did Wisteria have any close friends I might talk to?” Reiko meant to continue probing Wisteria’s past, which seemed a rich source of enlightenment.

“There was a girl named Yuya. She lived down the street when she and Wisteria were young. I heard she went bad, too, but I don’t know what became of her.”

“If you should see Wisteria, or hear from her, will you please send a message to my husband’s estate at Edo Castle to let me know?” Reiko said.

“Oh, I certainly will,” Madam Yue replied, with a nasty chuckle that conveyed how much she would like to turn her daughter in to the shogun’s sōsakan-sama. “Does your husband think Wisteria killed Lord Mitsuyoshi?”

“He’s investigating the possibility,” Reiko admitted.

“Well, you can tell him that she’s mean and spiteful and cunning enough to be the murderer,” Madam Yue said. “And when he catches her, I’ll be plenty glad to say so at her trial.”

The guards at the Court of Justice opened the broad, carved door for Sano. He and four of his detectives entered the cavernous room, which was filled with men kneeling in rows all the way up to the shirasu, an area of floor covered with white sand, symbol of truth. There knelt Treasury Minister Nitta. Head bowed, his wrists shackled, he faced the low dais at the front of the room. On the dais, flanked by two secretaries stationed behind desks equipped with paper and writing implements, sat Magistrate Aoki.

Sano and his men knelt at the back of the audience. The magistrate addressed Nitta in a cracked but resonant voice: “We have just heard evidence that you stole from the treasury.” His face reminded Sano of a bitter-melon-tapering and deeply wrinkled, his eyes like black stones embedded in furrows. He wore black ceremonial robes adorned with gold crests. His bald scalp reflected light from the lanterns above the dais. “You may now speak for yourself if you wish.”

“I confess that I took the money, betrayed my lord’s trust, and dishonored myself,” Nitta said. His quiet words conveyed no feeling, but his shoulders slumped in despair. The penalty for stealing from the Tokugawa was death, as everyone knew.

“I hereby pronounce you guilty of embezzlement and treason,” said Magistrate Aoki.

Sano drew a breath to ask that Aoki delay the execution until he solved the murder case. He might need more information from Nitta, and he wanted all the suspects alive until he determined who was the killer. But the magistrate spoke first.

“I will wait to sentence you because you are accused of yet another serious crime,” he said to Nitta. “You will now undergo trial for the murder of Lord Mitsuyoshi.”

The treasury minister jerked upright, as if pierced by shock. Disbelief stunned Sano. Magistrate Aoki intended to try Nitta here, today, for the murder, and hadn’t even notified Sano! Then Sano realized he should have expected this. The magistrate aspired to a loftier status than his present post, and he never gave up trying for a promotion. He always insinuated himself into high-level bakufu business, hoping to impress the shogun. Unsatisfied with condemning Treasury Minister Nitta for embezzlement, he’d seized the chance to prosecute Nitta as the murderer of the shogun’s heir.

Magistrate Aoki now stared across the room at Sano, defying him to object.

“Honorable Magistrate, with all due respect, I must ask that you postpone the murder trial.” Despite his anger, Sano spoke politely because he knew the danger inherent in his request. Heads swiveled toward him, and he recognized important bakufu officials among the audience. “I also ask you to defer Treasury Minister Nitta’s sentence for embezzlement and keep him under house arrest for now.”

“Why is that?” Magistrate Aoki’s stony eyes glinted.

Sano saw the treasury minister gazing at him in avid hope of reprieve. Nitta’s normally pale skin had acquired the same gray color as his hair; he looked to have aged a decade since Sano had last met him.

“The murder investigation isn’t finished,” Sano said, although alarmed to take the dubious position of protecting a criminal from the law. “It hasn’t yet been established whether Treasury Minister Nitta or someone else is the killer. And I need him to be available for interrogation.”

“Your request is noted-and regretfully declined.” Magistrate Aoki’s manner was deferential, but laced with enjoyment. “I remind you that a magistrate has the right to schedule trials and sentences at his discretion.”

While Sano enjoyed high status in the bakufu because he belonged to the shogun’s inner court, his actual rank was ambiguous. Whether he had authority over other officials was a matter of constant debate.

“The court shall proceed,” Magistrate Aoki continued. “Whatever punishment I deem appropriate for Treasury Minister Nitta shall be meted out today.”

“His Excellency the Shogun has given me the responsibility for identifying the killer of Lord Mitsuyoshi,” Sano said, struggling to control his rage. “For Treasury Minister Nitta to be tried for murder and punished for embezzlement today will interfere with my duty.”

“I begin to think that you wish to delay justice for your own sake.” Menace lurked beneath Aoki’s even voice; the audience stirred in uneasy anticipation. “Would you rather see the murderer of His Excellency’s heir go unpunished than have someone other than yourself determine whether Treasury Minister Nitta is guilty?”

This was tantamount to an accusation of treason, and Sano knew that if he persisted in opposing the trial, the accusation might stick. Defeated, he shook his head and seethed in silence. What bad luck that Aoki was on duty this month, instead of Reiko’s father! Magistrate Ueda wouldn’t place self-aggrandizement before reason.

“We shall hear the first witness,” Magistrate Aoki said.

Mixed feelings beset Sano. He didn’t want to see Aoki prove Treasury Minister Nitta’s guilt when he himself couldn’t; but if the magistrate served justice by convicting Nitta, then Sano had no right to complain. Much as he would hate to lose face and the shogun’s regard if Aoki solved the mystery, an end to the investigation would quiet the unrest in the bakufu and save Sano trouble even if his reputation suffered. Furthermore, Sano was curious to see what the trial revealed.

One of the secretaries said, “Kacho, courtesan of Yoshiwara, is ordered to come forward.”

In the front row of the audience, a woman shuffled forth on her knees and stopped near the shirasu. Sano recognized her as one of the courtesans who’d entertained party guests at the Owariya the night Lord Mitsuyoshi died.

“Are you acquainted with Treasury Minister Nitta?” the magistrate asked her.

She bowed and replied meekly: “Yes, Honorable Magistrate.”