For now Sano said, “How well did you know Colonel Doi?”

Hana paused before replying. Her eyes gleamed and she smiled, as if at a sudden recollection, or inspiration. “Well enough to know he didn’t get along with his master.”

It must have been obvious to her that Sano was fishing for that answer, and he couldn’t complain because she’d taken the bait suspiciously fast. “What gave you that idea?”

“I overheard Doi and Tadatoshi arguing,” Hana said.

“When was this?”

“A few days before the fire.” Hana picked up a cleaver.

“About what?” Sano asked.

“I don’t know,” Hana said. “I came in at the end. But I heard Doi say, ‘If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you.’”

Here at last was evidence against Doi. Not that Sano wasn’t pleased, but he said, “Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

Hana began to chop. Whack followed expert whack. Apart came the duck’s carcass. “I’m sure.”

Sano eyed Hana quizzically. “You remember a snatch of conversation from forty-three years ago.”

“A samurai threatening to kill his master isn’t something you see every day,” Hana said. “It stuck in my mind.”

“How convenient that it should pop up now.”

“Well, it did,” Hana insisted. “That’s what Doi said. And I’ll swear to it in front of the shogun.” She laid down her cleaver beside the neatly dismembered duck.

Hirata entered the kitchen compound and called, “Sano-san, the shogun is here to see you.”

“The shogun?” Sano was surprised, not just because Hana’s mention of the shogun had coincided with his arrival. “Here?” The shogun rarely came to visit. Sano couldn’t remember the last time. “What for?”

“He didn’t say, but we’d better not keep him waiting.”

The shogun sat on the dais in the reception room, with Yoritomo. Servants fanned up fires in charcoal braziers and positioned lacquer screens to shield him from cold drafts. Sano knelt on the floor and bowed, relegated to the subordinate position in his own house. Hirata followed suit. “Welcome, Your Excellency,” Sano said.

“Greetings,” the shogun said, as casually as if he visited every day.

Yoritomo, a frequent visitor, looked uncomfortable, his handsome face tense. He murmured a greeting.

“May I offer you some refreshments?” Sano said.

Refreshments were politely refused, offered again, and accepted. Servants laid out enough food for a banquet. As everyone sipped tea and the shogun and Yoritomo picked at sashimi, cakes, and dumplings, Sano said, “May I ask what brings you here, Your Excellency?”

“I wanted to talk to you. Away from my cousin.” The shogun glanced around nervously, as if Lord Matsudaira might be lurking nearby.

Sano was glad not to have Lord Matsudaira present, but also curious. “May I ask why?”

The shogun knitted his brow. “I know my cousin wants what’s best for me. But whenever he’s around, things become difficult and troublesome. Have you noticed?”

“I may have,” Sano said, trying not to look at Hirata.

“He has the greatest, ahh, respect and affection for me, but sometimes I feel as if he’s-” The shogun’s tongue worked inside his mouth, as if tasting unpleasant words. “As if he’s mocking me. Do you think so, too?”

Here was Sano’s chance to repay Lord Matsudaira for all the times Lord Matsudaira had maligned Sano to the shogun. Sano felt sorely tempted, but prudence forestalled him. If the shogun found out that Lord Matsudaira wanted to take over the regime, Sano’s own role in the power struggle might become exposed. And the shogun might forgive Lord Matsudaira, his blood kin, but never Sano the outsider, the upstart.

“Perhaps Lord Matsudaira has so much on his mind that he’s not aware of what impression he’s creating,” Sano said.

This evasion quelled the shogun’s fears. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I’m, ahh, too sensitive.”

Sano heard Yoritomo let out his breath. Hirata sat silent, stoic and watchful.

“But at any rate, I came to ask you what, ahh, progress you’ve made in your investigation,” the shogun said. “And I’d just as soon my cousin didn’t join us.”

So would Sano. “I’ve interviewed Tadatoshi’s mother and sister. They don’t believe my mother killed him. In fact, they gave her a good character reference.” The shogun wouldn’t notice that the word of two women was weak compared to Colonel Doi’s without Lord Matsudaira to point it out. “They also identified someone who wanted Tadatoshi dead.” As he related their story about their relative wanting to advance his son up the line in the succession, Sano was glad that Lord Matsudaira wasn’t there to harp on the fact that the man was conveniently dead for Sano to frame.

“Ahh, a new suspect,” the shogun said, impressed.

But Yoritomo looked unhappy instead of pleased that Sano had made headway toward clearing his mother. Sano wondered why.

“And I’ve discovered that my mother has an alibi for the murder,” Sano continued. “Her maid was with her before Tadatoshi disappeared and during the whole time after.”

“So she couldn’t have, ahh, kidnapped and killed him,” the shogun deduced.

Lord Matsudaira would surely have denounced the alibi as fake, created by a loyal servant in debt to her mistress. But the shogun hadn’t the wits to think of that himself. Sano said, “Hana also identified another suspect. She heard him threaten Tadatoshi soon before he disappeared. It’s Colonel Doi.”

“Doi?” The shogun’s mouth fell open. “To think he accused your mother of the crime that he could be guilty of committing!” Enlightenment came over the shogun’s face. “Maybe he’s trying to protect himself.” His ability to draw mental lines between evidence and conclusions improved without Lord Matsudaira around to muddy the waters. “Well, Sano-san, I must say that I am, ahh, leaning toward believing your mother is innocent.”

Sano and Hirata exchanged a glance of cautious triumph.

Yoritomo cleared his throat and said, “Your Excellency, it’s not enough that Chamberlain Sano has produced other suspects besides his mother.” He gave Sano a look that was apologetic yet defiant. “We still don’t know who’s guilty.”

Sano regarded Yoritomo with surprise. They’d been friends for years, and Yoritomo had often professed himself willing to do anything for Sano. Why had he now taken on the role of detractor? Sano experienced a moment of deja vu. Once Yanagisawa had sat beside the shogun and belittled Sano. Now Yanagisawa’s son, his very image, was in the same place.

“Yes, that’s right. I still want to know who killed my cousin,” the shogun said, visibly cooling toward Sano. “What else are you doing to find out?”

Hirata spoke up. “I’m looking for an important witness, the tutor that Colonel Doi says was involved in the kidnapping and murder.” He described how he’d gone to the temple that Egen had once belonged to and learned that Egen had left town after the Great Fire. “I’ve begun a nationwide search for him.”

It sounded futile, but Sano was glad Hirata was making such a heroic effort. The shogun said peevishly, “Well, ahh, I guess that will have to do for now.” He held out his hand to Yoritomo, who helped him rise. “We must be going. It’s time for my medicine.”

As they walked toward the door, Yoritomo sidled past Sano, face averted. Sano signaled Hirata, who accompanied the shogun down the corridor, distracting him with conversation. Sano stood in front of Yoritomo so he couldn’t follow.

“What’s going on?” Sano asked.

Yoritomo looked at the floor. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” Sano said. “You deliberately turned the shogun against me.”

“I only pointed out a fact that seemed worth mentioning.” Yoritomo’s voice quavered.

“I thought we were friends. What’s the matter?”

The shogun called, “Yoritomo-san! Come along!”

“I have to go.” Yoritomo ducked around Sano and scuttled down the corridor.

Sano was left with growing suspicions.