Sano realized that he and his uncle had found common ground: They both wanted justice for Chiyo. Sano saw the attack on Chiyo as a personal offense to himself as well as her immediate family. He felt a new, unexpected kinship with his estranged relatives.

"Of course," he said. "I'll start at once. The first thing I need to do is speak with Chiyo."

"Why?"

"To ask her what happened."

Resistance flared in Major Kumazawa's eyes. "She was kidnapped and violated. What more do we need to know? I don't want her forced to relive it. She's been through enough."

Sano saw that working with his uncle would be no easy partnership. "Chiyo will relive what happened to her whether she talks about it or not." Sano knew that although Reiko seldom spoke of the episodes of violence in her life, she still had nightmares about them. "And right now Chiyo is our only source of information about her attacker."

"I don't want you to upset her," Major Kumazawa said, obstinate. "We should go out and shake up everyone in the district until somebody talks."

They might have to resort to that eventually, but Sano couldn't ignore their best lead, the victim who'd witnessed the crime. And he was getting fed up with his uncle's interference. "Understand that I don't need your permission to question Chiyo." Sano rose; so did his detectives. "You can be present while I do it, but I will question her, make no mistake."

Detectives Marume and Fukida looked gratified because Sano had put his foot down. Major Kumazawa stared in offense because Sano had pulled rank on him. How he must resent that Sano the outcast had risen so high in society!

He obviously realized that he'd been given an order he must obey, but he said, "Can't you at least wait until tomorrow?"

"No." Sano was loath to cause further pain to Chiyo, but the passage of time could erase important clues from her mind. He added, "I'll be careful with her. I give you my word."

Major Kumazawa rose reluctantly. "Very well."

In the women's quarters, Sano and Major Kumazawa entered a room where Chiyo lay in bed, her mother and the physician kneeling on either side. She looked small and delicate under a thick quilt. Her eyes were closed. The right side of her head had been shaved around an ugly red cut, crossed by stitches. Major Kumazawa stared at it, appalled.

The physician was a middle-aged man who wore the dark blue coat of his profession. "The cut wasn't deep." He covered it with salve and a cotton pad, then wound a bandage around Chiyo's head. "It should heal perfectly."

"What about the inside of her head?" Major Kumazawa said.

"It's too soon to tell."

"Is she unconscious?"

"No, just drowsy. I've given her a potion to ease the pain and let her sleep." The physician picked up a tray that held his instruments, jars of medicine, Chiyo's hair clippings, and a bloodstained cloth. "I'll come back to check on her in the morning." He bowed and departed.

Major Kumazawa knelt at the foot of the bed, obviously disturbed by his daughter's condition. His wife glanced up at Sano. She seemed too shy as well as too upset to speak. Chiyo's eyes fluttered open. She looked around, her pupils dilated wide and black by the drug. Her gaze fixed on Sano. Her lips formed broken, halting speech: "… thanks… rescuing me… grateful…"

Sano was moved by her effort. Even in her condition she had better manners than her father did. Sano knelt near her and noticed again her resemblance to his mother. She had the same sweet, pretty features set in a rectangular face. He thought of a time when he'd interrogated his mother about a crime, when she'd lain drugged and sleepy just like this. But Chiyo was the victim, not the accused.

"Chamberlain Sano is going to catch the person who did this to you," Major Kumazawa told her. "But first he needs to ask you a few questions." Only a few, his gaze warned Sano.

Chiyo nodded weakly. Sano began in a quiet voice, "Do you remember wandering in the Asakusa district before I found you? Can you tell me how you got there?"

Vagueness clouded her eyes. "I woke up lying in an alley. My head hurt. It was raining. When I stood up, I was so dizzy I could hardly walk. I didn't know where I was. But I kept going. When I was a child, Papa told me that if I were ever lost, I should walk until I saw something I recognized, I shouldn't just cry and wait for help."

Sano admired her bravery. He also approved of how Major Kumazawa had taught his daughter to be self-reliant. "Did you see anyone around when you woke up?"

Her forehead wrinkled. "No. I don't think there was anyone."

For now Sano avoided the subject of what the kidnapper had done to Chiyo. Maybe he could get enough information about the man without discussing the rape itself. He said, "Do you remember going to the Awashima Shrine with your baby?"

"My baby…" Alarm agitated Chiyo. "Where is my baby?" She tried to sit up, gasping and frantic.

Her mother gently restrained her, whispering, "It's all right, dearest. He's safe at home."

"I want to go home," Chiyo cried. "I want to see my children. They need me. I want my husband."

"I've sent for him," Major Kumazawa said. "He'll take you home as soon as you're well enough to go." He asked Sano, "Are you almost finished?"

"Almost." Sano asked Chiyo, "What happened at the shrine?"

She made an obvious, labored effort to calm herself. Her gaze wandered, as if into the past. "My baby started crying. He wasn't used to so many people, so much noise. I thought that if I took him someplace quiet, he would settle. So I left my attendants and carried him into a garden. That's the last thing I remember until… until…"

Chiyo's eyes and mouth opened wide in horror, at something that only she could see. She screamed, "No! Stop! Please!" and thrashed under the quilt. "Help! Help!"

She was remembering the rape, Sano realized. Her mother tried to soothe her, but she burst into a torrent of weeping. Major Kumazawa said to Sano, "That's enough." His paternal protectiveness outweighed his duty to obey Sano and their mutual wish to catch Chiyo's rapist. "Please go."

7

High on a hill above the city, Edo Castle's massive conglomeration of stone walls, gabled roofs, and watchtowers shimmered, hazy and insubstantial, in the rain and fog. As dusk deepened into evening, lights from its many lanterns wavered as if submerged in the sea.

Inside the castle, Sano's estate occupied an enclosed compound. The mansion's many wings angled around courtyards and gardens. Within the private chambers at the center of the estate, Reiko began the nightly ordeal of putting her daughter to bed.

"Time to go to sleep," Reiko said, patting the futon laid out on the floor.

"No!" Akiko said.

Reiko sighed. Akiko was a moody child, all sweetness one moment and all temper the next. Reiko wondered whether bad experiences she'd had while pregnant had affected her daughter's personality. Or maybe Akiko had never forgiven Reiko for leaving her behind when she and Sano had gone to rescue Masahiro after he'd been kidnapped. Sometimes they got along fine, but often they clashed wills like enemy warlords.

"Come on, Akiko, it's late, and you're tired," Reiko said.

"No tired," Akiko protested.

Her face bunched into a frown that portended one of her horrific tantrums. She didn't have them for anybody except Reiko, who, determined to learn to handle her child, resisted the temptation to call the nurse to deal with Akiko.

"No more arguments," she said gently but firmly. "You're going to bed now."

Akiko sobbed, screamed, and beat her head and heels on the floor as if possessed by a demon. Reiko soothed, scolded, and pleaded. By the time Akiko had worn herself out and fallen asleep, Reiko felt as beaten up as if she'd lost a battle.