"Better than that," Sano said, kneeling opposite Reiko. "I found Chiyo herself. She's alive."
Reiko was amazed at his quick results. "That's wonderful!" But even though she was glad for Chiyo's sake, she couldn't help feeling disappointed. The investigation was over already.
"I took her to my uncle's house," Sano said.
"The place where your mother grew up? What was it like?"
"About what you would expect. Typical for his rank."
Men weren't good at describing places in the detail that women wanted, Reiko thought. She sensed that the visit to his ancestral estate had caused Sano feelings he would rather not discuss. "Your uncle must have been very pleased and grateful."
"Pleased, I would have liked. Grateful, not exactly." Sano sounded nettled beneath his humor. "He's a stern, hard man-a real old-style samurai."
"Well, a plague on him," Reiko said, offended on Sano's behalf. "You brought his daughter home safe and sound."
"Not exactly sound." Sano described Chiyo's dazed, weak condition and the injury on her head. "And it appears that she was violated."
"How awful," Reiko murmured, recalling the time she'd been kidnapped by a madman who'd nearly ravished her. And she knew that the consequences of a rape could be even worse than the pain and terror.
Masahiro padded barefoot into the room and asked, "What does that mean, 'violated'?"
Reiko and Sano exchanged perturbed glances. They tried not to talk about adult matters when their son could hear, but Masahiro had sharp ears. He could sense when something had happened, and often showed up at the scene before his parents knew he was there. Reiko gestured at Sano. You're his father; you explain.
Sano told Masahiro, "It means she was hurt."
"Hurt how?"
Sano looked as flustered as Reiko felt. Masahiro was familiar with the facts of life; he'd seen animals mating, their offspring born. But he was too young and innocent to know about rape.
"Never mind." Sano put on a stern expression that closed the subject.
"Who did this to Chiyo?" Reiko asked. "Has she said?"
"She doesn't remember much." Sano puffed out his breath with frustrated concern. "And she became so upset that Major Kumazawa put a halt to my questions."
"Is Major Kumazawa my uncle, too?" Masahiro asked.
"He's your great-uncle," Sano said. "Can I meet him?"
Reiko herself was eager to meet Sano's family. She wanted to know what her husband came from, to see his traits reflected in the faces of strangers. But she said, "Someday." A family that had suffered such an ordeal would be in no shape to contend with new relations. She asked Sano, "What are you going to do about Chiyo?"
"Major Kumazawa has asked me to find and punish the kidnapper."
"And you agreed?"
"Of course," Sano said.
Reiko heard misgivings in his voice, but they didn't put off her desire to collaborate in the investigation. "Can I help?"
Sano smiled with appreciation. "As a matter of fact, you can. Major Kumazawa doesn't want me to talk to Chiyo again. I could force him to cooperate, but after what Chiyo has been through, she probably wouldn't want to discuss it with a man. She might be more comfortable with a woman. So I asked Major Kumazawa if he would permit her to be questioned by my wife. He agreed, although reluctantly. Will you do it?"
"I'd be glad to," Reiko said. Not only did she welcome a chance to help catch a criminal and obtain justice for Chiyo; perhaps she could smooth Sano's relations with his newfound family.
"Chiyo insisted on going home to her husband and children," Sano said. "Her husband is a Captain Okubo; he's a retainer to Lord Horio, daimyo of Idzuma Province. They live inside the daimyo's estate. You can talk to her there."
"I'll go first thing tomorrow," Reiko said.
"I'll be needing more help," Sano said. "I've sent for Hirata." Footsteps approached down the corridor, their gait slightly heavier on one leg. "Here he is now."
Into the room strode Hirata, the shogun's ssakan-sama-Most Honorable Investigator of Events, Situations, and People. He'd inherited the post from Sano seven years ago, when Sano became chamberlain. He was also Sano's chief retainer and close friend, although their respective duties kept them much apart.
"Greetings," Hirata said, bowing.
He wasn't tall, and he wore modest garb, a gray and black kimono, surcoat, and trousers. His face was broad and ordinary; he didn't stand out in a crowd. But appearances were deceiving, Reiko knew. Seven years ago, Hirata had been seriously injured in the line of duty. A lesser man would be dead or an invalid, but Hirata had apprenticed himself to a mystic martial arts master. Rigorous training had whittled every spare bit of fat from his body, which was now all muscle, sinew, and bone as strong as steel. Secret rituals had conditioned his mind, had replaced his youthful, naive mien with an expression of preternaturally mature wisdom. And he'd gained a reputation as the best martial artist in Edo.
Masahiro yelled, "Hah, yah!" and launched a flying kick at Hirata. Hirata took the kick in his stomach, howled in comic pain, and fell backward with a floor-shaking thud. Masahiro threw himself on Hirata. As they wrestled and Masahiro laughed, Reiko protested, "Masahiro, that's no way to greet a guest!"
Hirata let Masahiro pin him facedown. Masahiro sat on Hirata's back, crowing, "I win!"
"I surrender," Hirata said. "Let me up." Masahiro climbed off Hirata, who asked Sano, "How can I be of service?"
Sano told him about the kidnapping and assault while Reiko poured cups of sake for the men. "Right now I've no idea who might be responsible. After I spoke with Chiyo, I questioned her attendants, but they didn't see anything. I need you to help me beat the bushes for leads."
"I'll do my best." Hirata didn't mention any other work he might have pending. He had a detective corps to cover for him, and his first duty was to Sano, his sworn master. "I have some contacts who might be useful."
Masahiro had been listening with a pensive frown on his face. He blurted, "I want to help, too."
The adults regarded him with surprise. Sano said, "What? How?"
"I can look for clues," Masahiro said eagerly. "I can interrogate witnesses and suspects." He stammered the difficult words. "I'll catch the bad man."
Hirata chuckled. "Here's a pine cone that didn't fall far from the tree."
"Our son spends too much time playing detective," Reiko said with a laugh.
Masahiro bristled. "I'm not playing! I'm practicing!"
"Yes, and that's good," Sano said, "but this is a real investigation, not a game. We can't have you chasing a bad man who won't want to be caught. It could be dangerous."
"If anybody attacks me, I can defend myself," Masahiro insisted.
He'd proved he could, Reiko knew, but she said, "A real investigation is too complicated. It's for grown-ups, not children."
"You're too young," Sano said.
"I'm not. I'm almost ten!" Masahiro said.
"Your manners are worse than if you were half that age," Reiko rebuked him, but gently because she understood what it was like to want to be a detective and not be permitted. Once Sano had refused to let her participate in his investigations on the grounds that women weren't capable or allowed by tradition. Only by taking matters into her own hands, and proving her worth, had she prevailed. "Don't contradict your parents."
Masahiro bowed his head. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He was a good, considerate boy who only forgot courtesy when carried away by youthful impetuousness. "How long do I have to wait before I can be a detective?"