“I’ve had enough of your denials,” Hirata said, advancing on Lord Niu. “I want to know what you’ve done with Midori-san and her friends.”
Though Lord Niu stood only as high as Hirata’s shoulder, his crooked sneer was intimidating. “I couldn’t have abducted them. I’ve been here in Edo the whole time. They’ll tell you.” He jerked his chin toward his men.
“It’s true,” Okita said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice. The valet and guards nodded. “He didn’t do it. He never even left the estate.”
This alibi didn’t convince Hirata. Those men owed their loyalty to Lord Niu, had dutifully stood by him through all the evils he’d done, and would lie to protect him. “Then you must have sent troops or hired mercenaries so you could keep your hands clean,” Hirata said.
Anger surged in him, and not just because he thought Lord Niu had kidnapped Midori. The daimyo had been draining enjoyment from his marriage and his anticipation of fatherhood. His heart was thudding, his hands itching to pound the truth out of Lord Niu. He paced around the daimyo, who revolved, glaring at him.
“That is a lie,” Lord Niu sputtered. “I didn’t order the kidnapping. How could I have, when I had no idea the women were going on that trip?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” Hirata said, circling Lord Niu, growing angrier by the moment. “You have spies at Edo Castle because you’re deluded enough to think the Tokugawa are plotting war against you-even though they wouldn’t disrupt the peace they’ve maintained for almost a century. You must have heard about Lady Keisho-in’s plans.”
“How dare you mock me?” Lord Niu clenched and unclenched his hands, as though eager to strangle Hirata. “Why do you waste time accusing me, instead of hunting the real culprit?”
Their mutual antagonism vibrated in the atmosphere. The guards rested their hands on their sword hilts; Marume and Fukida hovered alert, anticipating battle.
“May I suggest that there has been a misunderstanding?” Okita said cautiously. His main duty was to control Lord Niu and defuse situations that could ignite the daimyo’s temper, Hirata knew. “Perhaps if we all sit down and have some tea, we can resolve our differences.”
Lord Niu ignored his retainer. He froze, and a look of horrified comprehension nearly aligned the halves of his face. “Oh, I see what’s going on,” he said to Hirata. “This is another of your schemes against me.” Lord Niu clung to the conviction that Hirata was out to get him, despite Hirata’s assurances that all he wanted was a truce. “You want me gone forever, and my honor disgraced-and what better way than to brand me a traitor?” The daimyo jabbed a finger into Hirata’s chest. “You kidnapped the women yourself, to frame me!”
“What?” Shock halted Hirata and dropped his mouth. How Lord Niu twisted reality never ceased to amaze him. “But I didn’t-surely you can’t believe-”
“Don’t deny it,” Lord Niu said, his complexion purple with fury. “You and the shogun hatched the scheme together. You arranged the crime. You used my daughter to implicate me. The shogun plans to execute me for abducting his mother, then confiscate my lands.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Hirata protested.
“What did he promise you in exchange for your help, you dirty sneak?” Lord Niu seized Hirata by the front of his kimono. “A portion of my wealth? My province to rule?”
Outraged, Hirata wrenched free of Lord Niu. “I would never frame anyone for murder and treason. Even though you deserve punishment for everything you’ve done to me, I would never conspire against my wife’s father. You’re just trying to divert suspicion from yourself onto me!”
“See how he pretends to be innocent,” Lord Niu said to the assembly, his voice filled with scorn. “See how he pretends to believe he thinks I’m guilty. See how he eagerly anticipates my ruin. But you won’t get away with it.”
Suddenly he lunged at Hirata. The impact of his body knocked Hirata off balance. He reeled backward and crashed against a wall.
The painted landscape mural cracked. Lord Niu’s hands closed around his neck and squeezed.
“Where are my daughter and Lady Keisho-in?” Lord Niu shouted while Hirata choked and struggled to pry the daimyo’s hands loose. “Tell me what you’ve done with them.”
That Lord Niu had turned him into the suspect, and usurped the role of interrogator, astounded Hirata. Detectives Fukida and Mar-ume hurried to his rescue, but Okita got there first. Okita grabbed the daimyo and hauled him off Hirata. While Hirata gasped for air, Lord Niu flung Okita away from him. His gaze lit on his valet, who hunched, terrified, on the floor near him. He snatched the shaving razor from the man’s hand.
“I’ll make you admit your evil deeds!” Lord Niu roared. He charged at Hirata.
Compelled to defend himself, goaded beyond prudence, Hirata drew his sword. He could tolerate no more of Lord Niu’s craziness, insults, or attacks. As hot anger overrode self-control, Hirata almost forgot why he’d come here. He would end this war now, regardless of the consequences.
Then Marume and Fukida caught hold of him, arresting his flight toward the daimyo. “No, Hirata-san!” they shouted.
The guards rushed and seized Lord Niu. Trained to protect people from their master, and their master from himself, they gripped his thrashing limbs. He cursed and fought them, but they wrested the razor from his hand and restrained him.
“You’ll pay for setting me up, you despicable lout!” he yelled at Hirata. “I’ll slice your guts!”
“Come on, let’s go,” Marume said. He and Fukida dragged Hirata from the room.
Now Hirata came to his senses, recalled his purpose. “But I’m not finished.” Wild with rage and distress, he resisted his men; he dragged his feet in the corridor.
“It’s no use,” Fukida said, urging Hirata out of the mansion. “Even if he knows where Midori-san is, he won’t talk. Staying will only get you killed.”
Hirata reluctantly capitulated. Outside the estate, they mounted their horses, and he realized how badly he’d handled the confrontation with Lord Niu. He should have kept calm and treated the daimyo with courtesy instead of losing his temper. Even as he understood that his father-in-law would probably have behaved the same way whatever he’d done, Hirata experienced mortifying shame. “I threw away a chance to solve the case,” he said.
“There will be other chances,” Marume said, swinging himself into the saddle. “Don’t worry-we’ll save Midori-san, no matter what.”
This attempt at reassurance failed to soothe Hirata. As they rode down the street, the sun rising over the roofs of the daimyo estates reminded him that time was quickly passing. And he was no closer to finding his wife now than when he’d heard the news of her abduction.
Fukida spoke with the hesitant air of a man voicing what his superior wouldn’t want to hear: “There’s good reason to believe Lord Niu is the kidnapper… but we can’t prove it. And as you told us Chamberlain Yanagisawa said last night, there is an abundance of suspects. Fixating too early on Lord Niu might steer us in the wrong direction.”
Hirata inhaled and nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t let my prejudice blind me to the possibility that someone other than Lord Niu took the women.” And unless he disciplined himself, he might jeopardize his mission.
He and the detectives turned their horses onto the boulevard and galloped west. Ahead, the road wound and narrowed toward the invisible horizon; shops, houses, and pedestrians dwindled into a shimmering haze of heat and charcoal smoke. The hills were gray smudges against the bleached blue sky. If the weather held, a day of hard, fast riding should take Hirata and his men to the scene of the massacre and abduction.