Sano frowned, disturbed because Reiko had put the alibi in question. “Maybe she forgot that Hana was with her.”
“Maybe.” But Reiko doubted that her mother-in-law would have forgotten such a crucial fact. To her, Etsuko had appeared less impaired of memory than deliberately evasive. It seemed more plausible that Hana had lied, Etsuko hadn’t known that Hana was going to cover for her, and they hadn’t gotten their stories straight.
A moment passed, during which neither Reiko nor Sano spoke. Then Sano said, “Do you think my mother is guilty?” His tone was partly accusatory, partly defensive.
“No,” Reiko said, so fast that Sano eyed her with surprise. “But I think she’s withholding information—” Reiko faltered under his look, which anticipated betrayal and hurt. An uncomfortable, familiar tension vibrated between them. Reiko had felt it before, on occasions when their opinions of a suspect’s guilt or innocence had differed. But this time they couldn’t afford to be at odds. “Information that could help her,” Reiko hastily amended. “Sometimes people charged with crimes just don’t want their private business aired, even if it has nothing to do with the crimes.”
She didn’t want Sano to think she was digging for proof that Etsuko was guilty and taking the accusers’ side against his mother. If their positions were reversed and her father had been accused, she would want nothing less than Sano’s complete faith that her father was innocent. Now she saw relief in Sano’s expression.
“I could talk to your mother again, if you like,” Reiko suggested. “Maybe she’ll open up and tell me more.”
Sano considered a moment. Reiko could feel him weighing possible benefits and dangers. Then he let out his breath. “All right. I haven’t gotten much out of her myself. You might as well go ahead, as long as you’re gentle with her. What could it hurt?”
At the temple in Shinagawa, the priests knelt in the main worship hall for evening prayers. Light from a thousand candles shimmered on their saffron robes and their shaved heads, on the golden Buddha statue surrounded by gold lotus flowers upon the altar. Sweet, pungent incense smoke and the rhythmic drone of the priests’ chanting rose heavenward.
Yanagisawa knelt in his usual position at the back of the hall. Chanting along with the other men, he didn’t look up when Yoritomo, dressed in a hooded cloak, tiptoed into the room and knelt beside him. Nor did Yoritomo appear to notice Yanagisawa. Eyes downcast, they carried on a conversation below the sound of the praying.
“This must be urgent, if you couldn’t wait until we’re finished,” Yanagisawa whispered.
“It is,” Yoritomo whispered back. “And I can only stay a little while. The shogun is keeping me on a tight rein.” He told Yanagisawa about the good character reference that Sano’s mother had received from Tadatoshi’s mother and sister, the new suspect they’d named, the evidence against Colonel Doi, and Hirata’s search for the missing tutor.
Yanagisawa frowned. “Our friend Sano is doing too well with his investigation.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Yoritomo sounded as distressed as if Sano’s progress were his own fault.
“But we shouldn’t be surprised,” Yanagisawa said. “Sano has a talent for fighting his way out of a thornbush. I’ve been watching him do it for ten years. I swear, he must have a guardian deity.”
But not even divine protection could save Sano much longer.
Yoritomo didn’t answer. A sidelong glance at him showed Yanagisawa that his son was more distressed than ever. Fearing that Yoritomo had saved worse news for last, Yanagisawa asked, “What else?”
“I criticized Sano in front of the shogun. I turned the shogun against him a little.”
“That’s excellent,” Yanagisawa said. “Why so glum?”
“You should have seen the look in Sano’s eyes. He was hurt because I betrayed him.”
Yanagisawa refrained from pointing out that Yoritomo could hardly have expected Sano to be delighted. Yoritomo was easily wounded by sarcasm. “Sano is used to treachery. He shouldn’t be so sensitive.”
“But I feel awful!”
“Don’t,” Yanagisawa said. “Just remember, taking Sano down is necessary. If he falls out of favor with the shogun, that’s good. This is war. It’s either him or us.”
A mournful sigh issued from Yoritomo. “I know.”
“It’s done,” Yanagisawa said. “Just forget it.”
“It wasn’t all that happened. Afterward, Sano cornered me. He wanted to know why I did it.” Anxiety filled Yoritomo’s whisper. “He asked what was going on.”