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Authors: Laura Joh Rowland
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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.
“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.
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