The chief persecutor compressed his lips in irritation. “You shan’t find the barbarian’s killer among them. When a Christian cell is discovered, the members are jailed. Their associates are relocated in order to disperse any remaining evil influence. There are several people under surveillance now, and if any tried to approach Deshima, they would have been arrested. We exert great effort to prevent contact between Japanese Christians and foreigners. And the effort has been very successful. Come. I’ll show you.”

Rising, he led Sano outside and through a guarded gate. “Welcome to Nagasaki Jail’s Christian compound.”

Sano knew that Nagasaki, where Christianity had first taken root in Japan, had always harbored the largest concentration of converts and thus seen the most severe persecution in the country. During the Great Martyrdom some seventy years ago, churches had been destroyed and one hundred twenty Christians beheaded or burned to death. Subsequent regimes had carried out over five hundred more executions. Sano had heard that Nagasaki’s current administration continued the relentless, brutal campaign against the few remaining Christians. But his first sight of the Christian compound didn’t confirm this.

Within the fenced yard stood ten neat, thatched huts. Through the windows, Sano saw men and women placidly spinning yarn and sewing clothes; mothers nursing babies; families eating meals together; a doctor lighting herbal healing cones on a patient’s chest.

“This is most of what remains of Nagasaki’s Christian community,” Dannoshin announced with a proud sweep of his pale, fat hand. “Sixty people, including children. Locked away so they can cause no harm.”

In a larger building, residents bathed in wooden tubs or strolled around the room, watched by guards. More guards patrolled the yard; otherwise, the compound was a far cry from the jail’s grim dungeons and torture chambers.

“The rabble are allowed to sell the things they sew, and keep the money,” Dannoshin said. “Men and women have separate quarters, but families can visit freely. They can wash and take walks in the common house, and if they get sick, we cure them.”

Sano was about to commend the chief persecutor for his humane treatment of the prisoners, and to ask if he might question them about fellow Christians outside the prison. Then Dannoshin added, “You might think we’re too easy on them, but harsh punishment only makes them cleave more stubbornly to their faith. It creates martyrs, who attract more converts. We treat them well so they’ll behave.”

He licked his lips and smiled, a salacious leer. “I prefer to concentrate my efforts on a few favored individuals whom I believe will make good informants. As you will see.”