Nestled in layers of cotton batting were ten mechanical clocks like the one in Governor Nagai’s office. Sano and Hirata opened the other crates. These held muskets and pistols; ammunition; Chinese porcelainware; Persian silks; Christian crosses and rosaries; bundled spices that filled the cave with the sweet odors of cinnamon and nutmeg.

“Smugglers’ loot,” Sano said grimly. Just as he’d expected. Jan Spaen had plied his illicit trade in Japan as well as in the Spice Islands, and it had survived his death. “The lights kept everyone away from Deshima while the smugglers moved the goods out of the warehouse and over here.” Dismay seeped like cold water into his heart. “For an operation of this magnitude to succeed, a lot of people must be involved—the barbarians to supply the loot and the Deshima staff to transfer it; a merchant like Urabe to sell it; the harbor patrol, police force, and Governor Nagai to look the other way. One of the smugglers must have shot me last night, to keep me from catching them.”

Sano knew he must expose and disband the smuggling ring, among whom he suspected he would find Spaen’s killer. But could he stay alive long enough to do it? Such powerful adversaries wouldn’t hesitate to destroy even the shōgun’s emissary to protect themselves and their operation, which must earn them huge, untaxed profits.

“Where did the boatman go?” Hirata said. “If he came out of the cave and went up the beach to the woods, we would have seen or heard him—we weren’t that far behind.”

In a niche in the cave wall stood an oil lamp. Sano lit it from the lantern’s purple light and walked toward the back of the cave. He halted abruptly, looking down. A dark substance stained the cave’s floor. Sano knelt and saw streaks, as if someone had tried to scrub the floor clean, but the rock had absorbed the color. He sniffed the substance and detected a faint, metallic sourness.

“Blood,” he said. “Director Spaen was shot and stabbed here. That’s why there was no evidence of his murder on Deshima, and why the divers couldn’t find the weapons.”

Now the barbarians rejoined the array of suspects. If Spaen had come here, so might have Assistant Director deGraeff or Dr. Huygens. The smugglers’ cache proved that they did, after all, have access to guns. Sano’s spirit quailed as he saw the investigation circle right back to where he’d started. He would have to reinterrogate the Dutch later. When he rose to continue his examination of the cave, he saw that Hirata had vanished.

“Here, sōsakan-sama,” Hirata called, emerging from a crevice hidden behind a protruding rock formation.