Unflinchingly he held Sano’s gaze while the sergeants obeyed, then said, “I should have thought you’d be meditating on your wrongs, cleansing your spirit, and preparing to die like a proper samurai.” Bitter antipathy roughened his tone. “What do you mean by coming here now?”

“What do you think?” Sano strode up to the dais, hot with fury at this man who had incriminated him.

Then a closer look at the chief unexpectedly awakened his pity and admiration. Ohira’s ashen skin was so taut that Sano could see every brittle bone in his face. The shadows rimmed his eyes like bruises; his emaciated body seemed little more than a skeleton beneath the folds of clothing. Ohira must be mortally ill with grief for Kiyoshi; yet, like a true samurai, he continued to perform his duties. Sano spoke more politely than he’d intended.

“I want to know why you framed me for treason.”

Ohira glared. “I can assure you I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through clenched teeth. “Your accusation is ridiculous, though criminals often try to shift the blame for their misdeeds. What I fail to understand is how you could corrupt a decent, honorable youth like my son. When you arrived in Nagasaki, I knew you would be trouble. But I’ve underestimated your evilness.”

Sudden doubt arose in Sano. Maybe Ohira wasn’t part of the smuggling ring and had nothing to do with Spaen’s murder, or Peony’s. Maybe, truly believing that Sano was a villain who had destroyed Kiyoshi, he wanted revenge. Maybe Governor Nagai had simply exploited this desire in order to create more evidence against Sano. Now Sano changed tactics.

“I don’t think Kiyoshi is guilty,” he said. “By telling the truth, you may be able to save him.”

Ohira rose and stepped off the dais. As he walked to the window, his wasted muscles quaked with the effort. “Of course Kiyoshi is guilty,” Ohira said, turning his back on Sano to look outside.

In the rainy street, the servant stood chained to the gate, his head ducked in shame while a crowd jeered and threw horse dung at him. “Kiyoshi was caught in the act; he confessed,” Ohira said. “He must endure his punishment: It’s the law. No one can save him now.”

Yet Sano detected a fissure of hope in his stony voice. “Are Governor Nagai and Interpreter Iishino involved in smuggling? Or are you and they following Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s orders to ruin me?”

“Your accusations against Governor Nagai and Interpreter Iishino are slanderous.” Ohira gazed steadily out the window. “And I’m not privy to the chamberlain’s orders.”

Outside, a band of ruffians set a dog upon the chained captive, whose pleas for mercy chimed plaintively between the animal’s barks. Ohira silently watched the consequences of his actions.