“The soldiers make me kneel before the executioners,” Kiyoshi whispered. A steady tremor shook him, gradually building in intensity. “I beg for mercy, because I’m innocent. I’ve served the shōgun loyally all my life. I’m the hardest-working officer in the harbor patrol.” His voice cracked on a high, plaintive note. “I always volunteer for extra duty. I practice the martial arts so I can someday bring my lord glory on the battlefield. … I spend my nights in the watchtower, looking out for foreign warships. … I study Dutch so I can understand the barbarians whose military power threatens our land.” His voice rose to a wail. “I’ve never acted against the shōgun or his regime. Whoever says so is lying!”

From the corridor, the warden called, “Is everything all right in there?”

“Yes,” Sano replied hastily, fearing that the interruption would silence Kiyoshi.

But Kiyoshi, mesmerized by his hallucination, seemed unaware of external distractions. “Governor Nagai states the charges against me,” he said, whispering again. “ ‘Ohira Kiyoshi has placed his personal gain before the interests of the shōgun and nation, thereby committing treason against both. He has blood on his hands. Therefore, he must die.’ ”

Personal gain? Blood on his hands? Maybe the youth really was a smuggler, acting on orders from his father, Nagai, or Iishino—or on his own initiative, to get money to marry Junko. Had he conspired with Jan Spaen, then killed the barbarian during an argument? Had he later killed Peony because she knew what he’d done? Then, when caught last night, had he framed Sano in an attempt to excuse his own behavior and receive a lighter sentence?

Had the two surviving barbarians been involved in the crimes?

Sano couldn’t dismiss Assistant Director deGraeff’s possible involvement. And, with a sudden qualm, he thought of how Dr. Huygens’s language skill would enable him to communicate with Japanese members of a smuggling ring. He’d probably acquired his Japanese speech through conversations with students, including Kiyoshi—his accomplice? Sano didn’t want to believe the worst about either Huygens or the boy in whom he saw his younger self, but if it was true, he must know.

Moving closer, Sano grasped the boy’s slim, muscular shoulders. Their tremors resonated through his fingers. “Kiyoshi. Was it you who took Dutch goods to the cove last night? Whose blood did you spill? Did you make a deal with a barbarian? Which one? Why did you lie about me? Answer!”

“Please, let me go!” Kiyoshi’s eyes rolled in terror. “Don’t bring that sword any closer. You must listen. I was just trying to stop—I didn’t want anyone to find out about—no. Please. NO!”