Remembering these facts, Sano felt the resurgence of a buried passion. While a young pupil at the Zōjō Temple school, he’d sneaked into a forbidden section of the library. There he’d discovered scrolls documenting Japanese foreign relations over the past two hundred years, and read with fascination of the white barbarians … until the abbot caught him. Sano’s back still ached when he recalled the beating he’d received. But his curiosity about the barbarians had persisted, despite much discouragement. Laws barred everyone except the most trusted individuals from contact with Europeans, whom the bakufu feared would incite rebellion, as they had in the past, and ultimately conquer Japan. Foreign books, and books about foreigners, were banned. Now Sano saw an advantage in his status and his unwanted trip to Nagasaki. At last he would see the legendary barbarians with golden hair, eyes the color of the sky, and bizarre customs. And hidden under his sash was a document that would bridge the language barrier between them.

Sano’s closest friend was Dr. Ito Genboku, a physician sentenced to lifetime custodianship of Edo Morgue as punishment for practicing forbidden foreign science. Dr. Ito had assisted Sano with murder investigations and continued his studies, using foreign books obtained through illicit channels from Dutch traders in Nagasaki. Sano, kept under house arrest by Yanagisawa’s men during his last hours in Edo, had sent Hirata to convey his farewells to Dr. Ito. Hirata had returned with this message:

Sano-san,

It was with great regret that I learned of your imminent departure. To make your stay in Nagasaki more interesting, here is a letter of introduction to Dr. Nicolaes Huygens, my trusted, confidential source of information about foreign science. I believe you will enjoy his company as I have his correspondence. I hope that fate will soon allow your safe return to Edo.

Ito Genboku

Folded inside this letter was a paper inked with scrawls that Sano assumed to be Dutch writing. Yet any encounter with foreigners could provoke accusations of treason.

“I wonder what’s going on up there,” Hirata said, breaking Sano’s line of thought.

Following his retainer’s gaze, Sano saw running figures atop the cliffs, shouting to one another in inexplicable frenzy. Toward the ship sped a long barge, rowed by teams of oarsmen and crammed with samurai.

“Ah, the harbor patrol. At last.” The captain called out to the barge: “The shōgun’s envoys wish an official escort into harbor. Wait, where are you going? Stop!”

The barge raced past. Two more followed; none stopped. The faces of the crews reflected the urgency of men on some strange life-or-death mission.

“Something’s wrong here,” the captain declared.