“Ohira is the most dubious witness of all,” Sano said, fighting desperation. Only moments remained until his confrontation with the Dutch. “Who else is in a better position to move barbarians off Deshima and murder them? And anyone can see why he wants me condemned as a traitor and corrupter of innocent youth: That would excuse his son’s behavior and lessen the family’s disgrace, wouldn’t it?” Sano described the hint of conspiracy he’d observed between Chief Ohira and Nirin. “As far as I’m concerned, Ohira is the prime suspect.”

“But what would be his reason for killing Jan Spaen?” Nagai asked impatiently.

Lack of motive was the only weak point in the case against Ohira. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Sano said. Nagai shrugged, keeping his eyes on the Dutch ship. Sano could now see its crew on deck, ready to attack again. With increasing urgency, he hurried on. “This tribunal convenes at considerable trouble to the magistrates and expense to the bakufu. The magistrates will resent being summoned to hear a fabricated case. The bakufu frowns upon anyone who abuses the law for personal gain. And I have allies in Edo. You could save yourself a lot of trouble by dropping the charges against me before matters go any farther.”

Governor Nagai’s expression turned cautious, but he shook his head. “I realize it’s in your interest for me to discredit the witnesses and dismiss the evidence. But that’s impossible.”

Nagai must have more to lose by freeing him than by mounting a fraudulent treason case, Sano thought. Did this indicate the governor’s complicity in the smuggling or murders? Was he afraid of what Sano’s investigation might reveal about him?

“The law requires that I prosecute traitors without exception or mercy,” continued Nagai. “And the proceedings have been set in motion; no one can halt them now.”

Through the cloud of ambiguities, Sano sensed one awful certainty: The long arm of Chamberlain Yanagisawa, reaching all the way from Edo to Nagasaki. Whatever Nagai’s motives, the chamberlain would support the campaign against Sano—and punish the governor if it failed. Nagai, the canny politician, knew this.

The warship was nearing the ring of patrol barges. Governor Nagai leaned over the rail, shouting commands. The ring opened, allowing the warship to pass through. Sano saw Captain Oss, his red hair swirling like windblown flames, standing on the upper deck. Surrounded by armed troops, he aimed a musket directly at the Japanese warship. Sano knew that behind the rows of jutting black cannon, barbarian gunners waited in the lower decks, flaming torches in hand, poised to fire more deadly mortars. As the only man aboard his craft not wearing armor, Sano felt naked and vulnerable.

“Iishino!” he called. “Get up here!”