The interview revealed that Dr. Huygens had joined the East India Company twelve years ago, accompanying Jan Spaen as ship surgeon on voyages since. Huygens had spent the evening of Spaen’s disappearance working in his study, and the night fast asleep. No motive for murder emerged, and Sano searched his quarters without result. Secretly Sano had hoped to clear Dr. Ito’s friend of suspicion, yet by doing so he’d lost a chance to save himself.

Now, as Sano contemplated the barbarian, who sat meekly at the desk, an idea dawned on him. Inclined to trust this man because Dr. Ito did, he believed in Dr. Huygens’s innocence. And he needed his help.

“Will that be all?” Interpreter Iishino asked. Chief Ohira waited impatiently.

What Sano wanted to do was dangerous, illegal—treasonous. But he wanted the truth about Spaen’s murder. He wanted the personal and professional triumph of delivering the killer to justice. If he didn’t solve the case, he would lose the shōgun’s favor and cause a war. And he wanted to know the barbarian doctor and explore the world of foreign science denied him by the Japanese laws he abhorred.

“I’d like a moment alone with Dr. Huygens,” he said.

Ohira frowned. “This is highly irregular. The rules forbid me to allow it.”

“Because it’s dangerous to be alone with a barbarian,” Iishino chimed in, “very dangerous. Why, people might think you were plotting against the government together! And how can you communicate with him by yourself?”

The doctor watched curiously, waiting for a translation.

“I’ll take full responsibility for my actions,” Sano said. “Go. I’ll meet you at the gate when I’m done.”

He watched from the balcony as Ohira, Iishino, and the guards descended the stairs and walked down the street. Then, with a sense of stepping ever deeper into jeopardy, he went back inside the study, closing the door behind him. Through the window, he surveyed the yard. Two guards patrolled there, safely out of hearing range. Sano turned to Huygens. Taking Dr. Ito’s letter from beneath his sash, he handed it to Huygens, who looked puzzled, but adjusted his glasses, read silently, then smiled and nodded.

“Ito Genboku,” he said, pointing to the letter, then at Sano. “Ito Genboku!”

They’d established their mutual acquaintance with Dr. Ito, but how to proceed? Sano spoke loudly in an attempt to induce comprehension. “I need your help examining Director Spaen’s body. To see if the killer left any clues.” He gestured in vague pantomime, then shook his head. “This is hopeless!”

Without an interpreter, the doctor would never understand what he wanted; he could never learn anything from Huygens. More than ever Sano missed Dr. Ito, who not only had the requisite scientific expertise but had also learned Dutch from forbidden books.