“Yes. Minami Hideo, at your service.” The proprietor’s manner turned obsequious. “But Peony has already been questioned by Chief Ohira. She didn’t know anything, so he let her go. Isn’t that right?” He bent a menacing gaze on Peony, who nodded mutely, ducking her head and clasping her big hands.

“Is there a place where she and I can talk in private?” Sano asked.

“Certainly. But you’re wasting your time.” Shrugging, the proprietor started across the garden. Peony shuffled after him, humble and downtrodden. Then Minami halted and stared at her bosom. “What have you got in there?” Boldly he thrust his hand down the front of Peony’s kimono and pulled out a silk fan.

“That’s mine!” shrieked the bathing courtesan. “I’ve been looking all over for it.”

The other women watched avidly. The nude one sat up, not bothering to cover her breasts.

Minami slapped Peony’s face; she cowered, whimpering. “Stealing again! That’s what got you here in the first place, or have you forgotten? Well, there’s a merchant in the Arab settlement who likes to hurt women. None of the other houses will accept his business, but I’ll let him have you. That will teach you to behave.”

Grabbing Peony’s arm, he dragged her across the garden. Sano, though dismayed at this harsh treatment, didn’t intervene. Brothel owners could do as they pleased with the women, who had no legal rights. Sano followed Minami and Peony to the veranda opposite, where Minami admitted them into an unoccupied guest room, sparsley furnished with a low table and a cabinet. Sunlight filtered through a latticed window overlooking a busy side street. The proprietor shoved Peony onto the floor, closed the door, and left. Sano exhaled in relief, glad to escape the other courtesans. Their beauty had evoked in him an intense sexual longing for Aoi. Since she’d gone, he hadn’t taken another lover. Somehow the deprivation of celibacy kept her memory alive. But personal torments had no place in a murder investigation. Now he studied the witness—or suspect—who promised its possible success.

Peony lay motionless, a hand clasped to the cheek where Minami had struck her. Her hair, which had tumbled down, gleamed richly. Her silent misery filled the room like an audible wail.

“I won’t hurt you, Peony,” Sano said reassuringly. “Sit up.”

She did, scooting backward to kneel in the corner, as far out of reach as possible. Sano glimpsed a spark of cunning in her eyes, a spirit not quite crushed.

“Now tell me everything that happened the last night you spent with the barbarian,” he said.